you are my sweetest downfall,
i loved you first
you are my sweetest downfall,
i loved you first
remembering when the anxiety got bad enough that I felt the only thing I could do was dig into my skin and get the anxiety out that way. that didn’t work, what else was there to try?
on nights like tonight I somehow revert back to that feeling while also feeling so incredibly ashamed of myself for even being that person in the first place.
so badly I want someone to tell me I’m okay.
Being home for reading week.. wait a minute. Being in Scarborough for reading week (because Brantford is kinda home for me now…) has really got me thinking about a lot of things. This hasn’t necessarily been the best reading week ever because
but I’ve also been feeling this sense of loneliness and nostalgia combined. It’s a weird feeling, let me tell you. I went for a walk the other night to Tim Horton’s and then to my old elementary school where I just sat on the swings, listening to music, thinking about what it would be like if I had someone to talk with. Then, I went for a walk during the day down my street – the street I grew up on with my elementary school on it. So many memories just started flooding back and they are stupid things I wish I had someone to share with. How nice would it be to bring someone who has never set foot in your neighbourhood down a random street and just tell them all these stories? Like, that house right there is where my friend Jeff used to live and we walked past it every day on the way to and from daycare and that’s super exciting for an 8 year old. That house used to let us run through and drink from their hose when we ran the Terry Fox run. One time we weren’t allowed to go on the east side of the field because there was someone in the gully shooting birds (is that only a Scarborough problem??).
The other thing is that I would love to be on the receiving end of that. I would love for someone to take me to their neighbourhood, walk me down their random street, and share these silly memories. I want to hear about stories from your childhood. I want to hear about the things you believe in and the things that scare you. I want to hear about your goals for the future.
Where’s my intimate moment like that?
I took this picture in October of 2014 when I visited my then-boyfriend in NYC, where he was completing his co-op placement. When I think of the theme “frame,” I think of changing your perspective a little bit and seeing things from a different angle. Framing your view with anything that you’re able to. I don’t know if that’s supposed to be meaningful or not, because I know that I already did a piece on changing perspectives, but I think it’s always an important lesson to continue to learn.
The photo is of some buildings seen from Central Park, framed by the leaves of the trees around me. I thought it was amazing how I could combine the nature and calmness of the park with the business and structure of the city. Both beautiful in their own way.
This trip to NYC was something that was difficult to do at times. I took a very long bus ride – by myself – to an unfamiliar place. I spent time alone in a huge city. Now, anyone who knows me knows how much of an accomplishment it was for me to get on the New York subway by myself and find my way to Central Park. I walked through the park for a little until I was too hot and too anxious to stay, and made my way back to the hotel with a Starbucks iced tea.
But while I was walking through this huge park in this huge city feeling tiny, I was looking for photo opportunities. I wanted to find something spectacular. Looking back now, it was the entire experience that was spectacular. It was me, having a good time on my own, pushing my own boundaries and looking for new things on my own. I barely managed to get any good photos, which is okay. Reflecting on who I was two years ago (wow, that was two years ago) and comparing that person to who I am now, I can see that I’m always growing. Wow, what a realization…/sarcasm/. But honestly, I don’t even know if I’d be comfortable going out on my own like that today. I’m working on it, that’s for sure.
I wish I had some inspiration so I could write meaningful passages and artistic poems. Alas, here I am staring at my computer screen wishing instead of doing, thinking instead of starting, and coming up with absolutely nothing.
If there was a pond with water that gave me inspiration and motivation when I poured the water on my head, I still would have nothing because I wouldn’t have the motivation to get my ass over there.
Through the eyes of a teacher, I’m always looking in the world for teachable moments – moments I can use in a classroom to get a message across. When something happens with my students I think about how to turn it into a lesson. When something goes on in the world I think about how to turn it into something I can teach the students about.
But I think it’s important to look at the world from the perspective of a learner as well. What can the world teach me? What can I learn from my students (instead of the other way around)?
I’ve written many times in assignments and philosophies of education that I’m a “life-long learner” and one of my goals as a teacher is to inspire my students to want to be life-long learners as well. Now, I want to look closer at the world and see what it actually has to teach me. Because right now, it seems like the world is trying to teach me that everything is scary and things are too hard – when I know logically that doesn’t have to be the case.
Please, world, teach me something valuable. And let me receive it well.
This past week’s photo challenge was called “fun!” which I thought could be quite fun to do. The problem is when things don’t seem as fun as they used to, or you’re too stressed to really be looking for the fun moments in every day life.
I wrote a page in my little notebook of ideas that I might do for this topic, but really none of them ended up happening because I was too focused on other things – how anxious I was feeling in a particular moment, the nausea I’ve been experiencing the past couple of days, the things I need to get done, or wanting to make other people feel better.
I asked my parents to visit me last weekend. I don’t have any money right now and I asked them to come buy me groceries. But not only that, I was lonely. I wanted to see my family. I wanted to go on a walk with them, eat at a restaurant, spend some time with people that I don’t get to see nearly as often as I would like. We walked in Hamilton by the water and it wasn’t necessarily anything that special but it was really, really nice. When we got to the end of the walk (before turning around and walking back to the car), we stopped to just take it all in. It had been so incredibly humid and everything felt sticky and gross. We took a picture of us by the water for my dad to use for his Geocaching log. Then I goofed off.
Sometimes it’s hard to find the fun in every day. I want to try harder though, because this picture is just so silly and I love it. I need to realize that I don’t need to take every moment so seriously. Sometimes the best moments are the fun, silly ones – spending time with your family and making faces under a tree.
Make silly faces at yourself, take pictures from unflattering angles, don’t care about your appearance, spend time with people who love you, eat yummy foods, HAVE FUN.
On the surface nothing looks wrong. Sure, there are bags under my eyes and my resting face isn’t joyful. But who doesn’t look like that? On the surface everything seems fine.
On the surface, everyone looks fine. But when you get past the surface…
She is so worried about everything. To the point of tears all the time and shaking because nothing seems to be going right. She’s tired and sad, and tired of being worried, and sad that she’s so worried. She’s freaking out about something simple. She’s hoping that somebody will answer all her questions without knowing that she has them because she can’t ask. She does everything she can to avoid making any phone calls. She carries things with her to ease her anxiety (elastic bands, smooth rocks, a journal to write things down in).
But she’s not the only one, probably. It’s just that nobody notices because on the surface, everything looks normal. On the surface, it doesn’t look like anybody is going through anything. When in reality, everyone is struggling – they just pretend they aren’t.