Why am I stressed? Things are going so well so now I am quite worried that the floor will drop out and I will be devastated again. Isn't that sick? I even know it is sick and now my thoughts stress me out too! But I do know it is irrational and that is a good sign.
So things I am stressed about:
1. Therapy
2. Flat tire
3. Money
4. Applying for schools
5. GRE
6. Raising a teenager
7. Blackjack interacting with Alex
8. Being tired all the time
9. My weight
10. Answering the question what do you do all day? With the undertone of-you should be working or doing something-I immediately start feeling guilty.
11. Not having a plan. I feel like I should have a plan.
A list of 11 is pretty good! It is usually 200 or so...
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Teaching
I am not going back to teaching full-time in the fall. I might sub and I might go back eventually but I just don't have any desire to teach at this point. When I was in college the first time, I was totally paralyzed about my future. I was interested in English, History and Religion. I did not, though, want to be a teacher, a lawyer or a minister. Where did that leave me?
When I went back to school, I was a widow with two children to support. I did what I felt was the grown-up thing to do and got a teaching degree in English and History and hoped I would enjoy it. I had always planned to teach for five years then go back to school for history. I have discovered, though, that I just can't do it. I still struggle with the fact that I might not be doing what is right for the kids but I think seeing me further my education and explore my career options will be good for them. Also, frankly, I have thirty-five more years of working and ten more years of them in the house. My wants and desires matters at some point. And this is my point.
I liked teaching but I don't think I was particularly good at high school, full-time teaching. I am not organized enough, not strict enough and not focused enough. I struggled with the pressure of the fitting everything in an semester and struggled with trying to do a great job because the kids deserve it. So, I might return again for it or I might not. Who knows?
I have already gotten strange looks when I say I don't know what I will do with a history graduate degree with an emphasis in Religion. I always have the teaching degree to fall back on and I just kinda think I don't need to know. I just need to do. I have always lived with a goal in mind and a planned future. I am done with that. It just creates more pressure. So, I am just going for the quest of knowledge and because I love history.
The future scares the hell out of me. But I have hope and I have loose plans. It will be fine.
When I went back to school, I was a widow with two children to support. I did what I felt was the grown-up thing to do and got a teaching degree in English and History and hoped I would enjoy it. I had always planned to teach for five years then go back to school for history. I have discovered, though, that I just can't do it. I still struggle with the fact that I might not be doing what is right for the kids but I think seeing me further my education and explore my career options will be good for them. Also, frankly, I have thirty-five more years of working and ten more years of them in the house. My wants and desires matters at some point. And this is my point.
I liked teaching but I don't think I was particularly good at high school, full-time teaching. I am not organized enough, not strict enough and not focused enough. I struggled with the pressure of the fitting everything in an semester and struggled with trying to do a great job because the kids deserve it. So, I might return again for it or I might not. Who knows?
I have already gotten strange looks when I say I don't know what I will do with a history graduate degree with an emphasis in Religion. I always have the teaching degree to fall back on and I just kinda think I don't need to know. I just need to do. I have always lived with a goal in mind and a planned future. I am done with that. It just creates more pressure. So, I am just going for the quest of knowledge and because I love history.
The future scares the hell out of me. But I have hope and I have loose plans. It will be fine.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
How much is that doggy in the window?
Rick expressed a childhood desire to own a puppy that he has never fulfilled. Instead of listening like a wise girlfriend, nodding and letting it go, I took his desire and ran with it. As usual, my impulsive behavior had ramifications and ripples that I did not even consider. His desire for a puppy meant he was opening his heart, he was ready to commit to something and he might even, one day, commit to me. In other words, it became less about the dog and became All About Me.
I called around and found a bassett hound puppy. I told him and Rick agreed to look at it. The puppy, named Amos, was absolutely adorable.
I was determined not to get attached. I mean, Rick was not going through with it. He would find an excuse to not to purchase it. Rick looked at Amos-Amos looked at him and it was love at first sight. I started to feel hope. Then, I picked Amos up. He laid his head on my shoulder and his big ole ears flew out and I fell in love. I immediately had images of putting UT sweaters on him and walking him and stroking his ears. I pictured BlackJack bullying him and Amos sitting on him. Rick said he would come back on Sunday. I felt good. Really good. He even discussed names in the car. He worried if Amos was retarded. All good signs.
Then, Saturday, he said he forgot to even consider getting a dog. Uh-oh. Sunday, he decided Amos was too big (and look at him-he is a chunk and a half) and it would not work. I called the breeder then cried for an hour. I felt like, by rejecting Amos, he was rejecting me. He couldn't even love a dog. How could he love me? Ever commit to me fully?
Rick agreed to keep looking. Next, we looked at Corgis. Same pattern. I was shocked I liked the Corgis better than Bassett Hounds but I did. I picked up a puppy and thought it was sweet. I didn't like it as much as Amos but the Corgi pup was far more practical. It was also more lively and better looking. I imagined Blackjack and Corgi herding each other and playing with each other. I imagined the puppy at Rick's feet and walking with him.
Rick thought about it for forty-eight hours then rejected it.
I am disappointed. I am sad. It has become bigger than owning a puppy and I am trying to keep it in perspective. I just keep thinking, "if he can't commit to a dog-a dog he obviously wants-how will he ever commit to me?" But, it is not fair to pressure him in such a way.
Also, my dogs bring such joy in my life. I adore Blackjack. When I am at my blackest, just playing with him helps my soul. Walking him has helped bring me back into the world and being with him gives me something to focus on besides myself. There is just something special about a connection between a dog and a human and I want Rick to experience that type of love, loyalty and joy. I want him to experience the happiness a dog feels when his owner comes home, the delight in watching your dog play in the snow or bark at a leaf, the proud feeling when your dog sits for the first time at command. I just want a dog to help him with some of his wounds and help him begin healing like Blackjack does for me.
Notice all the "I wants..." I am so narcassitic at the core. I need to care about Rick wants.
So I am stepping back. I am going to quit pressuring, quit nagging, quit trying to force him into a decision. If Rick wants a puppy, he will get it. He doesn't need my help. He can find a breeder, he can do research, he can pick it up. I just can't any more. Everytime I see him with a puppy, I see the child that wanted a puppy and could never have one and my heart just breaks. It is up to Rick to decide how to reconcile that child with the adult. Not me. I can't fix it. And I should quit trying.
I called around and found a bassett hound puppy. I told him and Rick agreed to look at it. The puppy, named Amos, was absolutely adorable.
Then, Saturday, he said he forgot to even consider getting a dog. Uh-oh. Sunday, he decided Amos was too big (and look at him-he is a chunk and a half) and it would not work. I called the breeder then cried for an hour. I felt like, by rejecting Amos, he was rejecting me. He couldn't even love a dog. How could he love me? Ever commit to me fully?
Rick thought about it for forty-eight hours then rejected it.
I am disappointed. I am sad. It has become bigger than owning a puppy and I am trying to keep it in perspective. I just keep thinking, "if he can't commit to a dog-a dog he obviously wants-how will he ever commit to me?" But, it is not fair to pressure him in such a way.
Also, my dogs bring such joy in my life. I adore Blackjack. When I am at my blackest, just playing with him helps my soul. Walking him has helped bring me back into the world and being with him gives me something to focus on besides myself. There is just something special about a connection between a dog and a human and I want Rick to experience that type of love, loyalty and joy. I want him to experience the happiness a dog feels when his owner comes home, the delight in watching your dog play in the snow or bark at a leaf, the proud feeling when your dog sits for the first time at command. I just want a dog to help him with some of his wounds and help him begin healing like Blackjack does for me.
Notice all the "I wants..." I am so narcassitic at the core. I need to care about Rick wants.
So I am stepping back. I am going to quit pressuring, quit nagging, quit trying to force him into a decision. If Rick wants a puppy, he will get it. He doesn't need my help. He can find a breeder, he can do research, he can pick it up. I just can't any more. Everytime I see him with a puppy, I see the child that wanted a puppy and could never have one and my heart just breaks. It is up to Rick to decide how to reconcile that child with the adult. Not me. I can't fix it. And I should quit trying.
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