I have finally nutted up as it concerns language instruction and enlisted the assistance of the language professor that takes every mistake as an opportunity for a teaching point and with whom I have the best chance of getting there from here. I think it hurt my professor's feelings and that grieves me on some level but I did tell her six months ago that I was concerned about the approach to language and how incompatible it was for my learning style. She dismissed my concerns and well here we are. I don't know how it was handled and I probably won't be richer for knowing but I do hope it was handled professionally and compassionately. I don't want to have to be angry at her in order to not feel guilty so I'm trying on indifference with a dash of self-preservation. As she would say, this is how it is.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Depresia de primavara
My language instructors insist there is a thing called spring depression; one even took vitamins for it every year when they lived in Eastern Europe. It has been one of those months that felt like a year. I was so very low for days that I actually cried in my bed and hurt physically in a way I haven't since I thought I loved a guy who totally dissed me. The ground is still wet but the violent storm has passed I think. It's weird/troubling/curious to think this time last week God and I were in advanced discussions regarding my suicide matrix and I was earnestly straw-manning exit strategies. It's a very strange thing to be mentally besieged on all sides and then be sort of okay. It was a violent and troubling squall, but apparently just a squall. Huh.
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omg. You've captured "the squall" perfectly. Perfectly. I've been m.i.a., or what feels like it, from my own life for the past month or so. Doing only what was necessary to get by, so to speak. At least you have the presence of mind to still attempt to work through it - to even get it down in words is remarkable to me. (I'm sorry I haven't been much of a friend . . . is it AWOL that they call it? I admit, there are times that I suck. To know me is to love me. ugh. There's that guilt that you were talking about in a more recent post ... and bit of self loathing for good measure.)
So I'm trying to catch up on your posts, but I'm working backwards -- I know... this could be part of my problem. (I always have to do shit the hard way - so my mom says - although, not in those exact words.) So you have a new language instructor? Good for you. Your kindness shines through - that you hope your old instructor isn't "stinging" from the "break up". (Hoping it was handled professionally and compassionately.) It wasn't without a bit of agony on your own part to even be able to make the change - so you really should not beat yourself up at all. (( hugs ))
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