I have been staring at the screen on and off for a while now. I mean, hours, broken up by reading or watching fairly meaningless scenes.
I’m still here, in the house where, a week ago today, my friend asked me to leave because it was intruding on her family time and because she wanted the space for the daughter she feels resentful of and, at the same time, does not want to leave.
My friend has stopped agonizing and handwringing and yesterday felt somewhat normal. Today she seemed angry when I said hello to her, just shockingly angry. Maybe she wasn’t, but I also did not think any of the tension I felt in the house had anything to do with me. So who knows.
I got C’s grades a few days ago at last, but she had left off her grade for her elective class, which is agriculture and has a textbook, but I think consists of keeping a garden. C’s grades had gone down in every subject except for English. In English, she showed improvement.
I felt very sad. I don’t know what happened. Everyone had told me how well she is doing. I don’t know if she actually had seemed to be doing well and lost it at exam time, or if she tells people she is doing well and they believe her. Overall, she went down by about 7 percentage points. She was middle of her class last year. This must put her near the bottom.
I was just so sad.
I think maybe I missed being able to talk about this with her. There is a problem, and we are each alone with it. I don’t know.
I felt strange the rest of the day, just sort of unwell and maybe sensitive–not myself, inclined to drift off into washes of hopelessness and unworthiness that don’t actually make sense to me when they happen.
I went for a coffee in the afternoon, just to get out of the house. I thought I had better write a letter to C, even if my thoughts about her grades might not arrive for several weeks, when she has already picked herself up and moved on from them. I told her find a way to feel hopeful again. When we don’t feel we succeeded, we feel hopeless and we don’t want to try again, but the students who succeed in the end are the ones who keep trying. Find a way to be hopeful. When you have small successes, notice them and try to remember them. They will motivate you towards more success.
While I was writing, there was woman in the coffee shop speaking Russian to her two children. I didn’t immediately notice the language. I just felt better. I saw her speaking to her children, and I thought of buttery cookies and hugs.
I was in a coffee shop and trying to write a letter it was difficult to think about anyway, and I didn’t have a lot of emotional space to consider what was happening. I felt something and didn’t dwell on it. But later, after I left, and began to walk home and felt slammed by feelings of hopelessness and worthlessness, I wondered if that was why. I left this reminder of loss and loss can feel hopeless. It is one of the stages of grief.
I have an appointment with the therapist for Monday. Let’s see how it goes.