breaking shit helps.

I am stressed out.

way out.
way far out.
wicked way far out.

I'm a hella mess.

the o'pah and I had an entire day fight. all 16 hours of waking was spent either arguing some point, slamming things around (yeah, I went there. first time in about 83 years), attempting to reconcile, or fussing, again.

did I mention I'm a mess?

part of it is this house. I.just.don't.want.to.be.here. I love this house. It's gorgeous, fun, kinda quirky and charming as all get out...

but I bought it with Mark. when I asked for a divorce I NEVER intended to stay here...and its starting to wear thin for me.

way thin.

another part of it is my job. its hard. I'm poor. and it taxes me emotionally like nothing else I've done before. I think I pushed too far when I started to work with these kids at school...AND at home.

working at the shelter was a bad idea. I'm burnt out.

I look at the broken ones.

broken minds from
broken families.
broken homes.
broken society.

and I get sad. overwhelmingly so. I see a kid acting up at school. sometimes I ACTUALLY know his family...more often than not...I can guess.

I've taught children with PTSD from a parent trying to murder them (the siblings, unfortunately, didn't survive). I've taught children who live in homeless shelters. I've taught kids who've witnessed murder. I've taught children terrorized (mentally and physically) by drug dealers and users. I've taught a child who's father caught off her fingers (which were then surgically replaced by her toes) and slashed her face. I taught a disabled child who was being sexually molested almost DAILY.

fucking monsters.

I see these kids and their tormentors everywhere I go. I see them in my sleep, in my rear view mirror, at Taco Bell.

I live (and teach) in fucking Gotham City.

I need to leave. its killing me.

knowing the back-story has only made this harder for me. I KNOW that these children are man-handled and abused. I KNOW that their parents were, too. I KNOW...

that there isn't much hope of changing GENERATIONS of dysfunction.

and its hard for me to help when I'm not helping.

I'm turning into a(n?) universal hall-monitor. yesterday I reprimanded a family outside of McDonald's for putting their trash on the ground SIX FEET from a trashcan. In my teacher voice I also told the employees on break that they were too close to the door, blocking the walkway and needed to go smoke somewhere else. I helped the two VERY SMALL unattended children order their food...then I sank into a chair and realized...

its not my job.

I see my students all the time...and strangely enough...even the ones I clashed with smile, hug me and are glad to see me.

maybe because they can feel the energy I expend on them.
maybe because nobody else cares.

sometimes...a little thing makes it feel worthwhile,

but more often than not these days...I'm just fried.

I'm yapping at my kid, fighting with my man and too emotionally exhausted when I get home to enjoy the family I've got here.

I've got to get the hell out of here.

however...breaking shit helps. they've made MASSIVE progress on the Bin's house. we've got it down to the studs. half of the roof was removed yesterday and the top floor was expanded for the new one. I tore up floors, tore down walls. knocked down ceilings, ripped up boards, tossed shit out (non-existant) windows.

I was so stressed out and vicious when I got there friday (the day I spent 25 minutes locked in a school parking lot and damn near flipped...for good) that they said they were going to duct tape me to the wall a few feet off the floor so i wouldn't end up hurting anyone.

unfortunately the name "duct tape devil" seems to have stuck.

^ha. it stuck. get it?

the help he's receiving is tremendous. he's got a foreman, crew, supplies. ALL donated.

yesterday they went to 84 lumber for roofing supplies. picked up $900 worth of stuff...

the cashier charged them $250. local businesses are kicking in. skilled labor is showing up DAILY. electricians, fire repair specialists, contractors, framers...you name it. they're there to help.

the kindness and concern of these people is ALMOST enough to offset my disillusionment with the rest of this godforsaken sink hole.

almost.