I wan’t to run. I wan’t to turn my back on England and all the mysery it has brought me and run!!!! Our landlord is forcing us to move out and yesterday I reciveved a message completely out of the blue, from an old friend who has informed me that his institution back in Ireland are recruiting lecturers. Last week I spoke with my CPN about giving up on everything here and running, and now I’m seeing “signs” that maybe its time to do just that.
Is it crazy to make such decisions now, when I’m so medicated, irrational, depressed and scared. Ireland has a different pace of life, I have family there, support there. I am more comfortable with its schooling system and ways. Would moving home help fix me??? This job is still a 4 hour drive from “home” but at least its the same flipping island. They could visit us, and we could visit them much more easily. Little man could get to know his cousins.
What would OH do? Should we live apart for a while? Would it just bring me the same mysery but in a different city. Should I just face the fact that life is not for me and end it?
I’ve spent today updating my CV.
I really don’t know what to do!!!! I’m sure I won’t secure the job anyway, but its forcing me to think and its stressing me out…………………………
It had been building up. Nausea and shakyness took control tonight. It was not a planned purge, but instead an unavoidable, quick run to the bathroom vomit. A couple more followed in the same manner before bed..
Right now I’m in bed, having scoffed some zopi I feel less shaky, but blimey I’m wide awake.
There’s too much stuff circuling my head. Too much to type out.
Will things work out someday?
My new CPN is great, honestly caring, fairly responsive and honest (Her face gives her away)
But she’s not L. L is the one person I felt at ease with most. She never judged, she was just amazingly kind and supportive in a nurturing way. She held hope for me when I could not. She’d help me find the positives, when I just couldn’t see them. And I wanted to engage, and do things well for her a little as much as me. She tried so much with me.
Now though, it’s all fucked. L has gone and I miss her sometimes intolarbly so.
Now we don’t seem to have a plan. I’ve been dumped from psychotherapy. And now my psychiatrist is leaving.
I just need L. No one comes close. But in typing I can hear say “come on what are you going to to ground yoursslf” what at you going to do that’s nice for you? She has the perfect tone and warmness in her manner. Some weeks on now and I’m not coping, and she the only person I’d give anything to see again
This system off meds are not working, pychology has dumped me and I’m feeling even more isolated and alone.
I’ve just swallowed several. Zopoclone
I’m a bit shaky but should be ok
I can no longer cope. I’m reduced to tears at the slightest thing. My anxiety is intolerable and today we’ve been dealt another blow. Our landlord is selling our house. A house on a prime location, on a friendly street, a stone’s throw from the beach and little man’s nursery. I’m more than devastated. I’ve gone ten rounds with life, and it’s left me battered, bruised and done!!
Today in sheer desperation, before our house news, I reached out for help. I did what I am always told to do. I rang my CPN. She was unavailable but the voice on the line promised me someone, either C, or the “duty” would call me back.
No one did……………
Oh my word, i cannot believe this is post number 250. I wonder will I ever make it to old age, will I look back on this someday, and recognise my struggles as a battle I have won, or will it just be some other lost blog in the vastness of the web. Thank you to those of you following, and to those who occasionally hit like. I’ve said it before but your support makes me feel just a little less alone in this world.
So today was one of those day’s that I’d like to forget. I was teaching all day, a science practical on the separation of proteins using Chromatography (a method that enables you to separate out and collect individual proteins from a complex protein mixture) The morning session ran o.k, however the tech staff messed up the storage requirments of our reagents and thus the afternoon session was a car crash!!. Nothing worked as it should, I had to make up fake results on the fly, reassure increasinlgy frustrated students that they had done nothing wrong, try to hide my own anger and remain positve, and somehow drag us all through the torment and failings of the afternoon. It was indeed a true reflection of science, in the quest for knowledge methods often fail, but for first years it was a little too strenuous, and I could see their body language change, their despair grow, and their enthuasisam dissappear. It was a hard day for all off us.
I needed things to work, I needed students to be content, I needed to take it easy today. I’m physically not right, and my CPN’s insistence that it is anxiety is not sitting right with me. I’ve had anxiety before but it would come in waves. The shakiness, the nausea and the head fog that I am now experiencing is constant. I’m barely functioning and if it is anxiety, then its hit a whole new level, that long term I simply cannot cope with.
I ended the day in floods of tears, with a colleague. He was incredibly kind, and supportive, but now I am ashamed, feel a little more vulnerable and wish I’d kept my tears to myself. My meds are not working, and I’m too “distressed” for therapy. My mood is destroying me, my lack of concentration is destoying my career and I’m struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
If we’re all being totally honest, degree classifications are probably as much a case of luck, as they are hard work. Marking is afterall in many cases very subjective. What i think are sailiant points may differ from my colleagues. My tastes and ideas also differ which is partly why research is able to fourish, the arts are able to entertain and why some comedians that I think are awful, continure to draw large crouds.
I wonder has anyone studied the affect of a markers mood on grade profiles. When your in the pits of despair personally, and blue skies continue to look grey, it is hard to believe that you could possibly fully appreciate the positives in a piece of work, actively searching to award marks, rather than searching for reasons to deduct them.
i suspect my grade awards differ somewhere in the region of 5-8 % based solely on the mood I’m in. Indeed I’ve chatted with colleagues, and I am not alone. Sure we use rubrics, set fairly clear expectations and recruit moderators to check for discrepencies, but what if they’re also in a bad mood. Bad moods are common place amongst academics. Pressures from above to be more available to students, do more research, teach like a boss, mark in ridicuoulsly short timeframes, stay abreast of current innovations, answer hundreds of emails, do everything we can to keep students happy, bring grades up, no bring grades down and do it all with a smile and enthuasiasm under a mountain of admin.
We are not alone, I know.
I have work to do. Quite a bit infact and given my recent slow pace, I need to crack on. Try saying that to a two year old!!. He bashed on my labptop keys, grabbed and clawed at my hands, demanded an endless supply of food and drinks and attention and quite frankly made marking assignmnets nion impossible. OH works many weekends and we have no one else to turn to for support on days like this.
Working under these conditions had the sensation of hearing nails on a chalkborad!!. I can’t be all things to all people and its stressing me out. Today I was crap at everything. Extremely inefficient at marking, irritable as heck (my feedback might be a little harsh!) and neglectful as a mother.
On top of that, my mood has been nothing short of erratic. I swung quite violently from alsmost resigning from my job, to suicidal, to hopeful, back to suicidal and so the day went. I’ve eaten far too many carbs in an attempt to find comfort and I’ve burned (Again!)
Last night, i did find sleep on my new regimen but it was broken, and I spent alot of time looking at my watch. I eat more when I’m tired. Tonight I want to knock myself out, but i won’t.
Tomorrow I face another day of nails on a chalkboard.