Given today’s prompt about habits that bring you joy, here’s another one that I thought of. I really enjoy scrolling through the pictures on my phone. I take a lot of pictures and screenshots of things that I like, or speak to me in some way. I have pictures on my phone going back to…
Given today’s prompt about habits that bring you joy, here’s another one that I thought of. I really enjoy scrolling through the pictures on my phone. I take a lot of pictures and screenshots of things that I like, or speak to me in some way. I have pictures on my phone going back to March 2020. It only goes that far back because at one point before that, I uploaded all of my pictures, or at least the ones I wanted to save, to Shutterfly and had an actual photo book made. Then I deleted the pictures off my phone.
I haven’t done that with this recent batch of pictures. I have found that I like scrolling through them and reminiscing over old memories. The good and the bad. I stayed up kind of late last night doing exactly that. In particular, I was looking at the last year of pictures. Today is August 3rd, and on August 15th, it will be the one-year anniversary of me working at my new job. Really not new anymore. This past year has seriously gone by fast! I have learned that the older I get the more time flies. However, this past year has moved a lot faster than any previous year. Maybe it’s because of how happy I’ve been. Everything since last August has been a new experience. Not working as an educator and having a back-to-school experience last fall. Not dreading the end of the holidays because I would have to go back to work. Having a job that took away the Sunday Scaries. Working a busy schedule over the summer. Everything is different. I’m different. I’ve written extensively about just how different I am. When I was looking at pictures from this past year, I got the idea to go back two years with my picture scrolling. I had noticed that the quotes I was screenshotting this past year had a different theme and tone than the ones I snapped the year before when I was trying to survive my year as a principal.
I picked a handful of pictures from my year as a principal and my year after quitting. I’m sharing them here so you can share the journey with me. It’s also a testament to social media. I posted many of these photographs on Facebook that year. When people found out later how terrible that year was and why I really quit, they often said they had no idea and that I hid it well. I had to. I had a very front-facing job. Nobody could know what I was really enduring. Now though, looking back, there were signs. I see it in my eyes in every picture from that year. I’ve included brief descriptions in the captions to help narrate the journey.
My first day in my new role as “acting administrator”. I couldn’t legally be called an interim principal since I didn’t yet have my masters degree. Taken on the day that the teachers and staff of my school drove together to the annual Mass for Catholic school employees that kicked off the school year. This was the weekend that my sister’s family stopped by to visit on their way to the beach. I remember having extreme anxiety that weekend because there were already things happening at school that I was unsure about and at the time of this picture, I was waiting to hear from my “mentor” about how to handle the situations. I started reading this book because I had no idea how to calm my mind about all the things that were stressing me out. I read it through that whole year. This screenshot speaks for itself about what was occupying my mind at the time. I did a lot of praying that year. Taken on the last day of the annual principals’ retreat that the diocese hosted every year. Once again, there was a lot of anxiety during this retreat because when I arrived at the beach on the first night, I was already dealing with a very stressful situation that happened at school that day. My “mentor” talked me through it once I arrived at the hotel. But emails I received from the parent throughout the retreat kept my anxiety high. The day I returned to work after this trip saw a group of parents gathered in my office to basically berate me for how I handled the situation. There was so much to do that year. SO much! I don’t have ADHD but this resonated with me. At my school’s fall festival where I dressed as a cat lady. My “mentor” found several opportunities that evening to criticize me for different things I did and didn’t do during the event. This was a moment of levity that year. Meeting Peter Billingsley, aka Ralphie from a “A Christmas Story” and presenting him with a crocheted version of his character. The stress and anxiety was continuing to build. Screenshots like this began to fill my camera roll. I had a boss. I was trying to be a leader. This applies to administrators too. During Christmas break I attempted to return to running. This was taken at the end of a run through my neighborhood. At the Mt. Olive Pickle Drop on New Year’s Eve. Another happy memory. Though I was dreading the return to school. A random selfie in my office. I think it was because of the sweater I was wearing that my mother-in-law had made. That was the first time I ever wore it. I remember the reason for this picture being that I was having a good hair day. It was a Friday afternoon. Look at my eyes. Ash Wednesday. The Mass gave me anxiety because my “mentor” was there and watching me and telling me how to coordinate the kids and the adults that were there for both the line for ashes and the Communion line. The start of me taking Mounjaro. This was sometime in February when I complained to my “mentor” of having pain in my chest. She told me to “push through it. Principals don’t get to take a day off because they don’t feel well.” Later that week, my doctor confirmed that the chest pain was because of my blood pressure and blood sugar being so high. For perspective, my a1C was over 9. Both were so high because of the extreme stress and anxiety. New oral medication was also prescribed. This was just what I took every night. My morning medication was just as numerous. When my husband and I went to see a presentation by my favorite local meteorologist. I had been a fan of this guy since middle school. You’d think I would have looked happier. I took this picture over spring break. I had just bought that T-shirt. I posted this on Facebook. But what people couldn’t have known is that just a few days before this picture, my “mentor” had called me and assaulted me for 20 minutes about how “ungrateful” I was for her. Read my post “Independence Day”. It explains it. This was truly the worst spring break I had ever had.Coincidentally, these were the socks my sister-in-law put in my Easter basket that year. She didn’t know what I was going through, but she knew I was a principal. Still very appropriate. I do believe I wore them to school one day. My screenshots went from managing stress and anxiety and surviving to things like this. Encouraging me to not put so much stock in what other people think. Particularly my “mentor”. I had begun to check out at this point. Still coping. Trying to encourage myself because my “mentor” sure wasn’t. I had already pretty much decided at this point that I wasn’t meant to be a principal and I wasn’t wanting to be a teacher again either. The beginning of the end. My mindset was beginning to shift. Taken before my last grad school class. I still believe this. No caption needed. After I turned in my last grad school assignment. I was tempted to order one for my husband. He was the true hero of this story. He supported me every step of the way. Every step, no matter how little or big. A postcard I received from a friend in my online knitting group. They all knew what I had been going through. They and my husband were the only ones (plus a work friend). I really had a lot of trust in God at that point. I could see how He had made things happen the way they did. His plan got me out of there because He knew it was time for me to leave. The director of my masters program thanked me for coming to graduation. He knew I had quit my job. But I also knew that I wanted to celebrate the fact that I nearly killed myself earning that degree and I had somehow survived and I was damn sure I wanted to be there to celebrate with my cohort.The bottle of wine included in my good-bye gift from the superintendent. I found it hilariously ironic because they obviously wanted me to drink it. But had I posted a picture of me drinking it on Facebook, I could have been fired. I threw it away and all that came with it. Beginning my healing journey. The beginning of my pettiness. My “mentor” had forever proclaimed that she hated cats and thought they were disgusting. Naturally I had to use this particular card to thank her for the graduation gift she had gotten me. Freedom from grad school meant free time to read. These were the first post-grad school books I read. I started running again. I had made it three miles that morning. I even ran a 5k. It was sponsored by my “mentor’s” sorority. Taken on my last day of work at that school. I thought it appropriate to wear this shirt given that I was “saying when” with my job. I had enough. I was out. I posted this on Facebook. The first time I told people not in the know that I had quit my job. I was still very vague about the reason I left. I can already see a difference in my eyes. And this started my summer of freedom and trusting God to lead me to my next job. And to also trust His timing. Getting hired somewhere else took a long time. But I forced myself to relax and enjoy the time off. To say it was needed is an understatement.
Middle-aged Maverick is indeed middle-aged and she’s proud of it. She has a tendency to over think and over analyze many of the things she encounters in her life, as evidenced in many of her posts. She knows how to drive a stick-shift car, prefers Coke over Pepsi, and spent many of her adolescent years being obsessed with Jim Carrey.
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