My Cover is Blown


Well, let me tell you what, it’s been quite a day.  Last night, I jogged 3 miles and I woke up rested and ready to tackle the day with my amazing sore muscles.  Then, I got to school and it all when to hell (mind my language).

Here is the story:  My aunt used to work at the school I work at.  Her husband was the principal here.  Her son saw a teacher here and told her mom (my mom’s sister).  Who then called this teacher and told her EVERYTHING she found out by calling my sister on Thursday.  So….my cover is blown…my worst fear has been found out.  Teachers here now know that I have depression and continue to go to therapy.  That I am still grieving and in a dark place.  I am SO upset about this.  My aide told me, “I didn’t know you were still going to therapy.  You hide it well.”  Gah, I need to get out of here.  I am so upset with my aunt.  I almost want to call her and tell her to mind her own business.  That if she was really worried about me, she would call me and talk to me personally…not a co-worker of mine.

You see, ever since my mother passed away 10 years ago (her sister), I have always felt that this aunt couldn’t look at me, or even speak to me without getting sad and thinking about how I am an orphan that “needs to be taken care of.”  Or seeing my mother in me and getting sad that she has passed on.  I have learned to live my life, and managed to live my life for 10 years without help from her.  Why would I need help from her now?

I just can’t deal with this anymore.  I want to run away and never come back.  Oh gah…..Lord, please let me get into a Ph.D program and allow me to move away from all of this in May.

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7 thoughts on “My Cover is Blown

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  1. Imagine you’re teflom, let it roll right off you… Truth is, everyone has issues. Even my therapist has issues, he said so himself. But not everyone works at fixing them. Hold your head high and be proud of the work you do, and of the kids you reach out to, they are all that matter! Sending you love… xoxo

  2. If anyone gives you a hard time I would stand up straight, throw my chest out and say, “I’m grieving because my parents died. I want to heal, so I am seeking help.” There is no shame in being medicated, or being in therapy. The shame is in knowing you have a problem and NOT getting help. Knowing you need help and seeking it makes you strong. Don’t hide in shame, be proud. You are doing what you need to do to get better. Maybe they’re jealous because they’re not strong enough to get help. Screw them, I’m proud of you! “A lion does not lose sleep over the opinions of sheep”. Let your #medicatedandmighty flag wave, girl. You’re brave, strong and more awesome than they will ever be. We have your back!

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