I get to feel what I feel

I've been following the corona virus world stats pretty closely. When I think about all the people ill and dying, when I think about all the lost jobs, businesses, domestic abuse resulting, mental illness, people whose names I don't know but who are somebody's everything...

When I think of my friends who survived a terrible tornado and have watched their toddler fight for her life after a severe brain injury, with nowhere to live as their home was destroyed...

When I think of friends who have lost jobs, who have parents in hospice that they aren't even allowed to see and touch...

When I think of my seniors who no longer get to go to prom, are robbed of fair AP exams, IB exams (only graded on one tiny component- speaking), of graduation, of the last quarter of their senior year...

I just feel like I don't have a right to feel bad. I really felt fine. I mean sure, I am stressed out from having to reinvent how I teach, sorting through the resources and finding what is right for my kids. Learning new technology. Being patient, reaching out to the missing ones. But I was handling it.

I am home with my family. We are okay. We are pretty healthy. We have food. We have toilet paper lol.

Friday Jeff was furloughed, which means he is not working or being paid as of now. He applied for unemployment, which will pay about half his regular salary, in case you were wondering. I felt bad for Jeff, but have a deep trust that God will provide. He always has.

I had written off all my plans for April through the summer, I mean just matter-of-factly. Not being able to do some nice things is nothing compared to this pandemic. It would be selfish to even feel bad about it. I figured, it was time to make the call.

I cancelled our registration for the Grand Teton Half Marathon. I began cancelling activities and lodging for Spain and Italy. I remembered the joy and how it seemed meant to be, that my grandma gave me the funds to have this great adventure, to celebrate Jeff and my 25 year anniversary, just as my grandma was being reunited with my grandpa after he died 25 years ago. I blogged about this not long ago. I suddenly felt sad and a little overwhelmed. I brushed it off.

I went to school today to pick up the prizes I was going to mail my kids for Wooly Week.  I also figured I had better get my room in a better state since this is it. It was so weird. Everything in the school was exactly as we left it before Spring Break over 3 weeks ago. It reminded me of Pompei after Mt. Vesuvius just erupted and everything was frozen in the exact position it was in, indefinitely. Maybe that's a little dramatic, but that is how it felt. Just abandoned, left, in expectation of something that would never be. I felt overcome by sadness and disappointment.

I took this picture today. Empty halls, a banner from Teacher Appreciation Month (March)

I shook it off and cleaned, going through papers, organizing, throwing things away, putting things away. I fought the sick feeling I had in my stomach, my racing heart and thoughts until I couldn't anymore. I had to leave. It was a full on panic attack (anxiety attack? I'm no psychiatrist...) It was exactly like the ones I got after my father-in-law died.

If you've never had one before, it's hard to describe it. I've never been shaky and nervous or emotional; I just can't focus, feel sick to my stomach. My heart races, I need to get away from something. It seems very illogical to me, but there is some sort of trigger - a letter, a place, a memory, then my body decides to freak out and jumps the tracks. At least that's how it is for me (and the other people I've talked to who have had them).

I can't "reason" it away. I have to just experience it and get through it. They take a little while to wear off. I'm still in the middle of it, but it's less intense. I have good friends and family, most importantly I pray and am comforted beyond words. But the physical part just takes time.

I don't have a grand lesson to share, or maybe I do. Whether big or small, my disappointments, my struggles... logic doesn't take away the pain.

I get to feel what I feel. So do you.