Teaching

An unexpected rush of feelings has sent me into a tailspin for the last couple of days.  The first bout of depression I've had all summer. 

I put on a suit and tie and went looking for some tutoring work at the local school districts.  I thought I might just introduce myself to the special education teachers and drop off my business card.  Somehow I ended up meeting the superintendent who practically begged me to get on the substitute teacher list and get my name known around the district.  Maybe it was the suit and tie.  Maybe it was being asked.  Maybe it was the feeling having my services being needed in a district again.

I was a good teacher.  A lot of the time I was a great teacher.  For many years I felt as if teaching was my "calling".  Problem was, near the end I just couldn't show up. Sometimes it was just short term bipolar symptoms that knocked me out for a day or two.  Sometimes it was a more significant episode that took me out of a week or month long medical leave of absence.  I couldn't keep doing that.  It wasn't fair to the students, the district, or myself.

It took me a few hours, but eventually I realized that I just couldn't get back in the game.  I thought I had accepted my bipolar disorder and most of the time I have.  I thought I had accepted my disability diagnosis.  Maybe it was that we could really use the money right now.  Maybe it was the ever present societal pressure for men to work and provide.  Whatever it was it knocked me out of commission.

I just couldn't accept that I wasn't going back to teaching.  I'm out of that game.  I thought I'd been through all of that years ago. 

A couple of things snapped me back into focus.  My wife and I spoke about what I am really "called" to today.  It's not playing superhero as a public school special education teacher.  It's not bringing down the salary.  I think, or rather she thought, that it was something else.  It's raising these kids.  It's taking care of these animals on the farm.  It's volunteering.  And maybe it's carrying the message of Narcotics Anonymous to the still suffering addict and alcoholic.

And as for the finances, well, it was pointed out my a fellow NA member that I really have what's called "luxury problems."  My car may be a piece of crap, but hey at least I have a car.  It's paid for.  It runs.  I have a driver's license today.  And I even have a full tank of gas.  Yes, I have a lot to be grateful for.  I am truly blessed.