PTSD gained more and more recognition over the last 15 years. CPTSD is fairly new but fits better with what I lived with since I was 5 years old. These past few weeks pushed my stressed levels to about a 8 on a 10 point scale. Next comes screaming then passing out. Wednesday sucked. I was shocked to walk into work late to find to teachers waiting for me to open the door to have a meeting. Both knew our teacher was forced to resign but here they were expecting me to fall in line with their meeting with no message or information to me that this would happen. I was stressed because I had another meeting to be at. (I have a much deeper sympathy for all teachers and all the meetings they have to attend.) I called the teacher for the other meeting and cancelled. (First mistake....the appropriate answer, "I'm sorry, I knew nothing about this and have a commitment some place else.") So I am sitting in a meeting I know nothing about when half way through they launch into a prolonged discussion about child birth.
A. Fashion class has nothing to do with this.
B. I am sitting there fretting about the mountain of work I need to do.
C. I don't want to know this much about them. Eww.
My anxiety is sky rocketing. Then over this bizzare conversation of how much of the body was exposed to the world during childbirth, one of the teachers asks if I have knit fabric. Actually we did get a bunch that wasn't usable for our projects. She asked if she could swap for some of this. It seemed like a reasonable request. I am already complying with the meeting.....what ever. My attitude should have given me a clue I was spiraling down. After the meeting was finally over I went over to get the knit fabric we didn't need. While I am getting it down, this other teacher starts going through all our fabric drawers, pulls out our very expensive leather, and exclaims, "Oh, we could use this for the bracelets we are making." PTSD kicked in. I fawned all over her and helped her to her big SUV with our leather and fabric. Like the well trained robot I was taught to be, I didn't object once. By the time I was back in the classroom the rage smacked me around for being so compliant and stupid that I didn't JUST say NO. I would LOVE to be able to just say no. PTSD is a pattern of behaviors that helped me survive a hellish childhood. However, it sucks as an adult. Fortunately, the long term sub was there for class so I sent myself on errands to keep my foul mood far away from the students. Teenagers quickly pick up on a nasty attitude and blame themselves. The students are great, its the adults that I am struggling with. I still feel so used, stupid, and completely pissed off. I also feel like I need to replace the leather we lost because of my inability to tell the teacher to keep her hands off our leather. Some days, I hate PTSD.