I cut my hair. It looks nice. That is luck. It was a matter of impulse. I needed to get my hair cut and couldn't be bothered to wait. So I took an electric shaver to the back and a scissors to the front and things miraculously turned out just fine. Then I colored it red. My students didn't recognize me. I wonder if this wasn't the point.
When my Psych NP found out about the haircut, she cut back on the level of fluoxetine... afraid that it was causing cycling. Still in the Downs. Still don't care. Only sometimes able to put on a good show-- but mostly I have been absorbed in beading and writing and being irritated with anyone and anything that interferes with these two activities. Here is what is going on medication-wise: I am on 200 mg lamotrigine and 10mg fluoxetine. I need to do other things to fight the Depression but I'm just not there right now. It is hard to be compassionate with myself when I am pretty sure what I need is a kick in the ass. Had two "pajama days" which are always disasters. Children had no school on Thursday or Friday so I allowed everyone to just do whatever the whole day long. Which meant A LOT of video games for them and A LOT of beading for me. There were two days that I didn't write and it really pissed me off. Today my boss came in (on a Saturday) to collect my time card (which was five days late) and to let me know that there were two emails that I needed to respond to (which she also printed out for me). And she gave me a hug. I explained to my class that this is what it looks like when I am in trouble. After she left, I logged into my email (for the first time in two weeks or more) and archived everything. I am starting fresh. Sent word to my bosses/supervisors/team that I appreciate their support while I figure out the Depression crap and apologizing for being unwell. Having a hard time lately remembering that when I am well, I am really kind of amazing. Creative and energetic and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. Lately I feel like I am being crushed under said buildings instead. Don't like feeling that I am a liability. Blah. Comments are closed.
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K. BuchananQuaker, teacher, parent, |