That moment you get on Facebook and see the hundredth person from your mission get engaged/married...and they came home after you. 

I can't decide if I'm ticked/annoyed, or if I'm weirdly proud of myself for still holding out. 

Only three more days. Three days. Then I get a three week respite from my students. Don't worry though, I'm finally starting to kind of like them. Sometimes. Very occasionally.

My Latest Realization

So, this weekend I had a life changing realization:

I don't like teaching all of the subjects.

I guess the realization came as a result of a conversation I had with my co-worker on Friday afternoon. I was saying how when I was student teaching, I really enjoyed teaching writing. It was fun and didn't seem that hard. But last year and this year, it's been so difficult. I have similar feelings about reading. There are so many fun things you can do with reading, but it's hard to know exactly what, or how, given the various reading levels in your class. And then there's science and social studies. I find them both extremely fascinating, but making the content interesting and engaging enough for 11- and 12-year-olds to find it fascinating is an entirely different story. And I won't even begin to complain about having to teach art, P.E. and computers. That leaves math.

And there it is...I would love it if I only taught math.

But dang it, I'm an elementary school teacher. I'd have to teach middle or high school if I only wanted to do math. But wait! I teach 6th grade math. And most places, and even some places in Utah, have 6th grade in middle school. And guess what else? The curriculum I've taught the past two years is Common Core. Most states have adopted the math Common Core. That means I could teach 6th grade middle school math just about anywhere. And I'm technically certified to teach grades 1-8. I'd probably just have to look into a couple of classes or something to get a math specialization and BOOM. I'd have a job that maybe I'd enjoy. Because the last 6 weeks have NOT been enjoyable. In fact, they've been the opposite of enjoyable.

The only problem with this new plan for my life...I still have a little more than 9 months left of this school year. Dang.

Dating in the Eyes of a 6th Grader

Today I had the funniest conversation with one of my students. We were out at recess and a couple of girls came up and asked me a question about what they should do about some girl drama. Anyways, that's not the funny part.

Somehow then we shifted into talking about boys. And Sally, we'll call her, admitted that she is "going out" with one of the boys from our class. Apparently he texts her all the time and was really upset when she didn't respond to him this morning because she's grounded from her phone. But that's still not the funny part. They then went on to tell me of two other interclass couples that I have. So my curiosity was piqued. What do they think they are accomplishing by "going out" with someone? Here is a paraphrasing of our dialogue:

Ms. G: So, tell me, what does it mean when you say that you're "going out" with someone?
Sally: Well, it means that we're dating!
Ms. G: So you go on dates?
Sally: NO! Hahaha
Ms. G: So you sit with each other at lunch?
Sally: No! *giggle*
Ms. G: So...you hang out at recess?
Sally: Haha nooo!
Ms. G: Then what does it mean?!
Sally: Well...sometimes we hug after school.
Ms. G: *nodding* Ok, I see. So I hugged a boy yesterday...does that mean he's my boyfriend?
Sally: Oh my gosh, noooo!!

I think the thing that I love most about this is that the unlogical logic of 6th graders hasn't changed one bit since I was one of them.

My Two Cents on Depression

Robin William's death is absolutely tragic and he will be missed by millions of people. I'll admit, I'm not usually one to comment about stuff like this, but this one hit close to home and has left me with lots of thoughts that I actually want to share.

I have a strong belief that there are two different kinds of depression. There's the kind that pretty much everyone deals with from time to time. Life gets tough, things aren't going well, you get discouraged and kind of sad. It sucks.

Then there's the other kind. The one where you don't know why you're unhappy. All you know is that there is a dark cloud over you that won't disappear, no matter how hard you try to outrun it. It follows you and rains on you and makes life more miserable than words can even begin to describe. I like to distinguish this kind of depression from the other by calling it clinical depression. I absolutely believe that it is due to a chemical imbalance in your brain. No matter how hard you fight it, sheer will power will not conquer this kind of depression.

I have suffered from both of these kinds of depression. While the first kind is not pleasant in any way, there is no way to describe the hell that is clinical depression. Nobody on this Earth could ever begin to understand what it's like unless they've experienced it themselves. And then I really think that it's completely different for each and every case. So there is nobody on this Earth that can ever fully understand another person's depression.

I could tell you about how awful it was for me; about how often and how long I would cry; about how I didn't even know why I was really upset; about how broken and helpless I felt; about how fatigued I always was; about how I had no interest in anything except for sleeping because it was an escape from this world. But even if I was able to describe it perfectly in words, you still would have absolutely no idea what it was actually like for me.

You can't judge anyone based on the fact that they've dealt with depression. There isn't anyone who you can "target" as being depressed. There isn't anything that makes someone especially more susceptible to depression than others (except maybe genetics). I was a missionary when I was clinically depressed. There has never been a time in my life when I was living closer to God than during that time, yet I was struck with this illness. It isn't that hard to hide either. You never know who is struggling with depression.

Thankfully my experience never escalated in severity enough to make me contemplate suicide. I never lost hope in there being something better sometime. I don't know if it was my faith or my personality or just what, but I can see how it could be completely different for others.

I was able to get out of the pit though because I sought help. I had Jo and Sara, two of the best companions and friends that I could have had at the time. I went to a counselor. I went to the doctor. I think it was a combination of medication and God's will that healed me, along with time and patience. I was lucky with how short of time I had to deal with it (although I know that doesn't mean I'll never have to deal with it again). Others have to fight it for longer. And it's harder. And it's not fair. And we have no idea what kinds of demons they are facing. I'm not saying that I condone suicide, but there's no way that we know what a person feels like they have to escape from. Because it can be pretty damn terrible and you don't even have a real reason why.

Long story short, I wish everyone would stop talking about depression like they're experts. Nobody knows anything about someone else's depression.

P.S. You can read more about my personal experience with depression here.