“Ms. I’ve never seen you take a day off,” Josh, one of my top, and most outgoing students, commented to me last Tuesday, October 18.
At this, I smirked and responded, “Not yet.” (At this moment, I was not thinking of taking any day offs soon, but realized that I was falling into my workaholic tendencies once more.)
To be honest, I thought I became more comfortable with taking days off from teaching ever since I achieved a record of taking a total of 5 sporadic days off last school year due to stomach ache and headache issues. I vowed that I will take care of my health better, particularly my mental health. I even scheduled a doctor’s appointment for a health checkup on a school day of this school year back in September.
However, I ended up moving that doctor’s appointment to October 19 because my school district decided to turn 4 awkward Wednesdays in the school year into “Acceleration Days” where students can catch up or “accelerate” their learning due to being held back by the pandemic. But it was an optional day for students and teachers, and I had decided that I was not going to work on these days. Inconveniently, our union managed to move these days into winter and spring break, so, alas, October 19 transformed back into a regular school day.
Once again, against my resolution to put my health first, I ended up moving my doctor’s appointment to a much later date.
On the night of October 18, I came home exhausted, and unfortunately, at some point through the night, I broke down, questioning how long I can still work as a teacher anymore. I took a long shower to try to diffuse my stream of salty tears down the drain.
With swollen heavy eyes, I slept. Everything was dark. Suddenly, a lesson plan outline on a Google Doc appeared in front of my face. The words prior knowledge, common core standards, key vocabulary, essential question, and lesson sequence screamed out of the nicely lined boxes that held them. My principal’s voice droned on about how to change certain things. We kept going back and forth about the pacing of the lesson plan, with words that I no longer remember, but the burning feelings of frustration and anger remained. I wanted to implode.
My eyes instantly opened and a sharp headache seized me. I blinked multiple times, willing myself to sleep again, but couldn’t. I walked myself to the bathroom, and then to the kitchen.
The time on the microwave read, 2:37AM.
I opened up a cabinet and grabbed an Advil gel capsule and a minty sleeping pill.
After gulping them down, I plopped myself back onto my bed. For the next hour, I tossed and turned. Tossed and turned. I kept debating with myself, should I take the day off? But it’s a testing day. I locked up all the testing materials. Will the sub find them? Who will actually sub my class? I will have to bother my colleagues… My markers are not safely put away. I don’t want to come back to a chaotic classroom with missing items. My post its with student notes are all out in the open. What should I do?
My headache kept burning on. The Advil and sleeping pill did not work.
I took a deep breath and knew what I had to do. I got up and went to the living room to retrieve my phone. The white light burned into my pupils as I sent a text message to the school secretary saying that I will not be coming in. I then wrote another text draft message asking my colleague neighbors for assistance to help put away my materials. I turned off my 5:23AM alarm and reset it to 7AM.
After a few more seconds, my heart stopped beating so fast; my mind slowly faded away into calmness.
It was as if only a few minutes have past before the 7AM alarm jolted me up. I felt slightly better, but I still called the school and told them I was calling in sick. I clicked “send” on my phone to deliver the draft message. I sent a short e-mail to the other admin regarding the test and lesson my students are supposed to do. When I saw one of colleagues replying to me with pictures of my classroom markers and post it notes in a safe place behind my whiteboard shelf, I smiled and texted back, thank you!
Flipping my phone over, I peacefully sank into my blankets and embraced rest.
October 19, my first day off. History did not repeat itself.
I returned to work October 20, much more refreshed.
I believe this dream was God’s sign for me to take a break physically and mentally. I have never had a nightmare about lesson planning before. Most of my teaching nightmares from my early years focused on classroom management. However, this year, due to some frustrating lesson planning experiences with a certain colleague and the principal, what used to give me confidence and creative motivation now took a mental toll on me, as seen in this dream experience. I will also be taking a short 2 month hiatus here on Haunting Comforts, to reorganize my mental and physical health. See you in December!
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Oh wow, I didn’t know you were having a rough patch. Sounds somewhat like what I’m going through. Haven’t fully pulled myself out of my own ditch too. You know what’s best for you, even though it may not feel like it, so definitely listen to that voice, and here’s to coming back stronger than ever after your 2-month blog break!
Thank you for your support!
You came out great 💪
🙏 Thank you.
Thank you for sharing! I went through a similar thing end of September with headaches, kept pushing off my doctors appointments, and ended up taking 5 days off and felt like I couldn’t take it anymore. Hope you get some well-deserved rest!
Thank you for stopping by ❤️