Sunday, March 24, 2024

Four More Days... Trying to Hang On Tight

 Last week we had to evacuate the room again and I had to teach in my doorway- supervising one student who was screaming and having a crisis while I taught the rest of the class who was lined up along the walls once again trying their best to learn the new phonics rule of the week.  This after I had tried all my calming, reassuring, supporting, choosing my battles..... all the tools I have plus all the things I've been told to do with this particular child by his mental health professional. 

We then just tried to ignore the crying classmate laying amongst us whining and being a distraction and throwing a tantrum because he didn't want to spell the words we were working on.  When we ignored the smaller outbursts, then he began to scream and cry and throw an all-out tantrum, but the children are so used to it we just kept on rolling.  When a classmate tried to help him and comfort him and get him back on track, he reached out and slapped the child and the screaming escalated to the point he was scaring some of the children.  So we cleared the room.  My children are so used to this, they know what supplies and materials to take with them depending on the time of day and the lesson we are working on.   This shouldn't be the norm; this shouldn't be okay. 

I was kicked and hit several times last week.  I'm so over this. 😒

I now have to do the "perp walk" with a child to make sure a student doesn't expose himself, inappropriately touch another child or do anything indecent in a sexual kind of way to any other child.  To protect the other children from this particular child, but also to protect this child from himself.  Again, this isn't okay.  I teach first grade.  I feel like a flippin' warden.  This really hurts my heart in a way I cannot express.   

And CPS won't investigate.  When I called to appeal, they told me I didn't give them enough "proof."  Said I can "ask questions and gather proof and call them back, but without evidence they won't investigate."  I felt so dumb because I don't understand.  Isn't that the point of an investigation is to gather the proof or find that there is no proof?  Isn't that THEIR job?  I even tried to explain what our state-mandated training tells us to do and what it tells us we cannot do (ask probing questions).  I asked them "what kinds of questions can I ask?"  Their response?  "Ma'am I can't tell you that."  I was so angry I wanted to scream.  I was polite, but when I hung up I was in tears and shaking.  SO VERY ANGRY.  And this child is being kicked out of counseling because his parents keep no-showing for the appointments so he's left with no help, no support.  I feel so alone in this battle to try to help this child.

Spring break is in four days.  Four. More. Days.  But it feels like an eternity.  Rob told someone last week that this job is killing his wife.  That really hurt to hear that he felt this way.  I pray to God it isn't true.  But it probably is.  I am having nightmares multiple times a night about school and really struggling to sleep.  Please God help me to make it.  And please God don't let this job kill me.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Our Education System is Broken

 Last year I had a student with severe behavior problems.  I tried so hard to help the child, used all the interventions I could think of and did all the things I was told to do to help the child.  Documented everything, communicated with the family, jumped through all the hoops. 

I was told I needed to use color coded "clickers" for two different behaviors and click every time either of the behaviors happened.  If I had to "click the clicker" for either behavior I had to stop teaching and immediately fill out an elaborate documentation sheet with the antecedent, the specific behavior, what was the child doing, what was I doing, how did I respond, what did I do after the behavior, how did the child react, what type of misbehavior it was, etc., etc., etc.....  I had to do this for both types of behaviors on two different forms.    Plus I had to keep two different tally sheets with how many clicks I made for each type of behavior every 15 minutes, then reset the clicker and start over.   All that while teaching and managing all the other children and their issues and needs and interventions.  It was untenable and insane, and I had no support.  This was in addition to all the other things I was already doing for the child as well- just "one more layer of support" I was supposed to add onto all the other things.  But it didn't support him- it was just more paperwork and documentation and for what?  Nothing came of it.  It didn't get him any help.  It didn't get me any support to help this child.  I never understood what it was all for.  And do you know who had to buy the clickers and clipboards for all this mess?  Not the school, nope.  Me, they expected me to do it.  So stupid me trotted off to the sporting goods store and bought two clickers and found two lanyards to put them on- one blue one because "blue is for bruises" as my husband said, and black for disrupting the class/lessons/instructional time.  It all was total insanity.

Last year I was punched in the head so hard I had a headache, and all that happened was that I was asked if I needed a Tylenol, and the child had a ten-minute timeout in a neighboring classroom before returning to my room.  

Last year a child sat in my class pointing his fingers like a pretend gun (holding his pretend gun with his other hand like you'd see on a police show and cocking the "gun" back making clicking sounds) and pointing his "gun" at different children and at me saying "head shot," over and over as he pointed to each of us.  When I let administration know this, they said they'd speak to his parent.  After school, admin told me that they spoke to the child's parent and told her that "Mrs. Thomas is sensitive to these things.  I understand (emphasis on I) that he was just pretending and acting out something he saw in a video game, but some (emphasis on some) people get offended easily by these things."  I couldn't believe she told me that she said these things to the mom.    Duh, of course he was reenacting something he saw in a game or video, and duh, of course I didn't think he was actually going to shoot us with his finger.  I'm not that dumb, but in light of the first grader that brought a gun to school last year and shot his teacher and in light of all the other issues this child was having shouldn't we be getting this child some mental health support so he doesn't become another statistic?  I wasn't actually saying I thought he was going to shoot us, but I was saying I was deeply concerned about a child that was already violent who thought it would be appropriate or funny to sit there and pretend that.  Maybe we could try to, I don't know, offer him some counseling????

Last year I had a first grader try to shove his penis in a girl's mouth and grope a girl's crotch.  FIRST GRADE.

After all of this I was made to feel like it was all my fault and I was a failure as a teacher.  The kid never got any counseling or support or help.


Now I am, once again, in a similar situation, and I am so frustrated.  I am over here waving flags like I can't even say.  I want the child with the behavior concerns to get help so we can change the path this child is heading down and make a new trajectory for him/her.  What does it take before we can get help for a child with severe behavior problems?  How much damage does a child have to do before he/she gets help?  How many other children have to lose instructional time?  Get hurt?  Get damaged by behaviors that may affect them for life? Why do I have to work this hard to get try to get people to see what is going on and still get nothing?  I just don't understand why we can't get help for children who need it most.  And I am so very, very tired of being the teacher who has to walk this road. Of feeling like I am killing myself for absolutely nothing (I think I might literally be doing this). Of waving the flag and caring when no one else seems to.  What is the point?  

Monday, March 11, 2024

Daylight Savings You Suck!

 Oh, how I hate the time changes.  Why can't we just pick a time and stick with it?  Today was the SLOWEST day ever in my life as a teacher.  SOOOOOO slooooooooooow.  I thought it would never end.  

I introduced the children to Hugo Cabret today. 😁  They were excited to start reading that with me!  And the leprechaun is up to lots of tricks.  I usually really enjoy that.  Today I started questioning my sanity a bit, but the kids are SOOOO into it, and it is really cute how much they believe it! 😂

And then my counselor cancelled today's session.  I was almost in tears. I am going to bed now.  Hopefully tomorrow will see me more rested and in a better frame of mind.

Friday, March 08, 2024

Some Days are Just HARD

 Girl drama has hit my room big time.  Mean girl drama.  Ugh!!!! 😒  I hate mean girl drama.   They are really struggling with not holding grudges over hurt feelings from days past and not being able to share friends and play in groups of three or four.  I try really hard but have very little patience for this type of behavior.  Just be nice!!!

And having to call CPS to file a child abuse report is just awful.  I know how it feels to have someone make that kind of accusation, and I hate having to call and say that I have those kinds of concerns about someone.  But I also know that I can't not report concerns either.  Please God let my kid be okay is all I can say at this point. 

I am so tired, so utterly tired and my heart is just worn out.

Tuesday, February 20, 2024

Riding My Broom

 I used to be a nice teacher.  Now I just feel like a witch riding a broom to school every day.  Or a bitch.  Yeah, honestly, that's the one I feel most.  I really didn't wake up with the intention of going to school and being an old cranky teacher (that's actually fear I have honestly), and I don't actually think I am, but it gets so stinkin' old having to correct behaviors and pause teaching to wait for children to get back on track or provide the logical consequence or write children up and notify their parents......  I just want to teach.  That's all I really woke up wanting to do.  :(  Why can't it just be that easy?

I had a meeting today.  This new school I moved to this year calls it the CAT team (I don't actually know what CAT stands for, but it's the MTSS team meeting where we discuss students of concern and I share the data I have collected for progress monitoring and interventions I am providing, etc.).  Towards the end of the meeting, after we've discussed a bazillion things and SEVERAL of my children, my administrator says (without even looking up at me), "You have quite a number of characters in your classroom.  Your hands are full."  Hmmmmm.....  You think?!?!?  And you're the one who gave them to me, is what I was thinking but didn't say. 

And "characters"- that's putting it politely.  You mean I have one extremely violent child, two students already identified with autism (one profoundly so) and one we all suspect is also autistic (as even the principal said today), three students already identified with ADHD and six or seven that are not yet officially identified or whose parents haven't told me- they "take medicine," four children who have or still do self-harm (three learned it this year from the violent child), one child with extreme emotional problems who is literally "scared" of everything - the sun, flies, bees (or anything she thinks might be a bee including an ant crawling on the ground), the fire alarm, my whistle, or even the jingle of my keys- to a debilitating point that prevents me from being able to teach many days....  I have the class that looks like it's got ants in the pants to put it mildly.  They honest to God can't help it.  I know it;  I am trying SO HARD to be patient and understanding and kind and all the things they need me to be.  They can't get through a single lesson, no matter how short, without screaming out, interrupting, blurting and talking over each other or me.  Yeah, "characters."  That's what they are.

But there was something positive in the day that I should note.  One child who has been SOOOOOO resistant to all my efforts to get her to do more, even though she's more than capable, gave me a true level 4 piece of writing today!  She and I have been having some good talks about the "smart kids" as she calls them, and working through her fear of not looking smart to one particular classmate, and I think maybe she's listening to me more than I knew.  She's been coming to me for help, letting me work with her, taking my suggestions for how to improve assignments, and then today on her own she just slammed a science writing task- making a rock riddle about sedimentary rocks- out of the park!  I was so tickled with her work; she really made me proud!  I made a BIG HUGE deal to the class, messaged her mom, the works!  Thanks kiddo- I needed something to hold on to so I can make it one more day.

Sunday, February 18, 2024

No One Can Believe Me

 I have decided to start journaling and recording the events of some of my days at school as a way to possibly 1- process the stress or trauma of the day and 2- record the daily events that go on in an elementary school.  Over the years when I have shared things with some, it has felt as though they thought I was exaggerating, and it always felt like they were "humoring" me as if I was a child who was just blowing things out of proportion once again.  

I understand that to anyone who has not been in a classroom in decades and doesn't know anyone who has been in the classroom in recent years it might be difficult to believe some of the stories you hear; they seem preposterous at times. Some of the stories you hear can't possibly be really happening in American classrooms.  Can't be occurring in suburban or small town communities. Can't be experienced by our youngest students or the teachers of the youngest.  But they are.  And the fact that they are should be a wake up call to someone, anyone, everyone.  Our schools are struggling. Our children are struggling. Our teachers are struggling.  And no one is helping.

I have always been a staunch supporter of public schools.  I knew when I was four years old that I wanted to be a teacher.  It was a calling for me; something I felt deeply within my soul I was meant to do. I had a teacher who made a difference in my life, and I wanted to emulate that for other children.  Now, I question that I am able to make a difference in anything at all most days.  And that thought saddens me more than I can possibly express.  I wonder if my life's work (soon to be 30 years in the classroom) has been worth it at all.  What good am I even doing now each day?  I feel like I am just putting out fires every day and slapping Band-Aids on mental health crises right and left while I try to manage a classroom of little ones who don't know how to manage their emotions, navigate social interactions appropriately, struggle with being able to maintain focus for any length of time, struggle to function without a device in their hands, and have difficulty with listening to one another, let alone a teacher; and oh yes, I'm also trying to find a way to teach in the midst of all this chaos.

I'm always told by my principals, "Mrs. Thomas, you have a gift with these kids" or "You have a way with this group of children" or "You have such love for these kids."  Thank you.  Truly.  I try so hard to love all kids and see the good in each of them.  They all do have good in them and need someone to believe in them and love them.  But I consistently get a lot of "these kids" as my principals of the past several years call them.  Rob and I tried to sit down and look back and think when was the last class I had that was not challenging, and it was at least 8 or 9 years ago. This year I moved to a new district and school.  I thought at least this year I would get a break because they don't know me so maybe I wouldn't get so many; principals don't usually hand out the tough cases to unknown teachers.  But not so.  My new principal told me recently that she gave me particular children because of what my former principal told her about me.  My teammates, the specialists, the school counselor, some of the kindergarten teachers, and the reading teacher that pulls some of my children and comes in to help with math all tell me that I have all the mental health issues on the grade level in my room, the most "challenging children" in my class.  So no break for me.

Here is a glimpse in the events of last two weeks.  And just in case someone thinks I am exaggerating, I am not.  If anything, I am understating things.  These events happened exactly as I am writing them, in my first grade classroom, and they're not even all the things that occurred. 

One morning during arrival/breakfast/morning work, a student got angry at his milk carton when it didn't open in the way he wanted and he began to scream quite loudly.  He threw his milk carton across the table causing the other children at the table to have to scatter to avoid getting milk on them.  When I tried to calmly ask him if I could help, he started screaming at me to "Shut up, shut the fuck up."  He began throwing his breakfast and his book box and anything he could get his hands on. He threw his juice carton at my head.  I had to evacuate the room so that none of the children had anything thrown at them or were hit by flying objects.  I had to quickly tell all the children to get their breakfast and/or morning work and go find a teacher to go to or go to their specials buddy teacher and stuck my head out my classroom door to see if any of my teammates were out in the hallway so they would know kids were coming to them.  Then I went right back to trying to de-escalate the situation.  He continued to scream as loudly as he could at me to "shut the fuck up, this is the worst day ever, I said to shut up bitch."  He went under a table and refused to come out.  He began to scream at another staff member who arrived to assist me and it took about ten minutes to get him calmed down and agree to leave the room with the other staff member.  

At lunch one day, a female student told me that a male student touched her in her private area.  When I investigated he told me he "accidentally grabbed her in her privates."  I have no idea how you "accidentally grab" another student there.  And this is a student who had already been spoken with by myself and three other staff members about the inappropriateness of speaking about our private parts to others, especially female students.  And yes, I have referred this student for help from our counselor. And communicated with home.

A student who has an extremely profound fear of loud noises went outside at recess and refused to go play. This has been an ongoing issue inside and outside all year, and it has prevented me from teaching several times this year.  She stood in my personal space (literally in my face) and would not let me work with a student I was trying to help with a math problem so that this child could then go play and have his recess. She kept saying she was afraid.  When I asked her what she was afraid of, she replied, "the sun."  I was so confused.  Why are you afraid of the sun?  Her response, "I'm scared."  This is the typical conversation I have with her when she gets stuck on something- "I'm scared." "Honey, what are you scared of?" "I'm scared."  "Of what sweetheart?" "I'm scared."  It goes round and round and round.  When you try to reassure her that the sun (or whatever it is she's afraid of won't hurt her, that you're here to keep her safe, that she's okay, that I'll look out for her.....) she just keeps saying, "I'm scared," and she won't leave me or let me talk to anyone else, teach, do anything.  I tried to reassure her that the sun wasn't going to hurt her and she was safe.  Then she said she was scared of my whistle because I was going to blow it.  This has been the most recent "I'm scared" object; I once again reassured her that we had just come outside and I wasn't going to blow the whistle for 30 minutes, and that like I do every day, I would let her know before I blow the whistle so she could move away from me and not be close by.  But she would not move, she would not go play, or let me work with this other child.  I tried to find a friend for her to play with, nothing worked.  I tried to call her mom for help but mom has blocked my number and won't accept my phone calls. 

Another morning at arrival, a student entered the doorway and instantly began screaming at me at the top of his lungs, "SHUT UP" when I did my usual greeting.  He screamed that he didn't have the right coat, he had his brother's coat.  My teammate next door came running immediately to see if I needed help and just started helping my other children move away from this child and I so that I could try to calm him down.  He was inconsolable.  He had left his coat in his dad's car and had his brother's coat and would not be calmed.  I had to text for help.  He began to throw things and bang his head on the table.  Administration came and he calmed down to a loud yell and banging his head and admin slowly walked away and left him in the room.  Then he began to laugh and run around the room smacking all of the children in the back of the head.

One morning a student chose to read his book instead of doing his morning work assignment (which was a fun computer-based assignment).  When it was time to transition to our first lesson, then the child decided he'd get out his computer and log in to do his morning work.  I quietly walked over to him and let him know that the time for morning work was over and it was time for him to join us on the carpet for our phonics lesson.  He got angry, punched his computer screen and keyboard, slammed his computer shut and punched it again and stomped over to get a pencil- punching class objects that were in his path on the way- the table, chairs, the bucket of sharpened pencils which went flying.  The next day he discovered that his keyboard was not typing properly- when he typed a d, it typed an s, etc.  He brought it to me to show me, and I gently suggested that it might have gotten broken when he punched it yesterday, that I would put in a work order for him so that the technology department could fix it for him.  All seemed well.  Later that day, however, he wanted to work on his computer and I reminded him that it was broken.  He told me to make another child give up their computer, and I told him I wouldn't do that as it wasn't fair to them.  He began to scream at me, picked his computer up off my table, held it up in the air, dropped it on the floor, stomped on it, kicked it, picked it up and began punching it.

A student cut another child's hair.  When asked what happened, he said, "I saw something in her hair so I tried to take it out."  (with scissors)  He insists that he cut her hair on accident.  He didn't know the scissors were in his hand and that he was cutting her hair.  Then he threw a God-awful temper tantrum when I said that I had to call his mom.  I had to call the other child's mom to let her know that her child's hair was cut so I was also going to let his mom know what happened.  He went ballistic on me, threw himself down on the floor repeatedly, screaming, crying, yelling at me.  Told me "She (the other child) said she'd give me another chance."  

At lunch one day a student unzipped his pants, pulled down his underwear and exposed himself to a fourth grade class as they passed by to get their lunches, smiling the entire time, all while sitting just a few feet behind my back while I was at the teacher's lunch table.  I had JUST started sitting at the teacher table a month ago because I was trying to wean my children from having to have my constant support at lunch.  None of the other teachers eat with their kids, I'm new at this school and feel some pressure that I should eat with my team, they talk about things at lunch and then I'm often out of the loop.  But I have decided that it is better for my students that I just eat with them to avoid these more severe behaviors and help keep them from making such poor choices.  This meant that on Valentines Day when they had a special luncheon for the teachers in another room, I had to miss out.  All the other teachers got a catered lunch and duty-free lunch while I sat with my children in the cafeteria.  

During a recent all school assembly, I was sitting with a child of mine who has autism and severe sensory issues. He wears headphones but I still have to hold him on my lap, rock him, and cover his ears with my hands.  He screams and cries and kicks and hits me throughout the assembly.  I was trying to comfort and help him while supervising my class, and had several other children misbehaving during the assembly and taking advantage of me being busy to misbehave and not follow school rules.

During a math lesson, a child got angry because I called on him several times but not every time and I called on a neighbor instead of him.  He began to stab the carpet with his markers, threaten to stab me, began to scream at me each time I tried to talk.  I could not teach because he would begin to scream over my voice so that no one could hear me.  I tried to ignore him, but he started screaming at other children who tried to answer me.  He finally went to the quiet corner and continued to scream and threw things.

Another child also got frustrated during a lesson on another day and screamed at me, "I hate you. I never want to see your face again."  He refused to do his math assignment and went to the quiet corner and tore it apart.

We have to use something called Educator's Handbook to write students up for behaviors that are not able to be addressed with our classroom management systems or for more serious problems.  I have always resisted using it in years past because nothing ever came of it, but being new to this school, trying to start fresh this year (new district, new school, new boss), and trying to document all the things going on in my room to try to get my kids some mental health, behavioral, academic help, I have been using Educator's Handbook as instructed.  In a first grade classroom, as of this writing I have written 54 minor writeups and have 18 office referrals.  For every one of these I have to complete an official parent notification.  This is in addition to the run-of-the-mill every day behavior notes I often send - both positive and negative that are handled outside Educator's Handbook.  I try to send more positive notes for academics and behavior than negative so I make sure if I have sent something negative that I am going back and finding positive things to say to a parent about their child as well.  

And in case you're thinking that I just have lousy classroom management, I'm always open for improving and I am sure I can do things better, but everyone who interacts with my class sees these issues and has difficulties as well.  My reading specialist just pulls small groups of my children and brings them back and tells me OFTEN that she is experiencing the exact same problems that I am in class and that is with just a small group of 3-5 children.  I have several children who have struggled with self-harm this year, children with serious mental health problems, autism, ADHD.  It is just a truly needy group this year. And I am their teacher.

I am utterly exhausted and getting really demoralized.  I am sure if I shared all this with anyone who didn't work in school they wouldn't believe it.  I try to just say "I'm fine" or "I'm doing good" when asked how I am because I don't honestly know what to say.  No one really wants to hear all this shit and they probably wouldn't believe me anyway.  And the few times when I have tried to share just a small part of this mess, it seems like it makes others feel awkward or bad or they don't know what to say.  So it's just better to keep my mouth shut and go on. I don't want to make others feel bad or awkward, and there's nothing that can really be said.  I just have to make it.  Somehow.


Saturday, May 02, 2015

The Unknowns

 I'm so not happy with myself.  I had been doing so well!  I feel like I'm just trying to hang onto the rope at this point.  Getting ready for the big day is taking everything I've got, and between being in pain, getting little to no sleep, and trying to get everything done I've fizzled out on where I was going.  I'm angry with myself and feel like I'm making excuses when I try to cut myself a little, tiny piece of slack.


I am scared.  People with their opinions of this surgery come out of the woodwork.  Last week it was our school nurse whose face and expressed thoughts clearly said I was being stupid to get this done- "Both knees???"  She didn't think I could hold myself up afterwards or would be able to move with both knees done at the same time.  A concern I am already thinking of.

I came home and almost cried, but don't really have time to do that either.  I hope I am doing the right thing.  Surely my doctor would not let me proceed with both if he didn't think I could do it.  I keep telling myself that.

And keep hanging in there.  I will get through this and back on the gym wagon the way I was.  I may have to modify what I do but I will get the last of this weight off.  I'm trying to be a bit more gentle with myself right now, trying.

I won't lie though, in the back of my mind, where I don't dwell because it won't do any good and there's just not time, I'm scared of all the unknowns.  Praying for no complications, no horrible pain, a speedy recovery so I can return to my job, to my normal life, to the gym, to my weight loss....  Praying for this to all work out even better than I can imagine.  And I'm trying to not think too much about the unknowns.

Monday, April 27, 2015

Sleep deprivation stinks

I was going to sit down and make myself write out some of my feelings, but at this point I'm so tired I don't think it would even make sense at all.  I have hit some serious sleep deprivation and am starting to have difficulties with my memory, thinking, and emotions.  Yup, the self-hate train has picked me up and whisked me away once again. :(

I hope that this will all start to improve soon.  One way or another I hope to get some rest soon.  Surgery is three weeks from today.  I would guess that will knock me on my back and force me to rest.  I just hope I can sleep at some point. Three more weeks of this is going to be awful.

Maybe that's all I need to say for now.  I'm exhausted beyond description.  My knees are deteriorating qiuckly and the pain is awful.  I have had to be out of the gym a lot lately because of so many medical appointments and trying to get everything done to be ready for surgery and company and doing things with my family.  That is making me feel like a failure BIG time too.

I'm just in a tiny bit of a mood I guess.  Trying oh so hard to not have a pity party.  I have no reason at all to pity myself.  I keep telling myself "Suck it up, buttercup."

So for tonight, that's all I've got.

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Life. Rebekah.

Life.  Rebekah.

Busy?  Intensely so.
Happily busy?  Most often.

Mistakes?  Oh my, yes!
Lessons learned?  Most definitely!

Regrets?  Many.
Satisfactions? Even more!!!

Losses? Yes, hard ones.
Loves? :) More love than I can even describe!  I am loved! What else really matters?

Hurts?  A few.
Joys?  Daily. Too many to count!!!

Disappointments?  Some.
Hopes?   Endless. :) So many hopes.





Bilateral Knee Surgery

In all the craziness of this winter, my family and I and orthopedic doctor reached an agreement that surgery needs to happen.  The original plan was for one surgery this summer on my left knee (Fred) and then the right (George) next summer.  After doing some reading about the surgery, rehab, and the costs I almost had a panic attack!  It's a wee bit expensive. :)

Soooo.... the plan has become both knees this year.  One summer, one bill, one heck of a challenge.  I'm terrified, if I'm honest, but I'm trying to not be honest to anyone besides Rob. I will be okay I am almost sure.  I am pretty sure I can do this.  And I keep asking my doctor and primary care and Rob and trainer if they think I can really do this.  Surely someone would say no if they thought I couldn't handle it.

Still, I know this is not going to be a pleasant experience.  I'm trying to prepare myself for that.  Pain- lots of it.  Hard, hard, hard work to learn to use new knees and to regain the strength and flexibility in injured muscles.  Then gaining back my strength and stamina in my exercise and weight loss journey that will surely be lost.

And in the preparatory work on the way to the big S day, life has become intensely intense.  I'm struggling with maintaining my gym routines in all the parent-teacher conferences, lesson planning and prepping.  My pain level is on the rise big time and my sleep has begun to deteriorate until I'm down to about 4 hours at most. All that is adding up to less gym time and that's not helping the battle with the scale or my willpower or self-esteem.  I'm feeling like a failure again.

I keep telling myself, "Hang in there, this is going to pass.  You WILL get through this time and look back on it and be proud of yourself.   It is what it is.  You've just got to do the best you can and accept that it may not be what you want it to be."  And that's what I've got to keep doing.  Going on, doing my best, hanging in there, and living this life to the best of my ability.

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Boundaries

I've never been good at setting boundaries for myself.  I have often let people walk on me, and then often feel guilty (psycho, I am!).  I also am not good at setting personal boundaries, as in I overextend myself ALL. THE. TIME.  "No" has not been in my vocabulary with regards to personal relationships.

When I changed schools two years ago, I had reached a wall, turning point, whatever you want to call it.  I made so many changes within myself that spring and have maintained them all.  And starting fresh can sometimes be just what someone needs.  At least in my case it was.  I still overextend myself all the time, but at least now it is more about me doing things I want to do and less about doing what I "ought to do" or what someone else wants me to do.  I still don't know how to just sit, be quiet, relax, take it easy, which I realize is probably a problem, but I'm happy. :)  Work wise- I'm in a much better place, feel super supported, loved, and appreciated and feel like I'm growing again instead of just fighting to stay alive.

And recently something else just "clicked" inside me again- I felt it almost physically.  A line was crossed and the reaction I felt in my gut, in my heart, and in my head said, "No more!" It hurts that I have to set a boundary with someone I once loved, but I have spent my entire adult life wishing for what was not to be.  I have had years and years and years of nightmares where my brain tried to make sense of my desire to be known and loved with the awfulness of a childhood trauma and the silence that came from others.  It's left me with countless sleepless nights and awful, teary mornings and days with an uneasiness that I had to fight throughout whatever I was doing.

No more.  I will not do this again and again and again.  I wish it were different.  I wish I could make it all go away and be something else.  I really do.  It is not about unforgiveness or holding grudges.  It is about too much time passing, too much silence in the void, too many attempts on my part and too much hurt and fear of hurting more for my heart to be able to make another risky leap into that void.  I cannot offer what I do not have to give.  I have forgiven, but I cannot give back what someone else gave up and took away.  Trust, once broken, is not easy to restore, but when countless attempts at trusting someone and loving someone are ignored and rebuffed... well, it's just too late.

Someone else filled that place. My children.  Rita.  Especially my Firsties, the Kinderkids, the little ones that I have adored and will continue to love each year and who give me back more unconditional love than I could ever fathom (and their families).  And for that, I suppose I actually should thank you.  Because of you, I know what rejection feels like and the hurt and damage that can do to a child.  And because of that I am a better person, a much better teacher.  I have, hopefully, loved and helped children because of that knowledge.  And maybe, just maybe, the world is or will be a better place.  So it's not all bad.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Stuck

I haven't written in a while.  It doesn't mean I've stopped.  The last few months have been busy, very busy.  I got sick.  Reactions to meds. Bad allergies. Tendinitis. Decisions.

Life.

And in all that life, I've gotten stuck on the scale.  :(  Nothing horrible. Just stuck.  I have to be honest too.  My eating is suffering.  I'm having a hard time.  This is the first big, long, hard plateau I've had.  I am fighting a little discouragement.  I am aggravated at myself and my lack of self control on tightening up myself.  I am not doing as well as I was about being able to self-talk.  What happened to the girl who used to hate herself and used that to motivate herself?

I keep thinking, that for all the people who told me it was not good to self-hate and say mean things to myself- "See, it worked."  I know, mental.  Seriously.

My clothes are getting tighter and my shape is slowly changing in some needed places, but it is slow.  I needed it to go faster than this.

BUT- and this is a good but- I haven't given up either.  I'm still trying, still going to the gym, still aware of the problem and trying.  The old Rebekah would have given up a long time ago.  I may have hit a bump, but I'm still fighting.

I will win this war.

Saturday, January 17, 2015

Another Step Forward

(This is my sweet, beautiful daughter- after a jam-packed Zumba class last night!)

I keep pushing pushing pushing pushing....  I have stepped out of my comfort zone so many times in the gym and done things I would never have seen myself doing before.  I find myself liking me here and there for a few minutes at a time.  It's a very new sensation, and when I realize I'm doing it, well it makes me uncomfortable so I go back to my usual self-hate mode, but for just a minute, I sort of mentally "bask" in the good feeling.  :)  I'm definitely changing, I think mostly for the better! :)

So, last night was Friday night Zumba time, but our usual Friday instructor was absent and there was a very well-known, very liked instructor subbing.  His class was PACKED like I can't describe.  There was hardly room to move, and when my daughter & I arrived we couldn't find a place to go except to literally force/squeeze/push our way up in the front- RIGHT. SMACK. IN. FRONT.

As in, kiss this mirror hello, front of the class kind of front!
An "oh my word I'm going to throw up" kind of front.
The you can't hide from the teacher or the class kind of front.

I HATE being in front- always have even as a little kid in school.  I was always the tallest and felt like I stuck out a million miles away, so I've always been the one trying to hide at the back of the room, in the corner, please just don't notice me, call me out, or draw any attention to me kind of person.  Add to those feelings I already naturally have my huge size, well you can understand how I just try to hide in the back of Zumba classes.

 Then there's the mirror.  Well, we won't even go there. :)  I usually try to avoid looking in the mirror every bit of every class.  Eyes on the instructor the whole time or down at my feet- focus on the music, the rhythm, the steps, counting, looking/feeling the patterns of the music and steps....

Last night I could not help but look in the mirror.  It was not the most pleasant experience being up front in a room filled with people almost hip to hip deep staring at the large person I am, but I did it. With a room full of much more fit, agile, young, hip, pretty people, I danced my way awkwardly and self-consciously through some awesome music.   Part way through class I realized what a big step I had just taken for myself, and I felt a little seed of pride deep down inside. :)  Wow, this girl.... she's changing a lot!  She's definitely changing.

Sunday, January 04, 2015

then & now photo

I am saving my journaling about the weight loss journey for here, but wanted to share this photo here as well.  I was in tears when I put on these "fat lady pants" I'd saved.  They're the only piece of clothing I've saved for this purpose.  I knew I'd changed but wow, not this much! :)



then & now photo

I don't do these photos very often, but here goes.  I was cleaning out my clothes again and came across the one pair of pants I kept for this purpose.  I was stunned, truly, truly stunned!  So far to go still, but wow, I've come a lot further than I realized!!!  And with no cartilage knees that the doc says are as bad/worse than an 80 year old's!  In pain and limping and still going.  That has to count for something!!!  Maybe, it's me I'm talking about- don't give yourself any slack Rebekah. ;) hehehehe

On to the next phase- trying to lose as close to 30 pounds by June 1, 2015 as I can with the limitations I've got.

Friday, January 02, 2015

Six months, six more months

I survived a crazy- busy month of planning, doing, a big class service project, making 23 reading blankets for my students, crocheting like a crazy woman, making many homemade gifts for my family, and of course, work, gym, and oh yeah, regular life. :)

After working like a mad woman before/after Christmas to work on gifts and projects, I took a couple days this week and vegged (as much as I possibly can anyway- still did lots of crocheting but sat more than my norm).

Now it's back to the real world, back to the grind, back to rushing from work to gym to home and repeating it all the next day.  Six months to accomplish my next weight goal before I have knee surgery.  Six months to push through and work hard and make good things happen.

I can do this!

Sunday, November 30, 2014

Being Realistic

The holidays are here and my birthday falls in here too.  I don't do lots of sweets all year long- the only time I make a dessert is for the birthdays in our house and at Thanksgiving and Christmas.  I've never been a big baker of treats.   Someone asked me if I was going to have trouble with the holidays "sticking to my healthy lifestyle."  My response was easy.  I am going to be careful but enjoy whatever I want to.  Not overdo, but if I want a cookie, I'm going to have one.  Pumpkin pie for my birthday, a few cookies on Christmas.  My goal is to not gain back weight over Christmas break.  If I don't lose in that time, I'm okay with that.  I want to enjoy life.  I work out hard (too hard I'm often told) daily.  I am going to live my life and not be unrealistic.

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Changes

It's funny how losing a very large amount of weight changes things.  Changes me.  Changes others. Changes relationships.  Especially changes me.

I know change is part of life.  I am usually one who embraces change and likes to see new things, go to new places, do new things...  I'm not saying I mind all the changes that are happening in my life, but it is definitely different, and some changes I did not expect.

I know someone who lost a large amount of weight with her husband's support, but when she got close to her weight goal, he left her because he couldn't handle it.  I thought it was so sad and strange and cruel at the time.  Now, I see people around me treating me differently.  A lot of friendly teasing going on, and that's cool, but I also get the smart-aleck comments, and the snide "oh look at you" kinds of statements, like it's somehow just easy for me to say "no" to things I want to eat or to exercise self control or push myself past horrible pain and make myself go to the gym daily, some days twice a day.

I also didn't know that I would change so much that I would feel alienated from people I've known for years.

I am learning to depend on God and myself much more and other people much less.  I have been able to count on my husband who is on this journey with me.  He is the one I depend on so many days and that I know I can talk to no matter what.  Most of the time he "gets it" because he's also experiencing these changes and the ways people are different to him as well.  And when he doesn't get it, he just listens to me, tells me he loves and then proves it.  I'm so grateful that I have him and his unconditional love.  I don't know where this journey is going to take me, but I am hopeful that God & Rob will be there through it all and I pray that for whatever I have to give up, God will give me the strength to stand on my own.

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Post Obesity Body

Someday I hope, no make that plan, to not be obese.  But I know that even then I will not be pretty.  I have given up on that a long time ago.  When I started this health improvement effort, I knew I couldn't get back the pretty, thin me I used to be, and I have settled for smaller and healthier-that's not a bad "settle for" in my book.  I wasn't quite prepared for what weight loss of this extreme nature would look like, and I still am not sure how it will look on this body, but I'm starting to get an idea.

I'm not showing under the clothes to anyone (there are only two people on earth I trust with that), so they don't know what this fat body looks like underneath the layers I use to hide it as best I can.  They don't know about the loose skin that's starting to show up now as the fat goes away.  They don't know how ugly I find it on my own self.  I'm not saying that anyone else is ugly who has this.  I am NOT judging another soul.  I am simply stating that I find my body gross and revolting to look at, even as I lose the fat.  I haven't liked myself in the mirror for years and years, and I'm coming to understand that I probably never will because when the fat is gone it won't look pretty still.  It's going to be covered in stretchy, flabby skin that just hangs and gets in the way.  

I'm okay with this.  I avoid mirrors most of the time anyway, and I can hide the body under layers of prettier clothes.  No one else has to see it.  The only place I can see me having a problem will be the pool, but I will figure that one out somehow.  

My sister posted a link to this video this week, not sure where she came across it or what made her share it, but I was thankful that someone was brave enough to share his own story.  I don't think I could ever do that, brave as I want to be, that couldn't be me.  


I'm proud of myself for sticking with this and losing as much weight as I've lost.  It's a great thing I know, and something I never could do before.  But it's also mixed with other problems and issues and not just some simple, "happy ending" kind of story.  I have ruined my body in so many ways and can never go back or undo the damage I've caused for myself.  That is something I regret more than I can ever say.

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Walk with me please

I have heard so many times, "You have such a pretty face/eyes/smile/complexion/fill-in-the-blank."  I know you mean those compliments, truly.  I know that in your mind it is true.  I accept that and appreciate the thoughts and that you have a good view of me.  

What I wish, though, is that you could see my life through my own experiences and eyes and not the rose-colored glasses you have because you love me and know me as a person.  I know it must be frustrating to love me and care about me and see all the wonderful things a loved one does and then to watch me "tear myself apart" the way I know I do.  It is NOT about self-hatred, though I admit there is a part of me that struggles with that.  It is about the way I feel in the real world I live in and interact with.  

Try going to the store with me or the post office, the doctor's office, or movie theater.  Try to see me the way others do who don't know me, who don't see the hugs I give or the way I interact with kids, or the many other positives that anyone who knows me might say/think about me. Try to see me the way the "public" does.  It isn't me "just being sensitive."  I'm so tired of that!  Sorry to say it and hurt you; I am, though.  

There was a time when I quit going out in public unless I absolutely had to because of the hideous way I felt every time I went to the store or bank or ran an errand.  I was so ashamed of who I had become based only on my size.  This was wrong thinking, but you cannot understand how beaten down one can become when you can't go anywhere without the rude comments, laughter, pointing, stares, or just plain nastiness you get when you are grossly overweight.   God only knows how many photos of me I have had people take on their cellphones.  I'm sure I am probably on the people of Walmart website somewhere if I wanted to look.   Walk with me and watch people move aside like my fat-ness is contagious or so that they can get a better staring or photographic view.  Listen to the ugly, hurtful things people say as if I'm deaf or perhaps deserve to hear their contempt because I'm just a blob, not really a person.  It's like nothing I've ever experienced in my life.  It goes way beyond embarrassed. There are no words for it.  You feel less than human.  It's a hurt that goes deep down inside and stays there when it happens over and over and over.  

I'm not saying I have some excuse for staying a blob- I did this to myself.  I own that and take full responsibility for it.  I am saying I do not feel pretty and honestly am not sure I ever will.  I just wish you could understand that.  I am not asking you to like it or agree, but if you could understand where this comes from, that there are valid reasons for it and try to be patient and accepting of my own self-view, well it'd help a lot.

This has all been sitting in my head the last few days.  Then today I saw an old high school classmate's post and comments regarding this article.   This classmate is an amazing lady.  She teaches children no one else wants to teach in a rough place and does it with this unending God love, and an amazing tenacity to stick with these kids.  She is a mom and seems to be raising three great kids who are going to help make the world a better place.  She organizes fundraisers and collects food, clothes, and other needed items for homeless folks.  I could go on and on about her.  She's always sharing prayer and practical needs for other folks.  She's a TERRIFIC person.  Yet, she shared today that someone made some awful, terrible comments in the presence of her kids about her (called her a nasty fat bitch) just because of her size.  I will bet money that she does more good in ten minutes of her day than most people do all year long or even their whole lives, but I guess because she's obese she's not worthy of kindness either in this person's book.  This post just broke my heart.  I am not alone in this awful experience.  I hate that other people go through this too.  There are so many wonderful people walking around doing good in the world, being kind and loving and helping others who get treated like they are less than the dirt on the ground based on the size of their body.

Whether you want to see it or not, it exists and happens daily to me and to many, many others.  It's very real to us.  It is a deeply personal thing that I've been dealing with for years and years.  I have begun the journey to a healthier me, and with God's help I will get where I need to be.  I hope the inside parts of me will heal and change and grow too; I believe they very much are doing that as well as the outside.  But I hope you can understand and accept that I will never see me the way you do.  I'm sorry that it causes you hurt.  I hope that you can come to terms with who I am, all of me and not take it as a personal thing.

R :)