At any rate, our job is hard. So many times I feel that I am being pulled in 1,000 directions that at the end of the day I am not concerned about my own mental health but rather whatif I would have taught something a different way, would more students have done better on a particular assignment. My husband has been working with me to really incorporate "me" time. Even if that means watching an episode of whatever series we are working through on Netflix and just lounging for 43 minutes, or if it is going to the gym, I must remove myself from my thoughts that overflow my brain of "whatifs". I seem to be plagued by the same minions that plagued one of my favorite poets, Shel Silverstein:
some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
and pranced and partied all night long
and sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I'm dumb ins school?
Whatif they've closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there's poison in my cup?
Whatif I start
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don't grow talle?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won't bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems well, and then
the nighttime Whatifs strike again!