The OK Adventures of Peppersloth and Annie

For the last eight and a half months, I have been writing about the OKS of OK. But in the last two weeks, OK has become very not okay. And I’m not okay with it.

                While surgery did go well, and I am healing, the repercussions of my fall are looming. I am in a heavy brace that is difficult for me to move, and impossible for me to lift. Not only is the brace heavy, but it’s uncomfortable. It keeps my leg locked in place, completely straight. No bending for a month. Period. Once I am able to bend, I will have to start physical therapy. We all know how I feel about anything physical! I’m just going to go ahead and assume that I’m going to hate it. For me, it’s pretty much as if the pandemic started over. I’m house bound. I can’t go anywhere. I only leave my bed to go to the bathroom. I can’t shower, and my bed smells like something curled up and died in it.

                But the physical aspect is nothing compared to my mental state. You know those sports movies where the football player gets injured and won’t be able to play for the rest of his life, so he goes into a deep depression? That’s where I’m at. I’m not quite at Million Dollar Baby depression. I know I will heal and come out of this, but I certainly feel the feelings of Gordon when he gets his knee busted at the beginning of Mighty Ducks II. My life is never going to be the same. I won’t be going back to work for a month. Even when I am able to go back, I won’t be able to go back to my classroom with my students. I won’t be able to handle the physical demands my room requires. Which means my time with them is done. No goodbyes, no nothing. It’s over. It makes me feel for teachers and seniors at this time last year.

                I failed my most recent test. I had my next one scheduled for the end of March, but there’s no way I can focus on studying right now. I don’t need the extra stress. Also, the time that I would have been taking it is when I will also be trying to come back to work. Absolutely not. I moved it to July. This means the likelihood of me having a full time teaching job for the fall is less likely. It feels like this teaching dream is getting farther and farther away.

                I have worked so hard for the last eight, almost nine, months to do something better with my life. I left Ohio because I knew I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, survive there. I picked an apartment without actually seeing it. I worked a job I was physically under qualified for. I survived two months of unemployment, waiting to see if the schools would open. I subbed until I was able to beg my way into a teacher’s aide position. I covered as a lead teacher for two and a half months because my lead teacher’s husband had cancer. And would you like to know what I got for my efforts? A boyfriend and a broken knee.

                Don’t get me wrong. Boyfriend is great. He is wonderful. I could do an entire blog post just about how wonderful he is! But a broken knee? What am I supposed to do with that? Why did I bust my butt for the last nine months, just for it to come to this? What was the point? Mu coworker is a nurse, and she told me post injury depression is normal. I don’t want to be normal. I want my life back! I’m not okay. I’m not okay at all. I’m angry and frustrated. I’m moody and depressed, which is making me a needy girlfriend. That’s something I absolutely cannot stand! I hate girls who are whiney and needy!

                Yes, I do know my injury could be worse. Not comforting. Yes, I do know my situation could be worse. Not comforting. Yes, I do know lots of good things have happened in the last nine months. Not comforting. NOTHING is comforting, and nothing is okay anymore.