Hey, it's me again after a month and a half-long hiatus from writing. The thing is, I don't have any interesting alibi for the hiatus except for the usual which was focusing on work and trying to stay sane while doing it. I have been on house arrest for majority of the month of June, after being contact traced as a 1st gen Person Under Monitoring (PUM), TWICE. I had to be creative during my house arrest to not give in to the complications of cabin fever. Being stuck in the house all the time with little sunlight surrounded by reminders of all my personal inadequacies, triggers, and little disappointments like the piling amount of laundry, answer sheets I have yet to check, and the continuous dinging of group chats at work that I have yet or probably will never get to read.
I can't recall the many times I had a panic attack this month especially during grading period. Grading period was an emotional roller coaster of death.
My role as a statistician, while it has a lot of perks, at that time was not the same as other teachers who could retrieve the answer sheets regularly every week. In my case, my students' outputs would only be ready for checking by the time the semester has ended, because that's the deadline for everyone's research paper, wherein every one of my students turn theirs in.
Of course, this situation is doable when statisticians like myself are given ample time to check everyone's work after the last retrieval day-- the day when I should be receiving all the outputs I need to base all the grades on. BUT imagine my frustration and the betrayal when the set deadline of all the grades would be (gasp) less than five days away from the said retrieval day.
How does that translate? Let's do the math, shall we:
Three hundred and fifty papers to be checked. It would be a lot easer if the answer sheets were only worth a page each but that wasn't the case.
This picture and all the memes in it probably sums up what went on behind that whole circus of a week:
The experience was surreal, like being punished not only for my past but future transgressions..
There were times I felt like starting a revolution with the other teachers, and just imagine how it would go:
So there I was... lashing out every now and then at home, much to the dismay and annoyance of my grandmother and brothers who had to deal with my instability for the next five days or so. It was partly because I was in denial of all the chaos visible around me-- all the answer sheets found anywhere in the house and in my room, both of which already lacking in tidiness (which I also feel accountable and responsible for)-- and inside me-- the fact that I wasn't happy with what I was doing and punishing myself for being "ungrateful" and "entitled" at the same time. I was clearly very aware that I was turning into someone I didn't like, and I felt like I had no control about anything, including my reactions.
I know I haven't developed any fondness for my job (and believe me when I say I did try to like it). I knew I should be thankful for this, because in spite of all the problems I could have been facing, I still have a source of income during this difficult time, and I am with my family even if we don't like each other that much these days.
But the negativity can't always be shaken off especially when my thighs and butt were sore from all the sitting and staying in one place, and the feeling that my mind was wasting away looking at the same entries word for word (as the answers they submitted were obviously copied word for word.. 😂), over and over again from student to student.
I admit those feelings were valid. I was just tired... of everything, and too much was expected from all of us teachers in such a short span of time. I lacked sleep and were constantly reminded of things where I was falling short of and more importantly, I did things that were contrary to my values and things I wasn't proud of, just to comply.
It's also partly because of the value system that was drilled into my head when I was young. The phrase "Don't stop when you're tired, stop when you're done" sends me spiraling decades back in elementary school when these slogans would occupy majority of my classroom's wall space, and it doesn't only stop there.
My dad was the living breathing epitome of the phrase and even encouraged me to still embody it when I was a closeted suicidal back in college. It's not his fault, he just said whatever he thought was best for me at that time.
He came from a financially struggled background where he and his sister were made to believe that they could not afford resting... at all. That was the way he knew how to do things back then, which served him to fortunately get to the position where he is now.
That was probably the only way he knew how to do things which showed results. And me idolizing my dad at a very young age also spent the past two decades living my life that way ever since I started learning how to read and write. It did show marvelous results, I admit, but it did develop a skull-crushing pressure and anxiety to not fall short at anything I deemed important as well.
So what did I learn in Hell Week?
One: Set Realistic Workloads and Regular Resting Hours
What stood out was the feeling of absolute exhaustion before even starting anything. The thought of rummaging through a pile of yellow and white papers endlessly left me teetering unhealthily between analysis paralysis and anxiety-fueled rage. There was no in between.
So when the time came, I basically threw that "Don't stop when you're tired, stop when you're done" mantra out the window. I never felt so betrayed by a mantra I held so strongly the past 20 years of my life. Sitting straight hours in, in a dimly lit room, my back frozen stiff, and looking at nothing else but piles of answer sheets, anxious, angry, and overwhelmed, really made me reevaluate my values, and if what I really was doing was meaningful. Prior doing any checking, I kept saying to myself "I'll rest after I finish checking 3 sections worth of activities" "I'll rest after I finish half of my workload" and then beat myself up for being unable to.
I guess the lesson here is that, to keep your sanity, keep your individual workload realistic despite being given unrealistic deadlines set by your employer? 😂
It wasn't easy even with hired help, but I eventually replaced the toxic cycle of: (1) being hopeful, (2) being in the zone, (3) finishing a section but beating myself up for being exhausted (4) continuing despite exhaustion (5) hating what I'm doing (6) realizing there is still more to check (7) being overwhelmed on the amount I still have to check (8) staying paralyzed because of the amount (9) RAGE QUITTING and then finally taking a break (10) beating around the bush before actually starting again, when I realized I could just pole in between breaks.
I just took as many breaks as possible in between checking sessions and just poled... just poled my frustrations away instead of waiting for some miracle to finish checking all of the pile of papers.
Two: Reach out to the Right People
Aside from the physical and mental exhaustion I was experiencing for a week, it was also pretty much isolating.
Being stuck in an enclosed space for a long time with limited sunlight really does have profound effects on people's mood. As much as I would like to keep my grown-up woman pants on and "power through" the workload, there was no doubt of the immense loneliness I feel in doing all of these alone, and the shame connected with these kinds of feelings exacerbates the loneliness makes reaching out to other people all the more difficult.
Aside from that, I also engaged in some negative emotions that were unnecessary like envy, rivalry, and of course... the more obvious, pride. While stuck at home and all I had was the internet and social media to communicate with the outside world, the mixed feelings that come with it like envy towards my same age group who seem to have it all figured out and the guilt and the shame of possessing the said thoughts every time I experience that feeling, when I SHOULD BE GRATEFUL makes the isolation more lonely and suffocating than ever.
I just couldn't find myself opening up and reach out to anyone when I needed to. It's not even them, it's me.
"What if you are just bothering or being a nuisance to them?" "What if they're going through the same thing, and you're just complaining?" "What if your negativity just isn't welcome?" "What if they're just going to tell you to get a grip?" "What if you're just not being positive enough?"
Thoughts like these flood my mind and as much as I am aware of these thoughts flooding in, I am very aware that taking action on it has a price, and the price is risking rejection, or getting an answer you wouldn't like. Because what if my "negativity" just isn't welcome? Or what if, I'm just not being "positive" enough? What if I'm just being a nuisance at that time? I've already experienced rejection from a professional, so how much more from my own inner circle?
But the thing is, people are all so busy with life, and dealing with their own problems, and going through their own type of hell as well.
I've been on the other side, as the one being reached out to, and sometimes, it can't be helped when there is just too much on our plates, or that we just lack the mental and emotional space to cushion our loved ones' feelings when they need it, and the mere fact that the person reaching out to us is someone we love, it also can't be helped to feel partly responsible for what they're feeling. Subconsciously, our brains are also trying to find a way to avoid feeling more negative emotions than what we can accommodate, turning things into a wrestling match, with the different parts of the brain having differing opinions on how to best handle the situation without leaving ourselves empty.
I guess that's what makes feelings so complex when you sympathize with the chaos happening all around you, but are enraged by it at the same time. It's all beautiful and at the same time, exhausting.
There is a huge part of me that thinks my problems are too trivial, or maybe I convinced myself that I just needed to snap out of it because I am too "lazy" to think about the positive side, or maybe just "lazy" in general. I've grown enough I think, to know that it's not healthy have these kinds of labels on my own thoughts, but I guess I got this from a history of influence from unhealthy people despite their many good intentions.
Although right now, it may seem that I am very aware of what is going on inside and outside my head, but awareness does not always mean my toxic thinking patterns are "cured". Things like these cannot be readily fixed.
Anyhow, I'm happy how I still got to communicate my ill feelings without walking over other people's time, emotional and mental boundaries. I guess what they say about communication in relationships are true: communication really is key, and to keep people who matter in our lives, we need to learn to communicate and reach out when we need to but not at the expense of their own mental and emotional bandwidth.
My friends are one of the greatest people I've known for teaching these things to me, and I'm lucky to have them and hope to reciprocate the same for them and my future friends in the future.
Roxanne Marie is the twenty-year-old something who calls herself the Protean Creator.
She is a chemical engineer by profession, pole-dancer and blogger by passion and frustration, and lastly, a life enthusiast. She is on a mission to rediscover her truth through the messy iterative process of learning, relearning and unlearning. Currently, she works as a science and research instructor in her hometown, Tagbilaran City, all the while documenting her misadventures, reflections and shenanigans as a working-class millennial here on Hive.
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