Sleep deprived & Murky

As I sit here, attempting to thaw out, I realize that I am completely exhausted. I am tired of dealing with a mind that never, ever shuts off. I have trouble going to sleep at night, because my brain is in overdrive. Last night I could barely stay awake – I finally went to bed, and felt no inspiration to sleep. Finally somewhere around 4:30 I willed myself to sleep – only to wake up a couple hours later thanks to a nightmare. Sleep deprivation is giving me bad dreams that I wake up from, even more tired than when I went to bed

I’ve spent the past couple of days at Lakehead, working at the Education Fair. Recruiting teachers to go to London. I’ll admit that I have kind of enjoyed it – I think I would rather talk and recruit than actually teach. It’s nice to be able to talk to teachers who still have an idealized perspective of teaching, are clueless as to the behaviour management issues in London, and are generally naïve. It is kind of refreshing – I never had that over-exuberant teaching stage, because I had already been working in school for so long. I already knew some of the realities that a lot of NQT’s are not aware of. In some ways it was good, and in other ways it has been detrimental to my wanting to remain in teaching.

It has been two years since I was in the Faculty of Ed. and there now seems to be a better understanding about the state of education. Two years ago, we all had great plans of being hired by school boards in Ontario (and Faculties of Education will give you the impression that there are plenty of jobs out there – in space). These new teachers seem to know that teaching jobs are few and far between. I kind of joked about it at the fair yesterday; I would tell potential candidates “The great thing about a teaching degree, is that you can work anywhere in the world – except for Ontario.”

I miss Café Nero’s hot chocolate. I’m drinking Starbucks right now, and it’s not the same. That has nothing to do with anything…

Honestly I have a bucket of complaints at the moment, an things that I could go on about, but I really don’t have it in me right now.

The state of employment in Thunder Bay is becoming increasingly bad. No surprises there. I have lost the majority of my motivation regarding my thesis. Also not a huge surprise. I guess I’m feeling a little bit disillusioned with education – not teaching, but education in general. Other than teaching, I’m not sure that I have any employable skills. I had been considering grad school, but it seems like a huge commitment that doesn’t necessarily guarantee a job. I’d like a job.

Ok, I’m beating a dead horse that the moment. If you don’t mind, I need to retreat back into my murky head.

London ((STILL)) WIDE Awake :(

Do you remember that time in your life, where you thought to yourself that you wanted to be an adult? It was likely when you were around 15 years old and tired of adults not taking you seriously. You knew everything at that point – far more than the adults surrounding you. They seemed to have it so easy – blah, what are bills, anyway? It just can’t be that bad.
You got a little older, hit the cusp of 18 – a legal adult. That was the beginning of life. You would be taken seriously. In Ontario, where the legal drinking age is 19 – well…that’s the true mark of adulthood. Suddenly it was ok to get wasted on Friday night, spend Saturday morning tossing your guts into a toilet (if you made it), spend Saturday afternoon eating the greasiest cr*p you could get your hands on…recover…sleep…repeat. Maybe you went to college or university – class, sleep, drink, etc…class, sleep, drink…puke…repeat. You were an adult though. Those were the days.
At 18 I worked my butt off to try and fail my university classes – if I failed there were fewer expectations on me. I changed plans eventually. At 19, I decided it would be a good time to start enjoying the *periodic* alcoholic beverage. I can admit – I only went to class drunk once J - definitely made the Anthropology of Sex a little bit more interesting. I vomited in backyards, out of car windows, across parking lots…never made it to a toilet though. Good times.
Twenty hit, and so did my rebellion – let’s move to New Orleans. More puking…professions of undying love – a couple tattoos. More good times, memories – oh life was good. Oddly enough, I think I was more grounded then, than I am now. Life was good in the Big Easy- Jazz Fest, Lundi Gras with a Mardi Gras recovery.
By 23 my undying love was over (good choice), I had backpacked part of Europe with my friends (mmmm...more vomit, Spanish Sangria, Amsterdam, beer, sightseeing); loved the life, changed careers a couple of times. Shortly thereafter was a longer trip to Europe. Leanne could travel to escape.

Here I am at 28 and further behind than I was then. I have been lucky, and I know that. I’ve lived the life that some people dream but I’m absolutely clueless. I’m not naïve, though I can effectively come across that way. I’m starting to realize that part of the reason that I can’t sleep in London, is because there is a lull. Huh? Between turning off the lights and falling asleep there is a lull – during that lull I start to think. I have always had this problem. I used to have to keep the television on all night to help stop thinking. Unfortunately when you train yourself to sleep through t.v., you can train yourself to sleep through an alarm (which I really can’t afford to do). Needless to say I went through about a year of having to leave the t.v. on, so that I had something else to focus on at night.

My problem with thinking at night is that all of the self doubt arises. The realizations that I don’t know what I’m doing, or that I’m making huge mistakes. It is past midnight at the moment, and I don’t want to sleep because I don’t want to think. I keep remembering that I am an adult now, and it sucks. I joke about this with a friend of mine – “being an adult was supposed to be easy.” HA HA HA. Ultimately though, when you decide to change your life, you need to come to terms with the life you were trying to stop thinking about. Recently I have made some mistakes that are causing me to remember. I want to sleep so badly, but I just can’t. How did I get here? Moving to London wasn’t supposed to reiterate my own cluelessness. Maybe this is how people find religion?

London (WIDE) Awake

Transitioning from a small community in Northern Ontario, to large metropolitan megalopolis (is that the correct term?) is a challenge. I was told that the first six weeks would be the hardest. I'm only at the two week mark and it is insanely difficult. I don't know if the 6 week time period is for a couple, or for an individual - maybe it is 12 weeks for an individual. All I know is that my nerves are fried. The traffic is unbelievable and the noise is overwhelming - I don't know where people can think here - they certainly can't go to the Thames Walk or Hyde Park or what have you - there is traffic surrounding both places. Maybe they have just adapted...

Leanne doesn't know if she can adapt in London. I have found that if I stay awake for 2 nights, usually on the 3rd I can actually get some sleep. Unfortunately, this method poses somewhat problematic in terms of energy. I have also found that I can sleep between the hours of 8:30am and 10:30am...this is problematic for work. I don't entirely understand why I sleep better during daylight hours. In actuality the noise is far greater, but for some reason I can block it out. I have tried a sundry of methods to help myself sleep. These methods are generally related to tiring myself out - brisk powerwalks, not eating, crying (you know, emotional upheavel is usually exhausting). But no. I don't sleep. For the record, while I used to drink execessive quantities of coffee and tea, I've basically stopped.

While in Sheffield I made the mistake of drinking coffee at midnight. I have never had such a negative impact from caffiene - at 4am I was still wide awake. Luckily I did fall asleep by 6am, only to wake up at 8am still on a caffinated rush. Needless to say I spent the rest of the day fairly groggy, pursuing the next the next coffee-rush. Do you think that ment that I needed to go to bed early??? No. not at all. Still wide awake.

London isn't only impacting my sleep patterns. I may have already mentioned that London is creating a fair amount of stress in my life. My body's response?? Hives. I am excessively allergic to my London stress. Last week I was prescribed medication, which was successful for a short time. As soon as I returned to London from Sheffield, so did the hives. What's a girl to do?? And therein lies the true question - what do I do? By this point in Banbury I was headed home. This time I am struggling to stay - but without work, and nearly out of money, what exactly am I suppoesd to do? Will it get better?? I just don't know.