Roadblocks, detours and inconvenient rest stops

I had such high hopes for this year, I was going to get my life on track, study a new course at uni, work casually, get fit... I can't say I've had a terribly successful year so far, but I have learnt some valuable lessons along the way.

I thought if I wasn't working full time that I could manage my anxiety better. How wrong was I? There were days when my anxiety attacks were so bad I was physically incapacitated. Some days were a complete write-off until I learned a few techniques to manage my own anxiety. One strategy I found helpful was mindfulness colouring (or mindlessness colouring I joke to myself!). Adjusting to the demands of study was an interesting ride, I was trying to be like every other uni student, keeping up with the readings and course work. I realised very swiftly there was no way I could keep up with everyone, luckily I had the foresight to have a study access plan prepared by the disability liaison office before the semester started! I knew my reading rate had slowed down since the stroke, and I find it extremely difficult to read on-screen. I had to make some major adjustments to my own expectations. My lecturers were very supportive and allowed me additional time to complete the work. By the end of semester one, I had managed a distinction in my final assessment task, had my assignment published by the lecturer on her website (along with a few other students) and I felt like I was in control of that aspect of my life!

I was trying really hard to get fit too, walking every day, doing some tai chi, meditating... and then I tripped over my own feet carrying a basket of washing. I was in agony, but thought my toes were just bruised. I saw my doctor the following week and was sent for x-rays. I knew it was bad when the technician asked what I'd done and told me it looked like I'd done a bit of damage. Three broken toes. No, there's nothing that can be done except tape them, ice them and keep off them as much as possible. 8 weeks later I was cleared to go back to exercise, but they've never been the same again! 6 months on and I still have bruises and aches whenever I exercise.

I sought casual work too, in a small community-based school. It went like this:

Assistant Principal: can you do a couple of days casual for us?

Me: sure!

AP: (a few days later) can you do the next two weeks, 4 days a week?

Me: yep, that should be fine.

AP: (after two weeks) the teacher you're replacing won't be back this term, can you stay til the end of term?

Me: sure! *in my head: OMG what have I got myself into??

So it was four days a week, 7.45am until at least 4.15pm in the classroom, in the space of 3 weeks there were 8 assessment tasks I was expected to mark, my one days off was spent planning lessons and catching up on marking. I got so far behind with uni I thought I was going to have to drop out. Huge issues with fatigue, anxiety, stress. Stopped exercising. But, just like a tea bag, you don't know how strong you can be until you're dropped in hot water! I got through it and realised some valuable lessons:

1. I didn't want to be a classroom teacher anymore

2. I can say 'no' without losing face

3. My life is more than my job

4. I can't help everyone or fix everyone's problems, and that's okay!

So I resigned my full time position (the one I was on leave from), I said no to a job offer at this community school for 2018, I know I can work as a casual teacher in the meantime, and I want to work in school libraries.

My last hurdle, and the biggest one thus far, was trying to get pregnant. I've had absolutely no luck with this goal, and I'm being sent to a fertility clinic (that I have to wait 4 months for an appointment). What they can do, I've no idea. Maybe this won't happen for me. I need to learn to be okay with that. I'm not okay with it now, but I guess time is the biggest healer.

I'm throwing myself into a moderate exercise regime, studying my butt off and trying to put it all out of my mind.

I started casual at a different school last week, I was asked what my story was. It was then that it came to me: The Road Not Taken, one of my favourite Robert Frost poems. "I took the path less travelled... and that has made all the difference." So, here's to taking the road less travelled!