An Observation of a Sort

I've been visiting a bunch of blogs this morning that are on my bookmarks list, but that I haven't been to in months. I took a break from everything for a while and it seems like a lot of other people are doing the same thing. There are an overwhelming number of my old reads that have decided to either quit or take a hiatus- for some it's coming up on 3-6 months already. I don't know if it's the uncertain economic times that have caused people to refocus their priorities, or if the medium of blogging has lost some of its lustre.

In my case I feel like I've lost my voice a bit. I've also been able to share a lot of the things I previously would have written about with my partner, Quiet Confidence. A little over a year ago we started seeing each other and I finally found someone so completely supportive and non-judgemental that I could open up to. I fully opened myself up to this man and gave myself over to the experience of being with someone who fully deserved my attention and love and who gives just as much as he receives. In the process I've found a measure of balance and harmony that I have never been able to achieve with drugs or therapy. He has become that cord of steel that I can cling to when I'm spiraling out of control. I am still an imperfect person and I still have my demons to fight. I still have my down days and weeks. I still rely on medication when things become too difficult to face on my own.

For the past year I've given myself over to the process of laying a foundation for a lasting relationship. I've neglected some educational pursuits, the blog, and a couple of high-maintenance friends while I straightened my head out a bit and refocused my priorities. I needed the time off to figure out what is important to me and how to proceed from here on in. Since my birthday I've been trying to take small steps towards putting my education back on track as well as my life/career aspirations. It can be overwhelming at times given the mountain of work I have to complete as well as proving myself after my monumental fall down with the Post-Traumatic Stress. It affected my work, my completion of courses and my outlook on how I viewed myself as a scholar. Lets just say I don't think very highly of myself as a competent academic at the best of times.

Since my birthday in May I have been operating under the maxim that a healthy body creates a healthy mind. To this end I've been making small changes towards achieving that, setting micro-goals to help me towards completing a much bigger goal: namely the degree. One of the small changes I have tried to implement this week is writing for 15 minutes a day, even if its just on my blog or in my journal. I want to make writing a daily habit for me in the hopes that it will help with my career- academics labour under the notion that it is a "publish or perish" world in the University system. I'm beginning to believe this. In order to publish you have to write; something I have been unable to do for almost a year. It is my hope that by writing for 15 minutes a day it will end up not only coming easier to me, but also stretch well past 15 minutes. To keep myself in the writing habit will benefit my papers and research in the future. Writing shouldn't be a chore if I'm going to make it my primary career.

Old Hurts

There are some memories of my past that never fail to bring tears to my eyes, regardless of how long ago the event in question happened. I seem to have a rich past of trauma that still stings even though some of these memories are from as long ago as when I was 4, 8 and 10. It seems almost strange to me that talking about these memories with someone will make me well up with instant tears. Very rarely can I talk or even think about these memories without tears.

Some of these painful memories seem to be the key to some sort of intrinsic part of my personality like my overwhelming abandonment issues that crop up occasionally, or my preoccupation with food and dislike bordering on anxiety about eating in front of strangers or in groups. I have wanted to write about my history of trauma for a while, but fear and anxiety has put a stopper on those stories and emotions. There are days when I can barely hold it together and I fear swimming into the deep end of these memories and problems. It was one thing to agonize over Mr. Intellectual and my sordid relationships as they related to my depression and its a whole other level when I start to unravel the rest of the trauma.

This is part of the reason why I've allowed the blog to languish into almost irrelevance in the last year or so. I had exorcised a big demon in my life and wasn't ready to move onto other mental exercises, but I think the time is right. I have a very supportive man in my life and I feel like I'm starting to get myself back on track for the degree. I'm happier and more content with things now than I have been in years. I still have my down days and weeks, but on the whole I feel like I'm on an upswing. Now to push past the fear and actually press "publish" on some of the more troubling things I've been sitting on.

Spring on the Farm

I've escaped the city for a few days. I decided to spend the weekend and my birthday out on the Farm. It's my favourite time of year here and I didn't want to miss the blooming cherry trees. There is nothing more beautiful than hundreds of trees in full bloom. Unfortunately it was an overcast day, so the pictures aren't as great as I had hoped they would be.

A Conversation Between Two Old Friends

"You're stronger than you think."

"You've said that before, but I remain as unconvinced now as I was then. "

I'm really not sure what my friend sees in me that I don't, but I know how I feel on the inside right now. I'm hurting again. In the last few days I've slid into a dangerous depression. I'm struggling to find purpose in my life. I want to reach out for help, but there is always something holding me back- I don't see myself as important enough for some reason, or I don't know what it is I need to help me. Right now I just feel emotionally, mentally and physically fragile.

Post-Exam Recap

My students wrote their final exam this week. The subject matter is Canadian history from pre-contact to the present era, so a survey course of the entirety of Canadian history. History can get complicated, long and involved. Sometimes it's hard to boil down an event or person into a short definitive answer.

The first section of our exam was comprised of Identification and Significance questions. This is pretty standard for History exams. You get a bunch of terms, pick out the required number and then describe in 3-5 lines (or more if you're taking the shotgun approach to answers or suffer from verbal diarrhea) what/who/when/where the term was/is and how/why it is important to the overall scope of Canadian history. Simple, right? Sometimes it's anything but.

Sometimes you get some amazingly bizarre answers and you just have to wonder how their brain functions and what lecture they attended or what textbook they were reading. I had a couple of answers like that this exam. My favourite is one I'll share. I don't know what the legalities of this are, but there are no names for the guilty party.

The ID question was the Quiet Revolution. For those of you who are not versed in Canadian history, the Quiet Revolution occurred between 1960-66 in Quebec. It was a time of rapid, but nonviolent change, whereby Quebec underwent drastic evolutions in its political, social, economic and cultural structures led by Liberal Premier Jean Lesage. The Roman Catholic church's influence rapidly waned and a growing number of Quebeckers became sovereigntists, which gave rise to the separatist movements.

This particular student however, has a very different interpretation of what the Quiet Revolution meant in Canadian History:

"The Quiet Revolution is a staple of Canada's pacifistic history. When the Canadian government is mad at another country instead of outlining the problems like educated government officials they will not speak to you. If you call they will breath heavily on the phone but not utter a word. In essence a quiet revolt."

I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

Exam Day

This afternoon my students write their final exam. It's a three hour exam that encompasses all of Canadian history from contact to the present, or at least the 1990's. While I have a sense of relief that it's all coming to an end once I finish marking later this week, I also have an impending sense of dread. It means that yet another school year is drawing to a close and I am no further along in my goal than I was last year at this time.

There's also this giant vacuum left in my week since most of my work and thoughts have been focused around my tutorial prep and other concerns related to my students. My work kind of gets scheduled in around their needs, or shunted off to the side for big marking stints or problems in the classroom. Now that this impediment is removed I have to find something else around which to organize my week. I'm thinking that some time in the gym is more than necessary since I've gotten quite lumpy this past winter.

There are some students that I'll be happy to say good-bye to since they were a pain in my ass from day one. However, there is also a small group of students that I will miss. They are the ones who brought a sense of humour to my classroom. The ones who taught me something about myself, or brought a fresh perspective to the material under examination- some angle that I had never considered before. The students who helped me refine my teaching skills and develop my teaching philosophy. They are the students that I worked for, that I crafted my material for and helped along where ever I could. They are the students that I won't forget and that I'll wish well in their future endeavours. They are the students that remind me why I chose to enter the Ph.D program with the hope of teaching in a University one day. The ones who remind me why I love what I do, particularly on those bleak and hopeless days.

A Love/Hate Relationship

I have a love/hate relationship with a website: Rate Your Students. Billed as "an oasis in the academic desert" (among other things), RYS is a place where academics from around the globe, but mainly it seems from the States, can post about their job in a frank and open manner. It started in reaction against the "Rate My Professors" website, where students can post anonymous comments and reviews of professors and their courses. Those in academia wanted a similar forum to unload on students, their jobs and the problems inherent in the system- and do they ever.

RYS looks beyond the Ivory Tower and gives a grittier, more realistic portrait of academia. At times it can be instructive and gives me hope, but the vast majority of it makes me depressed that I ever chose academia. It also makes me fearful of my future job prospects and ability to flourish in such an environment. Some days reading RYS can leave my stomach in knots of anxiety and ramp up those feelings of being unprepared, an abysmal failure and completely unsuited for graduate school, let alone teaching.

I only read RYS sparingly because of the negative reaction it gives me. I'll usually check in once or twice a month at most and read a bunch of pages in a row until I sicken myself and leave. Every once in a while I'll find something worth holding on to and remembering for later, which is what keeps me coming back. I know there are a lot of things wrong with post-secondary education, and I don't particularly see things changing in the near future. I think it would be healthier for me if I could just quit that site, but I keep getting drawn back in.