I Guess I Can Talk About It Now


Well, now that I’m over the utter shock of having a job offered to me only to have it snatched away with no explanation aside from “We have re-evaluated our needs and the position is no longer available,” I guess I can write about it.

Thanks to friends, Dana, Andrena, and Mysie for their well-wishes.

I e-mailed the lady who was to be my department head. She had not heard the news yet, and she said she was in shock and felt badly for me. She added that she knew I must be heartsick. I am. That job would have been the culmination of things I’ve dreamed of in a teaching job since I was in college. To be handed that dream and have it yanked away hurts.

I don’t know why it happened. Of course, I’m obsessing over it. I want desperately for it to be something that I had no control over, something that wasn’t my fault. But I have OCD, so I’ve been blaming myself. It must be something about me — what, I haven’t a clue — but something that wasn’t good enough.

I stayed home from work today. Not because of this news. Steve’s cousin died, and he drove up to Nashville for the funeral. I was going to go, but we decided it wasn’t practical to haul the children up there when we have only a little money to get by on until payday. So he took the car. I can only think it was a relief I didn’t have to go to work. To face the people who all think I have this great job lined up after I leave this year. I can’t bear to tell them and hear the inevitable questions, the expressions of sympathy. I just want to crawl in bed with my children, Steve, and the various books laying around and stay there.

Panic made me send out about 10 résumés last night. I have had some response from about three of them. I have an interview scheduled with a small, private Jewish school. That makes me feel odd. I know more about Judaism that your average recovering Southern Baptist, but do I know enough for something like that? It might be a very good experience for me, should I get the job. But after the loss of the one I really wanted, I can’t get very excited yet. I guess that will take some time.

The county where I worked my first year teaching is looking for a teacher. It’s a rural county in Middle Georgia. The school, when I left it, was rife with gangs, disrespect, lack of discipline, and no access to materials. It was a mess. I know things have changed since then. Well, somewhat. They have a new principal. It’s too far away for me to really consider it. But I do consider it. I hated that job, but I tell myself I’m tougher now. I could do it now. And things are somewhat different there. Sending them my résumé will have to be a last resort. But I’m sure once they see themselves on it and remember me, I’d have that job back. I can’t let myself go there. I can’t let myself get that desperate with worry.

Worry. My comfortable old friend that I can wrap myself in to keep from living. My old enemy that has stolen all the happiness I could have had in my life and made me weak. It makes my brain numb through the sheer workout it gives those poor neurotransmitters. I have a picture of a person’s brain on OCD posted on my OCD page. (Still moving those files over to the PlanetHuff site). It looks like the frontal lobe is on fire. Is that why I get so many headaches, I wonder? My brain is burning with worry.


3 thoughts on “I Guess I Can Talk About It Now

  1. Hey Dana, would love to see what the brain of an OCD looks like. I have OCD..my middle name is "ruminate"..

    I hope something opens up for you soon…(so that you can look at this in hindsight and laugh) (yeah, I know..easy for me to say..yadda…yadda…yadda)

    glad you are writing tho…trying to finish up these last two papers….sigh…then pack for the Africa trip….

    I just want to get on the daggone plane already!

  2. oh Dana! I am so glad to see that! I told you my middle name was Ruminate…ha ha…

    and at one point my therapist told me to begin throwing away "10 things" a day…
    (didn't matter how little or big..just 10 things..)

    I need to begin doing it again…

    I cannot leave the house without going back…my kids know to leave the house before I do..(just so I can go back…)..

    so many other things…

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