ME TOO

ME TOO

For the past couple of weeks, I have been an unhappy person. I am defeated and worn out. My default mode is frustrated. I don’t like the me I am at the moment.

I hit burn out.

I won’t bore you with all the details, but anyone who has been a teacher for very long will understand when I say it all began with a parent meeting. The meeting itself went really well. I was prayed up and ready to show love and grace. I listened to an attack and responded with genuine care.

However, the stress and the strain in waiting for the meeting, the energy it took to display love and grace as someone tried to cut me down, an unrelated event two days later of a student responding incredibly inappropriately to the consequences of his actions, and the bending over backwards for students to try to get them to succeed (and their refusal to put forth the necessary effort…a.k.a. senioritis)– all of this together has me feeling empty.

I’ve given what I have to give. I am walking through the day praying no one else will need me to go above and beyond.

It is a season. I will get through it. I am exercising, making time for friends, and taking most of Saturday off now.

I have a great support network, and I will be myself again soon.

The purpose of this post is to say, “me too.”

I’m saying, “me too,” because I know I am not the only one feeling there is nothing left to give today.

I am saying “me too,” so you will know you are not alone.

After my post “Lost Soul,” Rick Christensen let me know he often writes about dealing with depression. I invited him to share a post on my blog because we need grace for all seasons of life.

He sent me a link to this poem to share with you all.

Never One For Him

Each morning before the opening of the store

Sidewalks not swept, drunks still dreaming

He arises early to see them, he lives alone

Silent, he writes to no one in particular

Each has a name, so he wants to arrive early

Hospital scared and scarred him just for talking to no one

He greets each with a pleasant “good morning” and

compliments them on the slightest change especially on days

when he is convinced they even changed their make up

Old theater, down the street, somehow still open

Since he knows their names, he asks them out on dates

one by one of course

Then, on every Friday night, he buys two tickets

but always sits alone while he imagines

how nice it would be

to have a real person in his life

Before the street cleaner arrives

He has talked with each of them

Compliments more than questions

since mannequins don’t murmur

Back to his apartment he waits

for the postman to arrive just before one

he hears letters slide into receptive slots

Never one for him

Not once

Never one for him

We don’t have to be alone. We don’t have to go through life as mannequins, plastic and put together. We can reach out to the people who think they are alone and say, “me too.”

Rick blogs at DiscoveringAndSharingGrace.com.