Approximate reading time: 9 min

 I have a whole post written that I was so
excited to put up today. But as life would have it, it hasn’t been a great
week, anxiety-wise, and frankly I would feel like the biggest hypocrite EVER
posting it now…..

So, I have made an executive decision to save
that for a sunnier time when I feel more in the spirit.

(Hopefully this weekend)

Before the summer holidays, I got approached by
one of my agents to do a two-day-a-week job in a Primary School in Northwood, up
until Christmas. At the time Northwood was an hour away from my house and I
very firmly declined because I don’t like travelling more than 45 minutes each
day. Considering part of my self-care is journalling and meditating for about
40 minutes every morning….I most certainly didn’t need to be waking up at the
crack of dawn to do this.

Especially since the other huge part of my self-care
is getting enough sleep.

The agent of course

(as most agents can be)

was quite persistent and me,

(being the people pleaser that I can
still sometimes be),

decided ‘What the hell! The trial day
is a paid day of work….go in, suss the school out and you never know!’

Well, I ended up having a really lovely day, the
kids were amazing and most of the staff were super friendly so I decided to
suck up the extra 15 minutes of travel twice a week and I said yes to the job.
It also felt good to have some permanence till the end of the year, as these
days, I feel like I am slightly drowning in my student loans.

Set, guaranteed work sounded very reassuring.

All was good.

And then I moved to the other side of London.

Yay!

My 1-hour 3-minute commute was suddenly
transformed into a 1-hour 18-minute commute (door to door)

which inevitably turns into a 1 hour 40 min commute,
during peak-time travel.

I hate it

I loathe it

I want to quit every single Monday and Tuesday
morning.

To make matters worse I am now living on the
Piccadilly line.

I have discovered I am not a fan of the
Piccadilly line.

(Not one little bit)

Most days I will wait up to 20 minutes just for
the stupid train going to Uxbridge to arrive.

When it eventually arrives, more often than not
it’s standing room only.

(Double Yay)

I feel like a sardine.

I cling to my handrail, squished up with
hundreds of other equally miserable-looking sardines, who I am pretty sure are all
thinking the same thing as me.

Why the fuck do I do this every day?

WHY AM I HERE????????

WHAT is the point of my whole entire life!!!!!!

 

(Or maybe it’s just me)

I then get off and wait for a bus that is always
late and so filled with school children you can hardly breathe. The 18-minute bus
journey turns into at least 40 minutes…if you are lucky.

I need to stress that I absolutely, fucking hate
the journey with every inch of my body and I really should quit this job.

And then I get to school.

And the kids are gorgeous.

Most of the staff are super friendly. (Give or
take one or two😊 )

I feel like a teacher.

I feel like a small part of a team again.

It feels good.

It feels nurturing.

And I promptly forget about all my travel woes.

Plus, there is the small fact that I made a
commitment to the school and I am pretty good at trying to honour my
commitments.

(Within the best of my ability)

******

Yesterday morning I had a science lesson planned,
with a year 3 class, and we were going to be dissecting flowers and labelling
the different parts. There were so many little things that I needed to prep and
get ready for the lesson. I left home at 6.30 am giving myself a good 2 hours to
get, there including random delay times.  

I arrived at Acton town relieved to see that the
Uxbridge train was only 12 minutes away.

(Hallelujah for small miracles!)

10 minutes later the notification magically
changed to the Uxbridge train being 17 minutes away.

(Who could I kill?)

33 minutes later I eventually climb on the train
and just about make it in time for the 7.45am bus I need to catch.

I wait

And wait

And wait

(While slowly being engulfed by teenagers.)

The bus eventually arrived at 8.10am and we once
again ‘sardine’ into the bus with all 20 people at the bus stop attempting to
get on.

I already know I am not going to make it to school
on time ….

(I’m quietly fuming)

At about 8.15am it feels like we have stopped
moving completely and when we do move the bus driver is continually stopping to
let frustrated people off the bus who keep ringing the bell.

Thats ILLEGAL!!

You are ONLY allowed to stop at bus stops!!!

STOP IT!

I want to scream

By the time it got to 8.45am all the kids were arriving
at my school and I was still stuck on a bus going nowhere fast.

As I climbed off the bus at 9am….

2.5 hours after
leaving home that morning…. I will admit I had a little mini meltdown.

(I haven’t had one of those in a while)

When I get dysregulated my chest aches, I forget
how to breathe and I can’t stop crying.

I hid in someone’s garden, behind a tree, so
that I could phone one of my oldest and dearest friends Michelle, who is
surprisingly good at reminding me to breathe.  I have got pretty good at grounding myself
these days when this starts happening….but the added time constraint meant
that in 5 minutes I would need to be standing in front of 30
eight-year-olds…..so I just didn’t have the fucking time to do the job ALL BY MYSELF!!

I needed reinforcement.

I can’t tell you how grateful I am that Michelle
works from home and is usually able to pick up the phone when this happens.

(It’s not often mind you)

My best friend Rachel is also really good at doing
breath-patrol…but unfortunately her work situation doesn’t always mean she can
pick up when I need her. 

(Rachel if you could just hurry up and become a full-time
artist my nervous system would be greatly appreciative!)

So I managed to calm myself, (or Michelle calmed
me? The lines are so blurred)  I crept
out of my not-so-secluded hiding place and walked to school desperately hoping
none of the kids parents would see me.

As I entered the school one of the teachers,
took one look at me, asked me if I was ok and the waterworks started all over
again.

Fuck I hate it.

It’s embarrassingly shame-inducing to be a grown
arse women who falls apart over something so trivial and insignificant as being
late.

The joke is, normally, I have no problem being
late.

Hell, one of the reasons I love supply teaching
is because schools appreciate that you often have to travel far and being late
is never frowned upon.

I am champion at being late and caring figs.

Until yesterday that is….

I don’t know if it was just all the frustrations
of the last couple of months just bubbling to the surface and needing to escape?
All I know is that these days I feel like a ‘snow globe’ that just won’t settle.
I’m crying a shit load. At the most inopportune times….mostly on the tube. (And
not just going to work)  The smallest
things will set me off. Its not even that I’m not happy in my new house…I’m
plenty happy. I really love my new flatmates. After working so hard to ween
myself off anti-anxiety medication two years ago…I am mortified to think I
might need to go back on them…

I just want the snow to settle….

Ok sorry going off on a tangent….

Where was I ….

The school was very sweet and I got given a
couple of minutes to pull myself together. I bumped into the headteacher on the
way to the class and informed her that I would not be able to continue doing
this job as the travel was just too frustrating. One look at my tear stained
face was evidence enough. She was very sweet and understanding and I agreed to
go and see her after school.

And then I walked in the class and 30 children
were all sitting as if the Dalai Lama himself had coached them. I was greeted
with a happy chorus of “Miss Hill” like I was some long-lost-bosom
buddy.

My heart melted.

We had a great lesson.

We dissected the shit out of a bunch of Lillies.

I had a really lovely day.

I went to speak to the head teacher after school
and she said I must just take the pressure off myself about getting here on
time….as they appreciate the distance I have to travel and they will make a plan if I am late.

I really appreciated her understanding. I know
that they struggled to find someone for the position so If I did leave now, it would
be very difficult for them.

I decided that I am prepared to try and suck it up! (Again!)

Technically it’s only 24 more days of nightmare travel.

I can do it!!!:-)

I can’t help thinking that maybe it’s good I had
a meltdown. Sometimes I feel like I live a double life. There is happy, calm centred
Gayle that can handle most things well.  She gets centre stage while I keep anxious
Gayle well hidden. Were it not for my close friends and my one-hundred-odd
subscribers,(yes the number is growing slowly;-) with whom she can be unleashed in relative safety I don’t know what she would do.

(The double espionage can be exhausting.)

It’s a bit of a relief that Anxious Gayle is now out of the school closet.

If the crying hasn’t stopped in a week then I
will take the drugs.

We do what we need to do!

Clearly, I am still a work in progress

Thanks for listening