It's official. I am depressed.
Thankfully, it's a reactive form of depression, brought on by recent events (and some would argue, my crazy compulsion to look after everyone else but myself).
The doctor has given me some medication and told me to take the rest of the week off. Both suggestions troubled me initially: firstly, I am always hesitant to take any kind of drugs, and secondly, because I was concerned that time off might cause people to see me as unreliable (yes dad, I do take in the things you say!).
After some thought though, and a conversation with my sensible, experienced and wonderful best friend, I decided to follow the doctor's advice. He is a doctor after all!
So I'll be taking anti-depressants for the next few months, and will hopefully get my mojo back.
As for work, as Sally said, until this catastrophic event exploded into my life, my actions and achievements spoke for themselves (I know I'm going to have to keep reminding myself of these, as that terrible 'teacher guilt' creeps in). I was (am) a well-liked, highly skilled, respected, prize-winning (fully funded places in 2 separate conferences in two years), published (my maths unit on a national teaching website), interviewed (for the national union's magazine) teacher who has just hit a bump in the road. Those are the things that I will keep telling myself are important, not my current rate of absences. When I really think about it, I do love teaching, it's just that my judgement is clouded.
But the main thing is (once again I can credit Sally for this) that I have to look after myself. I have been busy looking after everyone else and have neglected myself. If I don't slow down, there will be an even bigger crash.