I’ve had a bad few days.
But I feel low.
I still am embittered – so much so that some random person on LinkedIn labelled me “rabid” – first time that adjective has been applied to me.
It’s been a week of forgetting where keys, wallets, coats etc are: when normally I’m on top of mundane frivolities like finding keys.
I think it’s partly the time of year and partly uncertainty about the future, but mainly about my script, my toxic files that won’t be neutralised and keep resurfacing.
I’d liken my worries to a scab on my knee, a scar, that is practically healed, but one that I can’t help touching and peeling until the scab opens and bleeds.
I’m still bitter about education and what it did to me; I should be better now; I should be over it; but December and January always seems the worst to me.
Whether it’s that wind down to Christmas and staff socials I miss – or the expectation of spring arriving in January, I don’t know; but I get down most Decembers.
Perhaps it’s the light levels, SAD, but in Norfolk, we have sunshine daily, I walk the dog every day and have no light deprivation whatsoever.
I took a phone call tonight from Richard Crisp, who was gushing about the guest submission and, being emotionally intelligent, he sensed I was low and asked why.
I told him how I still feel bitter about what happened to me in Norfolk schools – but his advice was spot on, “You’re allowed sad days and you will have them, but stop allowing that script from the past to dominate your feelings now.”
He’s right of course – when I read guest submissions like today’s, I feel humbled that someone is prepared to talk openly about a hellish period in their life – he’s working on changing those files, Richard has changed his with the help of Richard Wilkins and I think now I need to focus on forgetting that past, working on a better future and leaving that scab to heal and disappear.