Thursday, December 8, 2011

The Day My Sister Thought I Had a Nervous Breakdown

No lie.
I stop by the hubs' shop on the way home from work, and, lo and behold, there's my brother with our sister in the car.  "SARAH!" she cries, "Our English teacher scared me to death! She said you were having a really rough day started crying in class, and I thought you'd finally lost it!"
"You mean I finally had that nervous breakdown you've been waiting for?"
"Yeah! Then I read your Facebook status . . . and I realized that, no, you were just emotional."
I couldn't tell if she was relieved or a little disappointment. I guess a nervous breakdown in the family would add a little pizzazz to this boring, totally not-stressful time of year.
Oh wait . . .

But, yeah, I totally lost it in second period.  Have you ever had those moments where you're reading something and, next thing you know, you have this moisture in your eyes and your throat gets all tight, and you're on the verge of bawling?  You know, suddenly, overwhelmed with emotion that came out of NOWHERE? One minute, we're drawing a picture of Screwtape's view of the inner-levels of a man's being, and then it happened . . . You know, you start talking, and your eyes start to feel funny. "Oh crud, ok, just take a deep breath and keep going. Pretend it isn't happening."
But then, "Oh CRAP. There's a tear. And another. Crap! Crap! Crap! Someone put up a dam, fast! OH CRUD!!! TOO LATE!!!" And cue the waterworks.

You know, I wouldn't have minded so much if my boss wasn't in the room.
Not even kidding.
This is what I get for trying to earnestly tell the kids that they aren't accidents, that every little piece of them, every little talent and quirk, is on purpose and DELIGHTFUL.  That they are beautiful and exactly as their Maker intended, and He is thrilled over them.
Dang it, I'm tearing up again. All day, people, all day.

Instead of inspired expressions, I had panicked looks--you know, the wide-eyed, mouth barely open, glancing from one to the other.  "Oh man, she's finally lost it. What do we do? WHAT DO WE DO?!" is the silent query.  For preteen kids, seeing a grown woman on the verge of bawling is almost as unsettling as a woman in labor. 
And if you don't think that's unsettling, you're either already a mom or you've never watched the Business of Being Born . . . or any film where life miraculously appears.
(PS BBB left me scarred.  No, seriously, I learned things about the female anatomy I never needed to know ... Great documentary, but I'm glad the hubs wasn't in the room).
One of the boys finally spoke up. "Are you ok?" he said like an EMT trying to wake up a concussion patient. "Are you sure you're ok???"

And then there was the whole minor detail that the principal was evaluating me.  Wonderful woman, love her, but golly, evaluations put the fear of God in me.

The good news was I didn't lose it in any of the following periods. We can close but pulled through. Really, the last few classes felt stellar . . . and, wouldn't you know, those weren't the classes evaluated.  Darn.

What's incredibly sweet is that so many people commented on my Facebook leaving such kind, encouraging words.  It makes me feel better about a day that I was afraid I had botched. 
Everything works out, eventually.

1 comment:

  1. I think it's pretty cool that you let all that emotion pour out of you considering the topic at hand but I sure understand how you felt a little weird. Crying in public is always weird. Glad it all turned out OK :)


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