Toast

So far, after every day teaching, I have felt happy and postive, and good. Like I’m in a different world.

Then, when it’s over, I remember who I am, and everything starts to fade. I feel dread, and panic, and I don’t know how I’m going to handle food. How I’m going to get through the night and face the next day.

I wonder if I should teach more. But I know if I teach too much, I will inevitably take on more responsibility (it would be required) and I would feel overwhelmed.

But I am SO lucky. To be at a little country school. ..

I have met all the kids now (only 3 classes in the whole school) and I am so priviledged to be able to teach art and music, and to only have 17 kids in each class.

Today I came home and ate a handful of crackers, and a piece of toast (with cheese ). This is the first time in weeks I have eaten toast, or anything other than apple, chicken broth, rice cakes, and (some chocolate).

I got this surge of energy that felt so foreign and scary. It’s still here of course. Eating fucking food gives you energy for hours. I can still feel the glucose in my veins. I’m not kidding.

This week I teach Monday, Wednesday (today) and Thursday. Next week I teach Monday and Wednesday.

The kids all like me and ask for me everyday. But everything’s a novelty in the beginning. I still do think I’m a pretty cool teacher. And that’s the reason why. Time will tell.

I realised yesterday I have to work out how to do assessment for my art classes. It’s no real problem. Just another endeavour to design.

I am thinking I can’t eat tomorrow to make up for the toast and crackers this afternoon. I am wondering if I won’t be able to sleep because I’m crying due to guilt.

Maybe tomorrow and teaching will save me.

I had to see a social welfare psychologist yesterday. She was young. And nice. And I told her almost everything. She agreed I am not likely to be fit to work more than one or 2 days a week. I thought I was okay, but when I started talking to her I was overcome with fear of eating and broke down crying that I couldn’t eat because if I did, then I’d have to start punishing myself again, and doing obsessive exercise, and I really didn’t want to start doing that again. So I didn’t, and couldn’t eat.

And now I’ve eaten toast.

I’m gluttonous.

I’m scared.

I’m confused.

But I’m excited about my new school, and the children.

-Elizabeth