Life @ The Dahlhouse: Disappointment

*After working on this post for several weeks (reading and re-reading) this is my best account of the last three months.  

I'm not sure if there is anyone out there still reading my little blog.  It has been a good three months since I have written ANYTHING. I am anything but consistent. There has been so much happening in life, however, it has been difficult for me to write anything.  So instead of working through it by writing, I have shoved it down deep inside and have been unable to come to this place.  But now, I am making an effort to work through it, and to move forward from where I have been stuck for awhile.

So here it goes...In August, I started a brand new job.  A brand new adventure, a new chapter in life, and I was so, so excited.  Shortly after my hysterectomy, I applied for and interviewed for a kindergarten teaching position at a private school.  I was ecstatic to learn that I got the job!  I spent most of my recovery planning, pinning and ordering things for my new classroom.  I envisioned the classroom theme (rainbows), table groups (Brown Bear Brown Bear themed animals), colors, activities, circle time.  I LOVE kindergarten.  I had such a wonderful experience with my mentor teacher back in 2002 in kindergarten.  I knew the start of the school year would be crazy, due to the school campus moving locations, and I had prepared in my mind to be flexible.  What I failed to prepare myself for was all the unknowns.  The things that happened that I had no control over.  I had no idea the administration of the school was going to ask the teaching staff to move the ENTIRE school on their own.  They decided to not hire movers.  It wasn't in the budget.  For over a week, the teaching staff exhausted killed themselves moving tables, chairs, filing cabinets, desks, white boards, totes of curriculum and everything else you can think of that a school needs.  This also included the teaching staff to move the entire early childhood education center as well.  The teachers had exactly 1 day to put together and decorate our classrooms to be ready to greet our students and their families on back to school night.  I worked from 8am to 11pm putting my classroom together and it was no where near ready.  When it was finally time to meet the students, I was exhausted and run down.  My heart was racing a lot of the time from the stress I was under.  This was a scary feeling for me, and only increased my anxiety.

I started the school year with no training on curriculum (I hadn't even looked at it), a half finished classroom, and no information about my students (other than their names).  I didn't even know how to log onto the computer and take attendance...mainly because I didn't have one (a computer) in the classroom.  There was no playground for the students (although there was a big pile of dirt).  The solution was for the kids to play in the road (they blocked it off with cones and supervision).  It was utter chaos.  Right before school began, I found out my students would be eating lunch in the classroom because they were one portable short for kinder to be able to come to the cafeteria to eat.  Great.  In the next breath, I was told that I would be supervising my last recess.  Oh, and all of the specials (music, art, and technology) would be happening in the classroom.  PE would be taking place in a parking lot, except on the days it rained...those classes would be held in the classroom.  My portable classroom wasn't very big.  It barely fit all the students tables, a circle area and some room in the back for small classroom library.

I tried to make the best of it.  The students were a VERY busy, very chatty bunch of kids.  They needed room to move and play.  They had a difficult time listening.  I had 5 students that I had to make sure I had a line of sight on at all times.  I began taking data on several students and approached the administration about help.  I took data for weeks.  Help never came.

Part of my salary package was for Matthew to be able to attend the daycare on site at the same school.  I thought this was just the best idea.  I paid my registration fee and signed him up after I was hired.  School began in September, except Matthew didn't begin daycare, because the ECE hadn't received their state license yet.  They had no idea when this would happen.  Weeks went by and no license.  I understand this wasn't there fault. However, I was often put in a very difficult position trying to find someone to watch  him at the last minute and then paying out of pocket for last minute care.  Sometimes we were put in a position where we had to leave Matthew with Luke for an hour or so...this wasn't a great idea either and caused me to worry...a lot.  This wasn't the arrangement that I agreed to.  I was beyond stressed, exhausted and emotional.  I cried.all.the.time.

I think the moment I knew...that this wasn't going to work was at the curriculum night at school.  I had a father of one of my students approach me and ask about security at the new campus.  I directed him to talk to the principal or superintendent.  He then proceeded to ask me if I had a concealed carry permit.  His wife looked the other way.  I remember laughing a little thinking he was joking.  He said, "No, I am serious.  Do you have concealed carry permit to protect our child at school?"  I refused to answer that question and again directed the questions back to the principal.  I was flustered by this exchange.  Then, I had another father, who had taught in the public schools for 13 years, scowl at me during the entire curriculum presentation.  I overheard him tell his wife that he absolutely would never do things the way I was going to do them.  I went home that night and was done.  I couldn't get help from the administration, I wasn't supported, the students were out of control, and the parents weren't thrilled with me, I had no daycare for Matthew, and was taking anti-anxiety meds to make it through the day. The after school meetings were almost daily.  I felt I had been set up for failure.  I gave my resignation the next week.        

I worked for two more weeks and said good-bye to my teaching partners.

I have been processing things for the last couple of months.  I've wondered what the purpose was behind all of these weird events.  I have felt sad, and in some ways have grieved over this loss of dream.  When I found out they were building a school by our house, I was thrilled and began dreaming of teaching at the school my kids attend someday.  8 days after my hysterectomy I went for an interview.  I even had to have Mark drive me because I was restricted at that point.  I was determined to do my best.  Ultimately in the end, it did not work out.

To be honest, I have struggled with this feeling failure.  Why have I never been able to find the right fit for me as a teacher?  I have even questioned if I had missed my calling.  Did I make a mistake becoming a teacher? Should I ever teach again?  I feel let down and disappointed.  And I know that it is life, but I really wanted it to work out.  It seemed so perfect.  Perhaps too perfect.

I got extremely sick one week after I quit my job.  So sick.  I coughed and coughed and ran a fever.  In the end the doctor said it was just a virus.  I was sick for about a month.  I think my immune system was so run down from the stress of surgery and then the stress of the job.

Life has continued as life does.  I have picked myself up and have continued onward.  Honestly, I have struggled a lot with the events of the last six months.  Mark went back to work the road (traveling to Pasco and back) with BNSF, and I went back to VIPKID working early early in the mornings to pay for the girls school.  It's tough, but it is the only thing I can do with Mark's insane work schedule.  It has been difficult for me to not feel guilty about Mark working the road and all the crazy hours.  I keep thinking, "If I hadn't quit, if I had worked harder, if I had made it work, then he wouldn't have to work crazy hours." Its an ongoing internal battle that I face each day.

Mark and I had the chance to get away for two days late October.  Despite me having little voice, and coughing we had a great time.  

I've had some fun selling some earrings, and just recently launched my own website!  Dahlhouse Design.   Click the link to check it out.  Some fun accessories.  Definitely a work in progress.  But proud I am doing it.  

All in all I am happy to be home with my little people; even though I have been struggling with my skeletons that are in my closet.  I am working on making time for me, which can be really difficult amongst littles that need me.  But self care is so so important.  So here I am working through the messy difficult parts of life.  Navigating mommy hood without a manual or guide.  

Below are a few more photos of the last three months.  Life continues on and so must we.

Letter To Myself About Depression

Dear Carissa...I know you are in there somewhere.  In the mist of the crazies of life, the day-to-day kayos, errands, chores and the endless to-do lists of things that must be accomplished...I know you are there.  That twenty-something person who was so independent, creative, courageous and strong.  Yes, you know her...the one that used to rock climb, write children's books and curriculum and take risks.  The one who didn't worry so much about life.  The one that wasn't overburdened by the weight of the world.  She's there...deep down...somewhere.

I want you to know that you are much too judgmental of yourself.  Your perfectionism is draining you.  It will be your greatest undoing.  You do not demand or expect perfection of anyone else...only yourself.  Truth...no one is perfect (not even you)...so STOP!  STOP IT! REALLY!  Stop setting impossible standards for yourself.  Remember to breathe, drop your shoulders, look people in the eye...heck just look up and smile more than you do now.  Except the fact that your house is never going to look like a magazine picture, the laundry is rarely going to be finished, and the bathrooms will not always be sparkly.  It's ok.  I give you permission to let baskets of dirty clothes sit in the laundry room, to not constantly wipe up sticky finger prints that mark the mirrors, and to leave some dishes in the sink yet to be done.  Life will continue. 

I get it.  I know you feel lost right now.  The world seems so mixed up and upside down.  You feel...dare I say it..."depressed" and it is difficult to accurately describe what it is that you are even depressed about.  And I know you...so I know that you feel ashamed that you are depressed.  Because you are supposed to be "perfect", and not have problems and look like you got it all together.  But the truth is you don't.  You feel that depression is a sign of weakness, or ungratefulness, or lack of faith.  It's taboo.  Talking about the "d" word with others is tough.  It's not a comfortable topic.  You wish they would hear you.  Really "hear" you.  You look around and feel trapped.  Wall surround you.  There are no easy answers or solutions or quick fixes.  You see the destination of where you want to go, but doubt if you will ever end up there. 

Sometimes you don't feel anything at all.  You stuff your emotions away deep inside.  If things are going badly, you are reminded to be thankful that you don't have it worse because others do.  And while you concur and recognize that fact, you feel invalidated that you aren't allowed to have any type of emotion because you are "blessed."  And I understand that your heart aches.  I see the frustration you feel.  I would just encourage you to "don't stop feeling."  Even if the feelings are sadness and hurt and dare I say the "d" word.  Because Carissa they are real.  What you feel is real, and valid and true.  You are the only one that can live your life...so have the courage to really live!  And part of life my dear is all the crazy emotions that go along with it.  And...I'll let you in on a little secret...those emotions don't make you weak or broken...they just make you human!

The voices you hear (and yes everyone has internal voices and dialog that bounce around in their brains)...the chatter around you...it's loud and distracting.  The voices that say you aren't good enough, you are a failure, you are nothing...they are never going to go away.  But...you have the power to STOP them.  To shut them up.  To be in control.  You have in in you to make choices for you!  And not choices to please anyone else.  Let the voices fade into the background.  Let them go!  Have the courage to follow you heart and your gut and anything else that is telling you something.  Listen to those feelings, because they are almost always right.  The decisions in your life that really matter...the ones that will be forever linked with you...you went against the crowd, and against what was popular and easy and YOU WERE RIGHT!  Because you trusted you.  You had faith.  You had courage to take a stand even if you stood by yourself.  And guess what? You have that same faith, and that same courage in you now!

Carissa...as Grandy would say "this too shall pass".  So today if you feel depressed, or tired, or weak, or sad...acknowledge the feeling, it's ok.  Your feelings do not define who you are.  You define who you are.  You won't feel this way forever.  You are processing and working it through.  Trust yourself.  Think outside the box, dare to live, laugh out loud, embrace you children,  love your husband.  You've wasted far too much time already worried about what others think.  You are able to think for yourself, and have confidence that you are capable and able to make the best decisions for you.  Love yourself a little or a whole lot because you are worthy of being loved.

Oh...and one more thing...raising kids is tough.  Raising typical developing kids is tough enough, but raising special needs kids is a whole other ball game.  Cut yourself some slack.  You do a very, very good job with your kids.  Remember...you can't ever be the "perfect" mother, it's not possible, so accept it and move on. You don't have a "manual" on how to do this and unfortunately you don't really have very many example of adoptive mom's raising special needs kids.  So you do the very best you can.  Accept the fact that sometime you are going to screw up, and keep walking forward.  Trust the process.  Love more, let more things go.   Remember... the days are long , but the years are short, and you will NEVER, NEVER, EVER get MORE TIME.  You have your allotment of time and that's it.  Make good use of it.  Slow down and watch, look and listen. There is wisdom in the depths of your children.  There is magic in childhood.  There will come a day he won't ask you to play cards anymore, you will be the one asking.  There will come a day where she won't stick play-doh in little glass flower vases, and then the day will come where there won't be any play doh at all.   There will come a day where there will not be any pretend dance shows...so remember that fact when you think about saying "not right now."  Instead say "YES".  You won't ever regret saying "YES".  Yes to them, yes to him, yes to life.

*I wrote this letter to myself as part of my assignment in therapy.  I've been in weekly therapy for several months to learn how to recognize and respond to anxiety and depression.  This one was difficult for me to share as there is a vulnerability to it.  But I really wanted to address that depression is real, should be talked about more and can happen to anyone.