What the Teacher Did Next

Life after Burnout

Most of my favourite maths lessons have involved food of some kind.  Or to be more specific, some kind of chocolate.  Just as there can be no omelette without breaking a few eggs, you can’t understand fractions without breaking a few KitKats (unless you’re more of a savoury person, in which case pizza will do the job just as well). 

Mars Bars for example – which can be safely cut up using nothing sharper than a ruler (more important in some classes than others) – open the door to all sorts of interesting conversations about equivalent fractions and mixed numbers.  Questions such as, “Would you rather share one Mars Bar with two children or four Mars Bars with six children?” are far more engaging when there are real Mars Bars at stake.

The possibilities are limited only by the quantity of chocolate. 

And let’s not forget Smarties: unambiguously marketed at those with an eagerness to learn.  Each packet contains an alluring jumble of colourful treats, in conveniently random quantities.  How could anybody empty a packet of Smarties onto a table and not feel an overwhelming urge to calculate percentages?  Fittingly, many lessons aimed at encouraging metacognition also make use of Smarties (for those unfamiliar with the language of Teacher Buzzword Bingo, this means thinking about your thinking.  Deep, I know, but the important thing is that you have to buy LOTS of Smarties).

Yes, chocolate can be a powerful friend when trying to engage children in maths, but regrettably, there is a dark side (and we’re not talking high percentage cacao here).

I’m guessing some kindhearted teachers will share the chocolate with the children at the end of a lesson, but given that maths is generally taught in the morning and I often skipped lunch as a teacher, I’m sure you can guess what happened to most of the chocolate in my classroom.

Of course, I always knew this was a bad idea; you don’t need a degree in nutrition to figure out the reason behind a massive sugar crash when you’ve just consumed three packets of Smarties.  But beyond that, I never really considered the impact sugar could be having on my mental health until now.  Having done some research on the subject, it seems that chocolate-led learning is not a good idea, unless of course you’re willing to share the spoils and enjoy as part of a nutritionally balanced diet.

I’m not taking the high ground here – I refuellled on a large slice of cake after half a day’s work yesterday – but it’s always good to make informed choices, so here are three important reasons why we need to be mindful of our sugar intake when struggling with mental health issues:

1. Sugar Causes Inflammation

It’s widely accepted that eating excessive amounts of sugar can cause inflammation in the body.  Not the natural sugar found in fruit and veg, which can actually be anti-inflammatory, but the added sugar found in chocolate, cakes or sugary drinks.  And whilst depression isn’t an inflammatory disease, scientists are increasingly recognising the importance of the two way communication between gut and brain (in fact, the gut is often referred to as the second brain) and finding links between inflammation, depression and other mental illnesses.  Interestingly, some studies have shown that the effectiveness of SSRIs can in some cases be attributed to their anti-inflammatory properties.  Conversely, other research shows that inflammation can inhibit the effectiveness of anti-depressant medication.

2. Sugar Causes Hormonal Havoc

When you eat sugar, your pancreas produces insulin to help absorb glucose from the bloodstream into liver, fat and skeletal muscle cells.  But the body responds to spikes in insulin, which cause a dramatic dip in blood sugar and an increase in appetite, by releasing cortisol.  This not only reduces insulin resistance over time, but also triggers a fight or flight response, which isn’t helpful if you’re suffering with chronic stress, depression or anxiety.  In fact, this sugar roller coaster may leave you feeling so low, that you find yourself reaching for another chocolate bar.  Tempting I know, but strap yourself in for a bumpy ride.

3. It’s not Sexy

To add to the problem, whilst your body is busy producing cortisol, it ceases production of the female sex hormone progesterone and another sex hormone, binding globulin, resulting in a decreased sex drive and elevated levels of testosterone and estrogen, thereby worsening the monthly misery that is premenstrual tension.  Not good news at all.

Unfortunately sugar cravings can be triggered by stress, perhaps due to depleted serotonin levels, meaning that you’re more likely to fall into the trap when you’re feeling low.  And this is compounded by the fact that dopamine, which acts like a reward system for our brains and can be a factor in addiction, is highly sensitive to sugar and can make those cravings difficult to resist. 

But whilst sugar might take the edge off depression and anxiety in the short term, it’s actually making the problem far, far worse and can even reduce the effectiveness of medication.

I’ll be honest here.  I can’t see myself giving up sugar completely and a life without carbs is unimaginable to me.  But I’ll definitely be making a few changes to even out my blood sugar levels.  As for chocolate-led maths….I think I’ll have to give that up altogether.  The temptation to eat all of the resources might just be too much.

Thank you for reading my post.  I welcome all feedback and would love to hear your views.  If you want to find out more about the connection between sugar and depression, I’ve included links below to some interesting articles I’ve read this week.  Please visit my Facebook Page to find more information and articles relating to teacher burnout and mental health.

Kelly Brogan MD ‘From Gut to Brain: The Inflammation – Depression Connection’ https://kellybroganmd.com/from-gut-to-brain-the-inflammation-connection/?fbclid=IwAR2VKILFhGtKisUzBG9TWJJe-2XDb96nxCZ1iVfysum02o1BV8WVHx32cgc

Kelly Brogan MD ‘Three Ways Sugar is Ruining Your Mental Health’ https://kellybroganmd.com/3-ways-sugar-ruining-mental-health/

Psychiatric Times, ‘Five Things to Know about Inflammation and Depression’  https://www.psychiatrictimes.com/special-reports/five-things-know-about-inflammation-and-depression

Psychology Today ‘The Link Between Sugar and Depression: What you Should Know’ https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/neuronarrative/201709/the-link-between-sugar-and-depression-what-you-should-know

Science News ‘Sugar Changes Brain Chemistry, New Animal Study Shows’ http://www.sci-news.com/medicine/sugar-brain-chemistry-08019.html?fbclid=IwAR1jlDGjaaXh2AqhswLKcdOH-ITNIt4mYhAB79J7Vh1rwpdJjvS4_UNcuaY

Very Well Mind, ‘Why You Self-Medicate with Carbs and Sugar During Depression https://www.verywellmind.com/why-do-i-crave-carbs-1065212

Psychology Today, ‘Is There a Blood Sugar Monster Lurking Within You?’ https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/inner-source/201311/is-there-blood-sugar-monster-lurking-within-you

Chris Kresser, ‘Nutrition and Mental Health: What’s the Connection?’ https://chriskresser.com/nutrition-and-mental-health-whats-the-connection/?fbclid=IwAR3ieoWw8di-cC2Z9gZCl62Qak8h-6tOJQGOlp8wRgMNdMiG53wckZ_O-Vw

Mindful, ‘Meet your Second Brain: The Gut https://www.mindful.org/meet-your-second-brain-the-gut/

Healthline, ‘The Connection Between Sugar and Depression’ https://www.healthline.com/health/depression/sugar-and-depression

I’ve never been good at break ups.  No matter how bad things get, I’ve always had trouble letting go.  Ironically, (for someone who can be a glass half empty kind of a girl) I’m blinded by the good stuff and end up flying back towards the light like a bedazzled moth, aiming for the moon, but inevitably getting burnt by a substandard 60-watt incandescent bulb.

In case you’re wondering – no, I’m not leaving my husband  – and yes, we are still talking about teaching.

It’s a few weeks now since my job as a full time class teacher came to an abrupt end, and I’ve been feeling so much better, I really have.   After struggling for the past year with depression and anxiety, it’s been such a blessing to have some time and space to piece myself back together again.  And whilst I was feeling nervous about stepping back into the classroom this week, I was also feeling optimistic.

There are loads of obvious benefits to supply teaching: the workload is more manageable; you can pick and choose when you work; you don’t have to get involved in the politics.  I thought it would be a chance to get back to basics and enjoy teaching again.  And for many teachers, it can be just that. 

But after just 2 days fluttering my well-rested teacher wings in the classroom, I flew headfirst into the artificial light, and the ensuing impact left me as stunned as a credulous winged critter, zapped by a high voltage trap: the chest pains returned for the first time in over a month; the strange tingling in my head, which I sometimes worry could actually be a mini-stroke (granted, I do have a tendency to misdiagnose these things) came back with a vengeance and the week ended, like so many others, with tears in the bathroom.  And now as I sit here at 4 O’clock in the morning, (yes, the insomnia is back too) contemplating the week ahead, the light is looking less appealing. 

I guess it’s called work-induced depression for a reason.  It’s one thing to feel better when you’re relaxing at home, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re ready to jump straight back in at the deep end.

You might think two days is a poor effort – and maybe you’re right. The average moth would probably have more stamina. But I’ve been fighting this battle for long enough already.  It’s hard to let go of something that you’ve worked so hard for, but maybe sometimes the brave choice isn’t to keep trying, but to know when to walk away; when to say enough is enough.  And I think I’m finally there. 

I’m not a moth, so why keep flying into the artificial light, when I know the moon has been right there in the sky the whole time? It’s time to take flight and plot a new course.  These frazzled wings are heading for clearer skies.

Thank you for reading my post.  I welcome all feedback and would love to hear your views.  You can also visit my Facebook page @whattheteacherdidnext.

So…after much internal debate, I’ve taken the plunge and signed up with a supply agency, and now that I’ve made the commitment, (albeit a very casual, part time commitment) I need to start focusing on the positives, because if I don’t have my head in the game, it’s going to be a very, very short game.  Now of course there are countless worthy reasons to be a teacher, we all know about those, but today I’ve been thinking about all the selfish reasons why I miss the classroom.  The reasons that are not so much child-centred as a little bit me-centred, because I’ve learnt that whilst it’s very noble putting the children first all the time, it can drive you a little bit bonkers.  Not only that, but it’s the days when you most enjoy teaching that the children most enjoy learning, so it’s actually a win-win situation.  So here it is, my list of 7 (horribly self-centred) reasons why teaching is awesome: 

1.  Much of the day is spent interacting with little folk who, let’s face it, are much more fun to be around than the average grown up.  Thrown together by fate (with a cut-off date of September 1st determining who their 29 (ish) peers will be for the next 7 years), each class brings its own dynamics, its own unique mix of characters and quirks.  And you get to know them all better than you know some of your own friends and family.  Yes, they may drive you nuts at times, but it really is a privilege to be able to build those relationships.

2.  Having a licence to be silly.  OK maybe not during an observation or in the middle of a crisis, but just at random moments throughout the day.  It’s hard to think of another job where you can start talking in a funny voice to get everyone’s attention, break into a song or dance down the corridor just because the mood takes you.  Yes, there are times (OK quite a few times) when you have to be serious, but there are lots of other times when you can let your hair down and have a bit of fun together.

3.  The time goes by incredibly fast.  It really does.  I’ve worked in offices where hours have felt like days.  Teaching is the complete opposite.  Even when it’s hard, it’s never boring (except for the marking of course…marking is the epitome of boredom).  In fact, I usually find myself willing time to slow down so we can finish what we’re doing.

4.  You receive heart-felt complements for things that you’ve never considered yourself to be particularly good at.  One class insisted that I read an entire book in my AMAZING cockney accent, and not only have I been told that my singing voice is beautiful (it really isn’t), I’ve also built up a solid fan base for my rapping. Best of all, my talent for art (which is still overwhelmingly unappreciated by everyone over the age of 10) has been lauded on numerous occasions – I’ve let this go to my head so much that I’ve pinned up some of my masterpieces in the study.

5.  You get to debate all sorts of important social issues with people who haven’t yet made up their minds and are open to different ways of looking at things.  In a world that sometimes feels like it’s lost its way, talking politics with children gives you hope for a brighter future.   

6.  Your mistakes – successfully rebranded in the classroom as opportunities for learning – are celebrated, discussed or laughed off.  Children love to tell a teacher when they’ve made a mistake, and that’s always a good thing.  Mistakes are treated as a shared experience that helps us all to move forward or sometimes just a funny distraction from the task in hand.  Even during observations, mistakes are great so long as you treat them with the positivity they deserve. 

7.  And finally…you get to learn new stuff.  All the time.  Teachers never stop learning, because they’re always at school.  You get to improve your writing skills; think about why you love the books that you do; get your head around Shakespeare; find out loads of interesting facts about Anglo Saxons, Vikings and Romans; study artists and learn different techniques; try different sports………the list could go on and on.  And of course the love of learning is as contagious as chickenpox: if you’ve got it, you can’t help but spread it to the children in your class.

When you think about it in these terms, teaching is pretty awesome and it’s understandable why outsiders sometimes perceive us as moaning minnies, who spend half their time messing about with kids and the other half on holiday.  But that’s the thing: if you strip away all of the other nonsense, then teaching should be a fun, joyful and aspirational career.  No-one is going to wave a magic wand and make all of the nonsense disappear, but what if we just focus all of our energy on the bits that we know are important, play the game when we need to and just learn to let the other stuff go.  Easier said than done, I know.  But I’ve been to the dark side and it wasn’t much fun, so this time I’m going to choose joy.   

Thanks for reading my post.  I welcome all feedback and would love to hear your views.  You can also visit What the Teacher Did Next on Facebook .

Since leaving the classroom a few weeks ago, I’ve been fortunate to be able to take some time for myself.  Removed from the chaos of trying to juggle family life with a 60 hour work week, I feel like I can breathe for the first time in months.  I’ve been taking better care of myself: swimming, running and even trying out Tai Chi, which I highly recommend to anyone searching for their happy place.  Cooking family meals, helping the kids with their homework and taming the household clutter into submission have all felt like a luxurious use of time.  I haven’t cried in weeks and I catch myself smiling, feeling relaxed at different moments throughout the day.  Life is good.

Unfortunately, the bills aren’t going to pay themselves, so this temporary reprieve will have to be short-lived.  I need to find a job.  And whilst I feel happy floating around in my alternate reality, it’s when I think about returning to real life that the anxiety starts to rear its ugly head.

The main problem for me is this. I am a teacher.  That’s how I’ve come to see myself.  I went into teaching for all the right reasons, I had the potential to be really good at it, and despite everything, I miss it.  I’ve looked at different careers, but nothing else seems to fit in quite the same way.  On the other hand, just picking up the phone to speak with the supply agency fills me with anxiety. So I’m faced with a dilemma.  Do I put my mental health on the line to give it one more try?

Last time around, I let teaching consume me whole like a giant Anaconda swallowing its prey. It digested me slowly until there was nothing left but bones and then spat out the remains in disgust.  To add insult to injury, it then complained about its meal, suggesting that it was lacking seasoning.  Sorry…a bit over dramatic I know, but you get the idea.  Anyway, the point is that having a bit of distance has given me a new perspective.  I can play it all back now and see how I let myself be consumed.  I understand the anaconda better, which means I can be better prepared to defend myself.

If I do go back, there are two important things I need to do better.

Self-Care

Not only do I need to prioritise self-care, I need to advocate it.  I need to be the teacher who proudly announces that they won’t be taking any work home because family comes first.  When other teachers tell me they worked until midnight, I need to announce unashamedly that I went for a swim and then enjoyed a long relaxing soak in the bath.  I need to do all of this without guilt, knowing that what I am advocating is right and healthy and sustainable.  Instead of making jokes about packhorses as colleagues leave school loaded down with books, I should question the hours they’re putting in at home and remind them that they need to take time for themselves.  Of course I’ll still work hard, but I’ll also allow myself to have a life outside of work.  I know what’s at stake now.  Teacher guilt is a powerful foe, and if I don’t want to be part of the problem, I need to be part of the solution.

Pushing Back

OK I’m prepared to take my share of the blame when it comes to self-care.  Going back into teaching without learning from the mistakes I’ve made in the past would very quickly end in tears, but I also know that there were other significant factors that contributed to my downfall.

I recently read an article Teacher Burnout or Demoralization? What’s the Difference and Why it Matters by Tim Walker on neaToday, in which he interviews Doris Santoro, author of Demoralized: Why Teachers Leave the Profession they Love and How They Can Stay.  Santoro argues that the term ‘teacher burnout’ is often misused and carries connotations of individual failure.  A teacher who is burned out may be perceived as weak, lacking resilience or failing to take care of themselves.  Essentially, this takes the focus away from the system and places the blame firmly on the individual.  Santora argues that many teachers leave the profession, not because they are burned out, but because they are demoralised.  This term addresses the lack of autonomy in teaching and the influence of factors such as high stakes testing, a narrowed curriculum and excessive administration tasks.  Most teachers go into the profession with a desire to help children and to make a difference, so when they’re asked to do things which are not in the best interest of the children, this results in an internal conflict which can be hard to overcome.  Santora suggests that reframing our view of burnout within the context of demoralisation can be hugely empowering.

Personally, I don’t think the distinction between burnout and demoralisation is clear cut.  In fact, I would argue that demoralisation is a contributing factor to teacher burnout, rather than an alternative explanation.  Nevertheless, the important thing is to recognise that whilst teachers do have a responsibility to take care of themselves, there are many problems that need to be addressed at an institutional and systemic level.

In their Summary and recommendations: teacher well-being and research report, Ofsted cite a number of factors which impact negatively on teacher well-being:

  • Heavy workload
  • A perceived lack of resources
  • Poor behaviour (and a lack of support from leaders and parents in managing behaviour)
  • Negative relationships with parents
  • Lack of influence over policy and frequent changes to policy
  • Stress caused by Ofsted inspections
  • Lack of support from (some) senior leaders
  • Lack of support from line managers 

In response, they’ve issued a number of recommendations both to the Department for Education (DfE) and to school leaders.  As teachers, we don’t have much influence over the DfE, but we do have a responsibility to start pushing back on senior leaders if they’re not adhering to these recommendations.  These include: the cultivation of a positive culture; reducing workload by following DfE guidelines; ensuring parents understand the appropriate way to raise concerns; granting teachers appropriate levels of autonomy; and supporting teachers in the implementation of behaviour policies.

Ofsted are also advocating a broader curriculum, with less emphasis on attainment.  Of course this has created its own workload as subject leaders busy themselves preparing for deep dives.  And in reality, many leaders are still using attainment as a means of measuring teacher performance. 

Sadly, when teachers start showing signs of burnout, there’s a tendency to advise leaving the profession; to prioritise mental health by walking away.  Instead of pushing back, we act as if our colleagues are disposable and we carry on as before.  But where does this leave our children?

The accountability culture in schools holds teachers responsible for pretty much everything; from the lack of provision for children with special educational needs to the behaviour of children with severe emotional difficulties.  And when a teacher burns out, who is accountable then?  The teacher of course, because they didn’t make time to eat their lunch, practise their daily meditation or get to the gym three times a week.  Teachers are amazing, but they’re not superhuman, and many of them burn out because they forget this simple fact.  Yes we need to take care of ourselves, but we also need to hold our senior leaders accountable for the unreasonable expectations, unnecessary workload and lack of support that is prevalent in so many of our schools.

So the choice I face is this: do I give up on teaching forever and write myself off as a statistic or do I put myself back together again, come back stronger than before and do what I wanted to do from the start….make a difference.  Because as teachers we know what is in the best interest of the children and what isn’t, and the biggest difference we can make right now is to push back on a system that is stopping us from doing the right thing.

Of course fighting talk is easy when you’re sat behind a computer and you don’t have any planning to do, but after years of being slowly digested, I’m finally beginning to feel whole again.  Maybe next week I’ll be ready to make that call.

Thanks for reading my post.  I welcome all feedback and would love to hear your views.  You can also visit What the Teacher Did Next on facebook to find other useful information and related articles.

So many people feel trapped in teaching, because they don’t know what else they can do.  Perhaps it’s because it’s a specialized profession, perhaps it’s the money or perhaps it’s because teaching becomes an inextricable part of our identity.  It can be hard to walk away for a number of reasons and it’s probably different for everyone, but something we all have in common is that our time as teachers has equipped us with an impressive set of transferable skills.  What we choose to do with these skills will depend on lots of other factors, but the important thing is that we recognise our worth, have confidence in our ability and go into the job market armed with the knowledge that any employer would be lucky to have us. Of course, it’s necessary to focus on different skills (depending upon the job) and provide concrete examples on a CV, but for now I’ve found that just writing down a summary of my transferable skills has made me feel more optimistic. If you’re a teacher or have previously worked as a teacher then you possess all of these skills and more.

1. Verbal Communication Skills:

Communication is at the heart of teaching and not just because we spend our days imparting knowledge.  Of course, the presentation skills we hone everyday are an enormous asset, but it is in the nuances of communication that we truly shine.  We’re constantly adapting our tone, our body language, our vocabulary to the ever changing needs of our audience.  We apply the arts of persuasion and negotiation to influence the children in our care and make a positive impact on their lives.  We are teachers, but too often we become counsellors for children who are having a tough time and need someone to listen, mediators for fractured friendship groups and psychologists for children with a broad range of social and emotional needs. We build relationships with parents, collaborate with colleagues, and show diplomacy when tackling delicate issues.  Teachers are communicators extraordinaire!

2. Advanced writing skills:

Teachers write. A lot.  As part of our day job, we model writing poems, stories, reports, instructions and persuasive texts.  Our relationship with grammar is far more intimate than required by many employers.  After the children have gone home, we create intricate plans, write reports and profile our children for safeguarding officers, social workers and educational psychologists.  We write emails, letters and even try our hand at digital marketing; setting up class blogs and managing social media feeds.  Furthermore, we spend a large part of our day editing other people’s writing; annotating mistakes and suggesting improvements.  Our attention to detail is borderline obsessive.  Teachers are accomplished, prolific and in many cases, incredibly talented writers.

3. Leadership and Management Skills:

Some teachers have line management responsibility for colleagues, but the rest of us have been sharpening our management skills as class teachers.  We are the masters of target setting, monitoring progress and assessment.  We respect diversity and can identify each individual’s strengths and areas for development.  We are leaders who motivate and inspire.  We understand the importance of developing a positive culture, encouraging a growth mindset and striving to help others reach their potential.    We delegate responsibility for jobs around the classroom and encourage children to take accountability for their work.  As subject leaders, we ensure that teachers are aware of the standards and expectations for our subject.  We chair meetings, mentor colleagues, provide training, scrutinize books and planning, observe lessons and provide constructive feedback.  Oh and dare I mention the “D” word.  Love it or hate it, teachers are proficient in the production, manipulation and presentation of data….and we all know how much management love data.

4. Planning and Organisation: 

Teachers rock at planning and organisation.  Teaching without these skills would be the equivalent of bungee jumping without a rope.  We research and plan detailed lessons, gather resources and differentiate every activity in line with the needs of our children.  We organise our classrooms to maximize engagement, encourage independence and foster collaboration.  We plan walks to the library, coach trips to the museum and run extra- curricular clubs – all within a tight budget and with risk assessments in place to mitigate every potential mishap.  We work to tight deadlines, prioritise workload and juggle changing and often conflicting requirements.  And because we’re required to prove that we did all of this and more, we’re first-rate record-keepers and experts in administration.  And if things don’t go to plan? We always expect the unexpected and have the flexibility to adapt our style, tweak an activity or even accept that there is a lesson to be learnt that is more valuable (at the time) than the one we had planned.

5. Creative Thinking and Problem Solving:

Teachers excel in creative thinking.  Every day we come up with new and exciting ways to inspire and motivate our classes.  We find ways of connecting with children who experience significant barriers to learning so that we can provide them with the tools they need to succeed.  When children are struggling to grasp a concept, we find another way to explain it, or to model it, or we enable the children to discover it for themselves.  We encourage children to look at problems in different ways and explore different possibilities.  We share ideas, identify issues and work together to resolve them.  Teaching is a dynamic profession; nothing ever stands still for long. We’re continuously adapting our practice to assimilate new ideas, apply current research and meet the needs of our audience, whilst at the same time trying to make it fun and engender a lifelong love of learning.  Teachers come up with intelligent, innovative and exciting ideas.  Every. Single. Day.    

Teachers are amazing and I have huge respect for all of those who continue to work their socks off for the good of the children.  But if you’ve reached the point where you need a change in direction, then know your worth.  Yes, you are a teacher, but that’s not all that you are, and it’s certainly not all that you could be.  I hope you find what you are looking for.

Thank you for reading my post.  I hope you found it useful.  I welcome all feedback and would love to hear about your own experience of leaving (or not leaving) teaching.

I’m not officially unemployed yet (just one signature away), but today is the day that my class find out that I won’t be teaching them anymore.  Some of them will be indifferent to this, one or two may be pleased, but others – the ones who need some stability in their lives – are going to feel like I walked out on them….because I did.  I walked out on them.  I didn’t want to.  I just had nothing left to give.

They’re a lively bunch, but it didn’t take long for them to get under my skin.  There are so many conflicting pressures in teaching, but I tried to make those relationships a priority, I really did.  So today I feel guilty.

I’ve only recently begun to open up about my depression and anxiety.  It’s been stalking me for the past year (with increasingly malicious intent), but apart from my husband and my GP, I didn’t tell anybody.  Heartbreakingly, my own children worked it out for themselves – I guess it’s hard not to notice when your mum keeps bursting into tears during mealtimes. Of course this only adds to the guilt. Other people knew I was feeling stressed, but stress is so endemic in today’s society, it barely registers.  I worked hard to hide the extent to which I was struggling until it reached crisis point, and by then it was too late to save my job.

The question is; would things have worked out differently if I’d opened up earlier?  I’m not so sure.  I’ve suffered low moods before, but nothing that I couldn’t come back from with a bit of CBT based self-help.  This was the first time I’d been unable to dig myself out of the hole, so turning to medication was a big deal for me (maybe this is just me buying into the stigma, I don’t know).  But when you start talking to people more openly, you find it’s actually a pretty standard coping mechanism these days.

It seems that teaching has become a sink or swim profession: you can either hack it, or you can’t.  Those who can’t have three options available to them: use anti-depressants or some other buoyancy aid to keep afloat; get out of the water; or drown.  I’ve only been in teaching for 4 years, but have already seen too many colleagues go under.

There seem to be three different schools of thought as to why this is:

  1. The pressures teachers face today are unsustainable
  2. Teachers need to take more responsibility for self-care
  3. Teaching is not for everyone (AKA Not everyone is cut out for teaching OR Teaching is a unique profession)

Personally, whilst I think teachers need to ensure that they prioritise self-care (see my post on Teacher Burnout: The Little House of Blame), the demands of the job sometimes make this feel impossible.

The argument I find the most worrying is that teaching is not for everyone.  Not only does this imply that the teachers who go under do so because of some flaw in their character, it also suggests that the current workload and pressures are entirely reasonable.

Am I happy for the teachers who love their work and can maintain some sort of work-life-balance into the bargain?  Of course I am.  But that doesn’t mean that they were born to teach and the rest of us are imposters: doomed to fail, due to our own inadequacies.  The problems faced by teachers are systemic.  We can only overcome them if we stick together.  If a teacher is struggling, throw them a lifeline.  Swimming upstream is exhausting and even the strongest swimmers tire eventually.

Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

Albert Einstein

It’s easy to blame everyone else when things go wrong.  I’ve been down that road so many times I had to build a little house.  I’ve been known to stay there for days and even weeks at a time.  The sad thing is, I don’t even like it there; it’s dark, damp and moldy and I often end up crying on the cold bathroom floor.  Clearly there are external factors at play in teacher burnout.  If you come and visit my little house one day, we can talk about them for hours.  But last time I visited, I resisted the lure of the cold tiles (the increase in medication might have helped with this) and instead turned my attention to the mirror.  Yes, there are external factors, but if I’m being honest with myself, that isn’t the whole story.  In fact, when I look in that mirror, I find myself asking some tricky questions.

Did I prioritise self-care?

Ummmm well….if by self-care you mean eating a whole packet of Matchmakers during afternoon lessons to ward off hunger, then yes absolutely, but otherwise no, most definitely not.  I made a conscious decision last year not to eat lunch anymore, because I didn’t have time.  I was too busy to eat lunch! In hindsight, nobody is too busy to eat lunch and when I return to work I will make eating lunch my number one priority.

I also neglected to do any exercise because I was too tired.  My husband, in his wisdom, suggested that I might be tired because I wasn’t doing any exercise, but I just shut myself in my little house of blame where I didn’t have to listen to his nonsense.  In hindsight, he may have had a point.

Did I make the most of my downtime?

Errrrrm possibly not.  One Saturday, I wasted 4 hours in my little house, simmering over the fact that I was too busy to spend time in the garden.  I achieved nothing that day, but successfully completed all of my planning before lunch on the Sunday.  In hindsight, I wish I’d taken the time to enjoy everything that Saturday had to offer.

Did I care too much?

Personally, I don’t think it’s possible to care too much about the children in your class, but you need to have firm boundaries in place and know when to switch off.  In hindsight, I didn’t do those children any favours by lying awake worrying all night.  

On the subject of caring too much, I recently read a great blog about Bleeding Heart Syndrome which really resonated with me.  I definitely suffer with this syndrome, although I have been known to misdiagnose myself in the past.  

https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/38868816/posts/1272

Did I over think things?

OK yes…yes I did do that. I do that a lot.  Over analysing throw away comments made by the management team; focusing on negative interactions with parents; beating myself up about poor behaviour (the children’s behaviour, not mine – just to be clear); yes, these are all things I like to do in my spare time.

My book of choice when I slip into overthink mode is Stop Thinking, Start Living: Discover Lifelong Happiness by Richard Carlson.  The message is simple, but it usually sets me back on the right track for a while.

This is by no means an exhaustive list of my mistakes, but I think it’s a good start.  I would be lying if I said I wasn’t going to visit the little house of blame again, and will no doubt invite you to join me there one day. There are numerous external factors which contribute to teacher burnout and we all need to vent sometimes, but in hindsight, I spent a lot of time worrying about things that were beyond my control.  Sometimes it’s empowering to take a good look in the mirror and accept your share of the blame.  Maybe if I try to approach things differently going forward, I might get more favourable results.

During my teacher training, one of my mentors compared teaching to being in a relationship with a bad boyfriend: it treats you badly and you know you should leave, but there’s something about it that you love, which makes it hard to walk away.  I never fell fully out of love, but just over four years later, with a heavy heart, I have finally walked away.  I would love to say I found the courage to walk away, but really it was quite the opposite.  I felt so weighed down, despite the antidepressants I’ve been taking for the past few months, I just couldn’t carry on any longer.  Friends and family keep asking me if I feel relieved, but I’m not quite there yet.  As anyone who’s been in a bad relationship will know, it’s one thing to walk away, but the real challenge is letting go.

For the past few months, I’ve been experiencing a recurring dream, where I have chewing gum stuck in my teeth and no matter how much of it I pull out, it just keeps on coming.  At first I found this dream disturbing, but it’s now become so familiar, I can literally recognise it in my sleep, and calmly reassure myself (via dream voice-over), that it’s not really happening. Some casual googling suggested this dream could reflect a state of indecision, frustration and powerlessness, and whether you believe in interpreting dreams or not, these were certainly feelings I could relate to.  Sometimes the relentless internal battle between stay and go was even more exhausting than the workload, poor behaviour and endless scrutiny.

So here I am: burnt out, somewhat disillusioned and without a job.  And now that the battle of stay or go has been unceremoniously resolved, it’s time for a new internal struggle: what am I going to do now?  Of course, it probably would have been wiser to ask that question before leaving my job. In fact, I recently finished reading School’s Out! The Definitive Guide to Leaving Teaching and Rebalancing Your Life by Phil Fletcher, which amongst other useful advice, advocates the benefits of a planned exit strategy, so I can’t even argue that hindsight is a wonderful thing.  Nevertheless, my teeth are free of troublesome gum and it’s time to start looking to the future.  It’s time to find the spark and light a new fire that will burn brighter than the old flame.  He really was a bad boyfriend.