Courtesy of the well-informed, Yahoo Answers:
“Everyday consisted of eating, going to lectures, having group meetings, having individual counseling sessions, doing writing… going to more meetings, having more groups, etc.” Sound familiar?
Seems like I’m not on a roller coaster ride after all. I’m in rehab.
It didn’t take any intervention to get me here. It was difficult, but I arrived on my own power. I was hoping that the program would cease my bad habits, repair the damages, and supply strategies to avoid what got me here in the first place. Though I haven’t made it through all twelve steps, I’ve made good progress.
Last week’s withdrawal was the worst. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to check myself out. The cold sweats, anxiety, insomnia, and violent mood swings (sorry, Hon…) have now lessened and I have a better appreciation of what literate life can be like: full of blogging, Twitter, Yelp, Prezi, iMovie, and so much more. They’ve even provided a structure for me to read and write here! The counselors are extremely knowledgeable, generous, and supportive; and connecting with others going through their own issues is invaluable.
I continue to be thankful for this opportunity. I will be better because of it. My students will be better because of it. I am, however, worried about a relapse. I suppose it is normal (to worry… and, for some, to relapse). I guess I could look into All Addicts Anonymous, but something tells me they might not understand my addiction to habits that prevent me from reading and writing. Any ideas?
Remembering June 24, 2010
I never imagined how much I would appreciate growing up in the country. Wooded ravines surrounding the house offered countless hours of exploring. Wildflowers throughout supplied scores of bouquets. The creek provided a weekend pastime of tubing and an occasional campsite. Settling inside was never an option. Who would want to?
Grandma and Grandpa lived next to us. We shared the same driveway. Over their breakfast nook, where the garage and house roofs met, was a deck. No one sat on it much. It was quite small, and I suppose the tar made it hot in the summer. It did, however, provide a perfect place to sleep. It was up high– safe from the coons, snakes and the boogeyman. Grandma hauled up two lounge chairs, the old fashion kind– spring bottoms with 4″ cushions. The head was adjustable and they had arm rests; otherwise, they remind me of roll-away beds today.
There were two occasions for sleeping out on Grandma and Grandpa’s deck: when it was simply too hot to sleep inside and when the nip in the air was just right for a quilt– cold enough that your nose was the only part that knew. The weight of the quilt hugged me as I lay in the dark. The dark. Back then, Lafayette was far enough and small enough that it got really dark in the country. Grandma and I would lay there and look for familiar constellations. We’d gaze for steady planet glow amidst the flickering stars. If we were lucky, we could see the hint of white the milky way spilt above us. When I stared long and hard, I would question whether I witnessed a shooting star or whether it was just my eyes adjusting to a blink.
I wish I could recall our conversations. I’m sure we had some good ones. But it wasn’t silence I remember from those rooftop sleepovers either. It was lying there. Listening. Listening for anything. Sometimes the tree frogs were deafening and nothing else could be heard. Other times, the crickets took over. Rustling leaves provided the perfect amount of white noise to lull me to sleep fairly quick. But it was the snap of twigs, call of the hoot owl, or the howl of a distant coyote that would heighten my awareness that I was in their home.
(Thanks, Elizabeth, for encouraging us to tell our life stories. As my memories fade, this is one that won’t be lost now that it is written down.)
My First iMovie Project June 20, 2010
When asked to produce a video on a colleague’s literacy history, I was fortunate to get a superb subject! It was very fun taking this small piece of Bridgey’s history and putting it to life. Goal for next time: a script that will keep me within my time limit and using images with higher video resolution.
Who am I? I am (a)… June 19, 2010
What a Ride! June 18, 2010
As the first week of the UIWP returns to the gate, I can certainly share that it has been years since I last rode a roller coaster. They scare me to death! I waited at the loading platform for my turn with great anticipation and significant apprehension. Once I got on, I was ‘forced’ to sign up to Twitter– an institution I have purposely avoided. Add onto that, the task of blogging… actually writing something out there for others/anyone to read. I survived those bunny hills, none the less. I didn’t reach the point of panic until the video interview was assigned on Wednesday. That hill involved too big of a drop for me. At that point, I questioned if I was going to jump out of the car (seriously considering the risks) or muster up the courage to stay on.
I’m glad I didn’t jump. The project, in the end, was my favorite activity of the week. I anticipate I’ll have many similar revelations over the next three.
I found another highlight was discovering how quickly I came up with things that I HAD to write about… not what I wanted to procrastinate over or make multiple lists about. Dare I say that these are things that I am aching to write? My list of things to do is growing each day, though my will to want to share any of my writing is still null. I’m at a: this-isn’t-anything-anyone-else-is-going-to-want-to-hear/they-aren’t-my-intended-audience place, so why do I have to bother them with it? Time will tell if I’m able to make it up that hill.
Summing the week up: I LOVE my new friends, like to write, and am very excited about all of the new learning. I would never suggest that you take me on another coaster with a major drop. My heart can’t take it! But maybe if I ride some of the milder ones, it would help me get over my fears.