I switched to teaching 3-year-olds. It is going pretty well. I am enjoying working with slightly older kids, working on name recognition and doing parts of crafts that I didn't let my toddlers do (like squeezing out the glue to stick wings on the space rocket). Admittedly, I still had a hand on the bottle most of the time... It is so important to let the kids do art themselves and not to "fix" it for them, but the perfectionist in me is hard pressed sometimes to let things turn out differently than I had planned. But it has been good.
But my life stress level has definitely bumped up a notch. And the depression thinking is kicking into gear. It is like a fever, or throwing up, or coughing. It means I'm sick with a mental illness.
No problem; I know how to deal with that.
As long as I don't freak out. Here is my one paragraph lament; I never wanted to feel this way again! What if it gets worse? I hate depression!
Okay, now that is done. But I think I will call my counselor and try to see her this month instead of waiting until the end of July. See, I wanted to be able to prove to myself that I didn't need to see her every month. When I see her, I'm often doing well - it is between visits now that my depression shows up. So I pull back into my brain the random condemnation some people have thrown into the air, about those people who wont just live their life on their own but have to keep bugging a counselor. Weak people. Or monetarily wasteful people. Or both.
What happened to my belief that seeing my counselor as a preventative measure was okay? I take medication day in day out to keep the depression off, why can't I see my counselor once a month or every few weeks for the same reason?
Because I still want to be able to "man up" and handle my brain on my own. Ah, well. Better humble and happy than proud and depressed, right?