As the weeks continue to drone on in rapid succession, I find myself settling into the habitual ways of “the educator.” I place the profession in quotation marks because up until a few weeks ago, my profession felt like an unattainable projection of the person I had only hoped I’d become. Now, exactly 3 months later, I feel as if I’ve located my academic and professional identity.

Even now as I write in the midst of Diocesan Professional Development, I feel confident and proud of how I’ve handled the past few weeks. My job has sucked the life out of me at a gradual pace since I left home at the end of August. It has been a constant struggle to balance work, personal life, and self-care. The reality of my situation has been 5:15 a.m. wake-ups an 10-hour days in the classroom. Education has siphoned my sanity, and the only way to slake my thirst for rest and peace of mind is to alter my viewpoint on my job and situation.

I had fallen victim to the enslavement of my own mind and self-doubt. For some reason, unbeknownst to me and everyone near and dear to my heart, I blamed myself for every trial and tribulation at the helm of my classroom. I found fault after fault in my planning and assessment, so much so that my metacognitive qualities as a reflective practitioner consumed every waking thought, Even my subdued thoughts in the moments between nighttime tea, prayer, and a glorious REM cycle have been afflicted by the downward spiral of my own doing.

Last week near the end of my 40 plus hours was the first insight I’ve had into the notion that everything was going to be okay. I was going to make it through this year of 300 miles back and forth and endless sobs on a Sunday afternoon. The great irony here in my recent realization that I am in fact okay, and that I will survive this year I’ve concocted for myself is that it is exactly two years to the date since my car accident. Right around this same time two years ago, I posted a blog titled “It’s Okay,” and if that isn’t God himself blessing my life, then I don’t know what is.

When I was driving the six hours home after professional development last Friday, it hit me. As I got closer and closer to the accident site that truly rocked my world for the majority of my junior year of college, I had an emotional breakdown – worse than any Sunday sobs. First came the slight trickle of salty drops as they marred the residual makeup after a long day of presentations. Next came waves of hyperventilation as I watched the sun set and the miles reduce on the GPS. What followed were a myriad of flashbacks. I could hear the screech of the breaks and the crunch of the metal as my compact car rolled over and over on two lanes of traffic-ridden highway. I could feel the seatbelt slacken so that I could slip out of the car and avoid entrapment. I could see the tissue box fly up from the backseat and situate itself underneath the windshield right before it would have exploded in my face. By the grace of God, I survived that day, and with the guidance of my guardian angel, I live today, reflecting on the ways of the world.

We live and breath in cycles, and if I didn’t believe in a higher power, I wouldn’t notice the cyclic nature and progression of livelihood. I wouldn’t notice how vastly different my life is now compared to this horrible day, two years ago, a few days before my 21st birthday. Now that I am about to embark on my 23rd year, I know how blessed I am in this thing called life. However, it is only fair that I give credit where credit is due because without the presence of Mr. Know-it-All, I would not make it as a teacher or as a functional human being. He makes my life better, and together, we can take on the world. Our relationship is truly tested week after week, but I know in my heart that we will make it through. Especially after Friday night when I was still shaken from my trip down memory lane. He comforted me, and with one look, I knew I was okay and that he was in my life for the long haul … no matter how crazy I am or how crazy he is now learning my family can be.

You see, adulthood itself is a strange concoction of loneliness and fear, as well as a willingness to succeed in the societal constructs that exist today, one being success in the workplace. While I have people in my life who push me to succeed and recognize the work that I put into my career, I still have spouts of doubt. How can I succeed in my professional life if my personal life feels as if it will take years to make whole? I am so very grateful for my partner in this world; however, distance gets me every time. Even the logical and rational notion that the distance is only temporary cannot keep the tears at bay or calm my racing mind. Will this ever change … my mind, of course? Probably not. I don’t feel as if I’ll ever be able to silence the scattered and anxious thoughts that plague my mind each night.

However, because my personal and my professional identities have finally met and exchanged handshakes, the rest of my life appears more manageable. The unknown is less scary, and my life feels a tad less frazzled. Take this week, for example. I planned out my lessons and materials for an entire week in two days in an effort to stay ahead in my endeavors … and to prep for the anxious arrival of a day off. While it was stressful and time consuming, I did it. No one can match my levels of neuroses and OCD color-coordinated organization. This is the first week for which I feel the most prepared, and I won’t even be in class today. I can do this.

As I flesh out all my worries and musings and indulge in a little written therapy, I reflect on my weekend with my love. It was such a thrill to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of a Penn State white out, even though they should have won by a lot more than a touchdown. However, getting Creamery ice cream and huddling in the stands was well worth the frigid temperatures and overall exhaustion. This weekend is what got me through the last week of my life, even though my daily dose of coffee surely helped to bring me along through the muddled state of my affairs. Now, I have the next four days until I see my love again for a birthday celebration even though my birthday has a somber mood. A constant stream of delectable coffee will get me through … until next time.