OK. I’ve done my screeching. I’ve squawked at the telly, the children (the husband ran away to the garage), the colleagues, the twitter. The only person I haven’t screeched at is my mum (she has taken care not to ring me tonight). I’m all screeched out.
I’m confused. I’m fearful. I’m worried for myself, my husband, my kids and my wiser family. I’m worried about my team, my class, my school. I’m worried and I’m sad. Sad that we may be out of school for so long that I won’t be able to say goodbye to Y11 leavers, to help the new little ones find their feet with their first few visits. I’m worried about what will happen if we/they stay away. I fear what will happen if we stay together.
So that’s that. I’m worried about a whole load of variables that I can’t control, that we have people in charge of Things who inspire me with negative amounts of confidence.
Yesterday, I talked a bit with my team and I told them a story. I explained to them that I was no longer able to be in school. That my health, and that of my family was forcing my decision. That I was afraid – but that I was used to fear.
I told them about when Sam was born. I told them that at that time, the future looked bleak and frightening, full of heavy responsibilities that I didn’t want and was scared to take on. And then I told them that I had a choice, and that I made a choice.
I guess that’s what I am doing now. Making a choice.
Fear is a powerful foe. It dominated your thoughts and sends you in a spin, it makes you behave in ways that, well, I guess all those people who scrapped over toilet rolls are wondering why they did it (or they will one day anyway). It poisons today, even though the sun shone and the daffodils grew, the birds started making their nests in the trees, oblivious to the storm raging in the hearts of the human population.
There are still good things. There is love and laughter, friendship and community. There is bravery and resolution, team work and ingenuity. There is care in our community.
There will be rage, yes. I will no doubt find my fingers making way to this page to tell you all how cross I am, but tonight I am telling myself my story. Don’t let my fear of tomorrow poison my today.