I think I am finally ready to talk about these little things that eat my brain. I am not sure if it is depression or what, but this summer, the neuroses have gotten the better of me.

For whatever reason, it started with a pit-of the-stomache issue when I finished my last class. If you recall, the death of Tundra had made my life suckerific the last few weeks of class, and I ended up in this death spiral of OH-MY-GOD-THE-SKY-IS-FALLING! everytime I left my house. Or tried to sleep. Or both. I had a few months where I was convinced that I was not only the worst pet mother ever, but the worst teacher ever, even though quite a few of my students told me how much they had enjoyed having me and had actually done better than they had the last time they took the class when they didn’t even bother showing UP for class, let alone passing. Blink.

It really got bad when I went to the college to check my mailbox and found it missing. I went into a death spiral almost at once and spent two weeks convinced that they had fired me and no one had told me. I finally found out that they change them out each semester depending on who is working. No summer class equals no mailbox. Duh!

Then I started watching the numbers in the classes. I had one student in each section and for a solid MONTH it didn’t change. I then became convinced that I was being opted out by lowered numbers. Turns out that this is ALSO not the case, just a mix of things. I am now up to 6 and 7 respectively, but this has been an ongoing thing.

I also can’t shake this general malaise that I have about teaching this summer, and the feeling of general failure. My fall class at MCC? Oral Comm, my favorite class. My disingenuous brain, however, immediately went to “Oh my gods, they are not offering me College Comp! I must suck!” Fuck that, ya’ll. My brain needs an enema.

Hopefully, I can shake this before I self-destruct completely. I mean, I do self-sabotage myself regularly. I just wish it wasn’t that easy to do.

Advertisements