The struggle to remain connected to my personal life has finally reached a climax. My professional life has taken center stage; nursing teenagers back to life is more than a full-time job. Through all of this, I’ve seen my connectedness to my blog (which is, essentially, the core of my personal life) begin to disintegrate.
During the week, I check on these kids between teaching my classes. I make sure they are at school, evaluate their clothing (is it clean, are they wearing the same clothes as yesterday?), and make sure they have money in their lunch accounts. After the 8th hour bell, I have 45 minute therapy sessions. One after the next, my kids come to my classroom to tell me about the horrors of the night before. And then, I leave to make phone calls about food stamps, or to find a shower for their use, or to buy them Christmas presents.
The craziest part? This doesn’t stop after they graduate. One of my first-year students is pregnant. And, previous to finding out she was pregnant, she was partaking in heavy extracurricular activities. So when she found out she had been doing some damage for at least the first three months of her unborn baby’s life, she pretty much hit her lowest point.
I haven’t been able to find her, because her phone has been shut off for a while now…but I know where she works. Four nights this week I’ve made a trip out to the gas station to see if she was working…it’s 35 miles away.
Tonight was the first time I’ve seen her since September.
She looks healthy and clean. When I walked in, she ran around the counter and embraced me, thrilled to see a face that loved her. She’s having a boy. Her pants won’t button anymore. She’s using a rubber-band to keep them around her expanding waist. She’s happy.
I’m going to continue stopping in to see her. The best part? Administration can’t yell at me for it. She graduated. And when she was filling out senior superlatives, she said the biggest influence on her life at school was me… Suck on that pedophile-teachers and disconnected administration.
And through all of this, I’ve realized something that scares the fuck out of me…I don’t give a shit about dating right now.
The one person that I’d genuinely like to date isn’t interested in dating. And, truth be told, I don’t have the energy to put into beginning a new process with a new guy who doesn’t have a clue how I tick.
I’m a tough girl to handle. I know what I want, I know what I like, and my nonnegotiables are set. If you can’t take that, find the exit and quit wasting my time. It’s unfair of me to put someone in that position at the moment.
I have bigger problems to solve than whether or not I want to go on date #2 with Aqua Di Gio guy.
But what is haunting is how quickly I’ve gotten to this point and how comfortable I am here.
Am I only feeling this way because I’m scared to find real love?
Will I ever get to a point where I want to share my time with someone else…rephrase…someone else that wants to share their time with me?
Is there a single man in the world strong enough to handle the fact that my job is such a huge part of my life?
I don’t have the answers. I don’t even know if these questions are valid. One second I’m saying that I’m happy being single and the next I’m concerned that I’m only telling myself I’m happy.
Welcome to the mind of a 20-something workaholic female with grandiose dreams about how love should be given and received.
I’m not necessarily receiving much love right now, but I’m giving enough for a small army (or a small town, rural high school). I’m just going to have to be okay with that… and until I find that connectedness again, I’ll continue forward with what I’m doing now.