My drug of choice, work, is one that brings me praise and pats on the back that I am unable to give to myself in any meaningful way.
My drug of choice, work, is one that brings me praise and pats on the back that I am unable to give to myself in any meaningful way.
When the choice you have to make is between not showing up in the way your professional conduct tells you to and not showing up the way you need yourself to be to stay sane, and when you have been taught from early childhood that you should never consider yourself above duty … what is the path to take to be healthy?
How is it that we are invited do the most important job in the world with no guidance whatsoever? After all, you have to take an examination when you drive a car … a motorcycle even … how about when deciding to raise a human being?
Asking for what I want, whether it is from my work teams, life partner, my original family, my friends or my son is so very hard. I would even say that the pain I derive from implying wants and having the others not get what I actually mean is easier to bear. Not fair on any of parties involved, but much, much easier to swallow.
This week, close to commemorating two years of a pandemic that has changed our lives forever, I am reminded that I am in fact … a service.
If I had a broken leg, pink eye, COVID, the flu, a migraine … you name it … I would have said just that and not spend one second trying to concoct a plausible disguise. But somehow, there has been so much shame around me just saying I am am having a bout of anxiety and/or depression and need a mental health break, I cannot meet right now.
Partnering with students, families and schools towards effective cultural transition
Perspectives on International Education, Personal Memoirs and Reflections, and Essays
Reality Courage Ideas
Reality Courage Ideas
Reality Courage Ideas
Reality Courage Ideas
Reality Courage Ideas
Reality Courage Ideas