When I Say I'm Fine

I have the terrible habit of saying I'm fine when in reality I'm not fine at all. I'm pretty sure the majority of my close friends have caught on to this trick and can tell in my demeanor the truth. Honestly, I'm not trying to lie or hide my feelings at all, rather I'm trying to fake myself into believing I'm okay. Overall, I am okay, I am fine. I have a great job working with people I truly love. I feel like I might be making a small difference in the lives of some children. I have the most caring and compassionate friends, who I would do anything for...literally. I have an understanding family, who give the most applicable advice they have to offer. I don't want for much. I can admit I'm spoiled. I can think and reason and read. I have an outlet for personal expression in photography.

My hang-ups revolve around learning to let things go, understanding that I cannot control my life and be happy at the same time, deciding what things I can change and which things are futile, discovering what I want to do with my life, what makes me happy, learning how to relax and most importantly coping with past experiences in a positive way. I over analyze everything. I think WAY too much. I'm never satisfied with myself or anything I do. I'm judgmental. I'm mean. I'm completely contradictory. And most devastatingly I'm stubborn. And I'm being entirely open and honest, which is part of the drive behind this blog.

We go back to school tomorrow after having the day off to celebrate Martin Luther King, Jr. Day and I'm filled with mixed emotions. I want to get back to a consistent routine at school, but I've really become addicted to our short work weeks and snow days. I'll die when we have to actually teach for 5 full days consecutively. I would like to pretend I've spent the time off well, but I haven't. I've been lazy, which isn't typical for me. I'm thinking about going to bed soon even. 

My life lines. My stupid iphone and my notebook from school. They hold my secrets and basically my life.