My mom gave me some good advice that I am choosing to take.
I am really upset about changes to the instrumental music program at my son's school. As a former instrumental music teacher and a current instrumental music parent, I am very emotionally attached to this issue.
However, it isn't good for me or my family to let my feelings about this issue suck me under. So I should speak my piece, understand that whatever decision they made is likely to stand anyway, and just know that my children will be fine.
Since making this decision I have been able to sleep more easily because I don't feel that the entire future of the instrumental music teaching profession rests on my shoulders. Which it never did anyway, really.
The messages in Quaker meeting this week dealt a lot with growth, and with just being. The miraculousness of seeds that contain all of their treeness within them and they grow into just what they should be. A maple seed knows to become a maple tree. It just reaches its arms into the light and stands tall. An invitation from the light: be with me.
Concentrating less on doing and more on being. This is not an easy message for me. I like to do. Being is fraught with introspection and self-doubt. Doing keeps me busy. Doing produces visible results. Being can also seem lazy. But what I am searching for is not the lack of do-ing, but the presence of be-ing.
I want to be a supporter of instrumental music without trying to overhaul the entire system on my own. Say my piece, do what I can, and get out of the way.
I also followed the advice of a friend who suggested not waiting until I have been compliant with my meds for longer before going in to see a behavioral health specialist. She advised telling them that I think the reason I keep going off them is they are no longer as effective as they used to be. Which is probably true.
When I called this morning I was told by my health care provider that the earliest opening in behavioral health was in September! (Note: today is May 20). Right.
Now, there is a workaround and after transferring me a few times to a few different departments I have a meeting with a psychiatric nurse practitioner this Friday. I know they save some spots for emergency visits and people in crisis. But HONESTLY. September?
It's hard enough to seek treatment for mental health. Who can wait that long? How many people choose not to be seen because it is to frustrating to work your way into the system?
When your brain is not working at top form it can be surprisingly difficult to advocate for yourself. My advice is, if you don't feel strong enough to fight your way through the phone trees... enlist a friend who most reminds you of a bulldog. Or a snapping turtle.
Quaker, teacher, parent,