My friends are heading back to their first day with kids at school today. I’m sitting at Paul Wakeling Hyundai whilst my car receives its 15000 km service, capped at $249. I live Facebooked my Year 12 class this morning and replied to a message from the bestie, heading to school without her Sister of Destruction meeting her there.
This is the first time in 24 years that I have not had somewhere school-related to be on the first day with kids (in 2010 I was in Europe but was heading back to work soon).
It’s a very weird feeling.
I spent my holidays catching up with people. For this introvert, every day activities resulted in two two-day migraines, the only times I stopped before heading to Tasmania on a cruise ship last Monday.
And, Tasmania marked the end of anxiety about money for the upcoming year as I remembered the benefits and beauty of travel. Hobart is beautiful. What I saw of Tasmania is beautiful. The freedom to explore, also beautiful.
Having faith that you are where you are supposed to be, doing what you are doing, and will survive it all is hard when you just don’t know. I have taken certainty out of my life for this year, until the first week of December when I return to work. However, booking in tutoring for people settled those doubts yesterday and when I start casual teaching, I’m sure I will feel even better.
I am carrying anger and resentment about the investigation last year. And whilst I want the tags liar and self-serving removed from the documents, I am not sure it will be healthy for me psychologically to continue the fight to have those words redacted. I know that I didn’t lie, and anyone that has interacted with me in the world of public education throughout the last twenty four years knows that I am far from self-serving.
So, does it really matter if a couple of investigators, neither the person who made the final resolution, which speaks against both words, wrote that about me? People who have never been in the context that I was, or worked as closely with kids as I have, or understand the broader impact my work has made on so many people’s lives?
I don’t know. That’s the question I am asking now.
Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe to heal I need to let go of it all, burn the file, and just keep moving forward. Maybe by fighting it, I open a hornet’s nest, and create more trouble for myself.
Am I strong enough to withstand that pressure again.
I rolled down a hill in Tasmania. Liberation. The hill was green. Small hill. But, called me to roll. And I could not ignore the call. I rolled the anxiety away lol. I’ll post it, because it’s funny, and I love that I embraced my inner child even though I look like a teletubbie trying to get up at the end. I was dizzy – my defense and I’m standing by it lol.