When the feelings get big...

(Trigger Warning: I will be bringing up the incidents that occurred in schools this week involving weapons. If you are not in the headspace to read about these types of things, click on - no judgement here, my friends. There will also be discussion of general stressors and how they can impact mental health, even when we love what we are doing. Just check out if you don't think your brain juices will benefit from that. Much love. <3 ).

I don't know about the rest of you, but this past week has been an emotional smack down for me. Do we know what planets are in the microwave right now? I know Mercury just left, but dang, something else has been at it...

Let's start with this - if you've been here for a little bit, you know that I am not one of the resoundingly lucky and blessed authors who gets to do this full time. I have a day job as a music educator. And do not get it twisted, I LOVE my job. This is year 12 and as tiring and mentally trying as my job can be, I do not see myself leaving it any time soon... I'm also about 25 years away from retiring...

We are heading in to musical season, which is my absolute jam. I'm not one to brag, but I run a pretty great elementary musical program if I do say so myself. My kids learn so much, grow as performers every year, and we make a decent amount of funds to further build the program. Most importantly, my kiddos know I love them - and I do. When I tell families "Once my kiddo, always my kiddo," I mean that. And while it is magical to get to foster a love of music in so many kids and help them feel safe and loved in my classroom, it gets exhausting and mentally draining, especially for someone like me (hello my fellow late diagnosed ADHD-ers who are just figuring out how their brains and mental health actually work and connect!)

So there's one thing taking mental spoons every day.

Now let's add balancing mom life to that (any moms out there? You know how exhausting this never off the clock job is). My oldest is doing marching band, which has added a new element of schedule balance to our household. He is loving it, and we are super excited for him (especially me, a former marching band kid). The littlest is in kinder, learning to read and write; my husband and I try to split homework help... but he tends to do the most of it (because, going back to figuring out how my brain works, I apparently am highly triggered by homework. Any other burnt out gifted kids feel that way?)

Now let's throw in writing, editing, marketing, connecting in author communities, attempting to connect with potential readers via social media... yeah, just typing that sentence made me tense.

I started last week thinking, "Okay, I'm figuring this all out, the balance is coming, I can feel it."

And then the incident in Georgia happened. I (thankfully) did not know about it until later in the day; my schedule is so busy that I don't get the chance to check news and such between classes. But by the time I was home, it was all over my socials. Tiktok is my one true vice, and every other video was about what had happened. But, unlike school shootings in the past, I was hearing it from the people impacted first. It wasn't just the news media, it was first person perspective as students were evacuated. And seeing it broke something in me. It's not the first time I've cried over a school shooting, but this one hit me really different.

The thing is, there had been a weapon brought to my son's school the week before (two of them actually). Thankfully they were just air-soft pellet guns, but still... You would think that would be the thing that undid me, since my kid was in the building... but Tiktoks were the things that threw me over the edge.

The next day - Thursday- I had several classes of young (YOUNG) kiddos asking questions about intruder drills in my classroom. While I tried to not let it color the day, it was hard. You try keeping a positive attitude when a student looks you in the face and says, "But what if you can't stay safe? How can we be safe if someone hurts you?"

...

Yeah, that one hurt. There was no humor, no hint of "this is a pretend scenario"... my students were genuinely concerned for my safety and my ability to keep them safe and alive. And the fact that this is the world we live in sucks.

Friday was thankfully lighter mood wise - though that just shows me how desensitized we actually are to these things where I am...It happens so much, I feel like we can't sit in our feelings and process them from one before another happens. And another incident happened on Friday. Smaller, and in another area of the country, but the fact that it happened. That it KEEPS ON HAPPENING.

We got through Friday, made it home... and the Vellys announcement dropped early.

Another swing and a miss for my writing, but hey, what are you going to do?

But because of everything going on - the stress of my normal life, the heaviness from what happened and is still continuing to happen in the world around me, the emotions from all the little humans I teach, the concerns I have for my own two younglings and how I just want them to be able to be safe wherever they need to go on a given day - the let down of not placing made me into a puddle of goo on my couch, disassociating as I doom scrolled the internet.

The big feelings I had became a problem for those around me - I was snappish, I cried - and that's just not okay. I tell my big feelings kiddos (both at home and at work) that it's perfectly okay to feel the way you feel, but it's not cool to take it out on others and make your feelings their problem. While I can talk the talk, Friday I could not walk the walk, and I'm not proud of it.

So what do I do? How do I handle the crap sandwich of emotions when a pickle gets added to the top (granted, a small pickle, one that I knew was the likely result, but still).

I'm still trying to figure that out.

For now, I'm making a point to hug my own kiddos a bit tighter before sending them off to school. I'm thinking more actively about how I'm going to keep myself and my students safe if I need to. I'm taking a moment each day to breathe, to let myself feel some magic through the mud and muck of the mundane. And I'm writing. It might not be much, but by the gods, I'm writing. Some of it I'm using these big feelings to channel and push - the disappointment, the fear, the heart ache - developing my characters and stories, using what I'm feeling in the real work to mold them into better, stronger beings than I currently am.

I have to believe that this is going to work out... because if I don't... those big feelings are just too much to handle right now. I've got to believe that I can do this... not for anyone else, but for me.

If you stuck along to read this whole entry - thanks. I know my brain soup might not make sense to everyone, but having this space to get it out helps. And I hope you feel like it's a space where your brain soup can be heard too.