Lunch call

I got a ring from a colleague from H.El(l) the other day, wondering, as it was Spring Break, would I like to meet her and another teacher for lunch. I happily agreed and looked forward to seeing them the next day.

But it's funny how things go. It was a nice lunch, and it was great to see them, but the first hitch came when I couldn't find a place for the kids to go, and ended up taking them with me. In retrospect, I realized that must have been intentional, in a subconscious attempt to forestall any talk of things I would find difficult.

It must have been so, for when I told them I wouldn't be back to H.El(l), I could feel the anxiety and discomfort tightening my throat. Hmmmm.....*she moves in mysterious ways*

So, next step is to start closing those doors, tidying up, officially letting go.

Oh, yeah--I can handle that.

Goooooooood MORNING SCHOOL DISTRICT ###!!!!

So, as part of the ongoing drama, my Salary Indemnity plan (which covers a part of my salary while I'm unable to work) has indicated that I should visit a Psychiatrist for a more formal assessment.

I have: biweekly GP appointments, biweekly counselling sessions and occasional check ups with the Rehab Worker. Now, I need a Psychiatric Work Up.

However....it was really interesting, and I was a bit surprised how much the Good Doctor was able to uncover in the hour we spent together. It turns out that she has treated a large number of teachers in the District, and it turns out that she has seen conditions like mine all too often. She told me a number of things about my situation, including the fact that not only was I suffering the early warning signs of burn-out, I was also in the throes of Post Traumatic Stress DIsorder.

Pardon ME? I know I wasn't in Viet Nam, and almost certainly would recall a Tour of Duty in Desert Storm...

But yes, she continued, that is exactly what my condition was--my treatment by the district, and in particular the Evil and Incompetent Chipmunk, was so grueling, it created an episode of PTSD, most likely by triggering some unresolved *issue* from my childhood that left me feeling powerless, worthless or stupid. Or all of the above.

She also said that a benchmark for me to know when I would be able to return to work would be when I could tell my story and talk about my experiences without tearing up, and when I felt some kind of excitement about the job again.

Gah.....I have a lot of work to do.

So I feel better, and worse. This black place in my soul was always present, but had I not been so viciously maltreated by my employer, it would have continued to lurk, waiting, to be drawn out.

Like attracts Like, I guess.

Now what? Stay tuned....