No Longer Afraid, Part 3b: The Amazing Things that Happened After the "Years from Hell"

So that I won't bore you with another long story, I'm just going to list as many of the things that I have experienced and learned during the time after "the incident." (not necessarily in chronological order or order of importance... I'm just writing as I remember them.)

Note: If you didn't read Part 3a of this series, go back and find it first.

- After deciding to become a "none" (someone who has completely given up on organized religion), God led me to a church where I'm accepted as I am, and where I can practice sign as I am part of a deaf ministry within a hearing church - best of both worlds!

- Learned a LOT of patience through living with my parents and after about 5 years of doing so out of need and obligation, I recognized that I wanted to live with them, even if I had the finances to move out.

- My daughter and I lived near the Smoky Mountains and the second house we looked at here had a few of the hills (small mountains?) out of what would be her window. There was also a porch roof that she could go out on from her room to sit and think.

- Because of leaving Tennessee, my daughter didn't get to spend her senior year at her high school - and her beloved color guard. As a "guard mom," I was also sad about that chapter of her life being over. We knew that any colleges she could go to would have an extremely strenuous color guard program - and due to health reasons, we were sure that wouldn't be possible. She ended up going to a small, private college, with a tiny color guard who worried more about fun than about perfect routines. That was the last year they had a color guard - and it gave her one more year to do it before saying goodbye.

- Since I was a teenager, I've loved photography. In fact, I thought about doing that for a living for a while. But I was scared. I simply wasn't brave enough to take that kind of chance with my financial future. However, when I had to move back in with my parents, they encouraged me to try. It's another miracle and you can read it here: https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2023/02/my-your-voice-editorial.html 

Because of this happening, I have photographed The World Games, Darci Lynne, pro-IndyCar racing, semi-pro G-league basketball, pro motorcycle racing, semi-pro AFL soccer, semi-pro AAA baseball, Winter Jam, TobyMac, college gymnastics, fancy galas, 5K races, Arangetrams (Indian dance recitals), several local dance schools' recitals, concerts, ventriloquists, comedians... the list goes on and on. I've won awards for my photography and was the featured photographer for a while for a local magazine.

In fact, I wrote the beginning part of this post while waiting for a semi-pro basketball game to start - and I'm going to photograph it. I'm finishing this post during the first quarter of a USFL professional football game, up in the writers' room. I'm planning to photograph it starting at halftime. 

This upcoming weekend my husband and I are shooting Nascar at Talladega, which is a really difficult event to get credentials. The weekend after that will be our 3rd time shooting Indycar at Barber here in Birmingham. Then in May, we'll be shooting MotoAmerica, a high-level motorcycle race weekend and later in the summer, we'll shoot Indycar again at Mid-Ohio, Travis' favorite track.

Memorial Day weekend, we've been asked to shoot KLove Fan Awards Red Carpet before the awards then we'll be in their media room during the show.

This stuff continues to blow me away.

- I started reading at 2 years old. I have no idea how early it was, but writing at least one book has been one of those dreams that was so far-fetched, I could barely dream it. 

Well, the book hasn't happened... yet. But I've had somewhere between 150-200 articles published in various magazines and newspapers. I won a national award - beating out many who had trained and/or gone to school for journalism and had done it for years.

I have interviewed world-class athletes, popular comedians, many Christian performers, authors (including Francine Rivers - one of my absolute favorite authors), big-time movie producers and directors, social media influencers, and many, many "regular people" who were doing amazing things.

- I have worked with two amazing therapists and have progressed so much more than I have ever could have imagined. The second one does EMDR, which is a way to reprocess traumatic memories. I have finally been able to get past some of the horrible memories that I have experienced with her help.

- The endless mystery of my health (mental and physical) has had some small parts solved. I have gotten some new diagnoses that explain a lot of my symptoms. Even though I haven't found any cures, it still helps to know what's wrong.

- I also have realized I'm an addict. I'm thankful that this area has a wonderful 12-Step program for my particular addiction and I have learned much, much more than simply how to stay "sober." 

- I've gotten to help my parents and I've probably literally saved my mom's life more than once, as sometimes my dad isn't doing that well and can't always help her when there's a crisis. 

- Becoming fluent in sign language has been another dream I've had since I was a child - probably 8 or 9 years old. In my 40s, I gave up that dream as I've tried and tried to take classes or learn on my own and because I had no one to practice with, I never got that far.

After I started dating my then-boyfriend, now-husband, Travis, I found out he had started classes a couple of years before we met. Not only have a found free classes locally, but I have also found a group of very dear, deaf friends. I have gone to a deaf church for about 3 years now and, even though I'm not close to what I would consider fluent, I'm definitely further along than earlier. 

I feel that with another year of learning and I'll be able to hold a conversation without issue. Another year after that and I'm hoping to become a licensed ASL interpreter.

- Best of all, after a divorce I thought would never happen to me, raising a daughter by myself, and being single for about 20 years, I met and married Travis, an amazing man who, without question, is better than I could have ever imagined.

There are a lot of other things that have happened because of one of the worst times of my life, but I want to get this published. As I sit here, looking out over the Protective Stadium from the top floor of  Protective Stadium, I'm just so blown away there is no good way to describe it. 

From those days I was afraid to go outside or answer the phone because of who I might run into to being able to do all this... I'm just really thankful. 

Telling Your Whole Story in Spite of its Stigma

I'm sitting at a retreat and just finished listening to an amazing speaker who has a very long story of recovery from addiction. One aspect of his workshop was about helping others by sharing your own story of addiction.

So here is mine.

Man, I don't know where to start..........

And - that was as far as I got. That hesitancy about not knowing how to start continued, then the idea got buried. The retreat was in October 2022 and I'm just now getting back to finishing it in March 2023.

If you read my "No Longer Afraid" posts, you'll have much more context on why I'm suddenly brave enough to share this part of my story. However, reading them isn't necessary for this post.

Here I go...

Yeah, I can do this...

Maybe I'm still a little nervous about it...

Here I really go...

It's only four little words - Tracy, you can do this!

Okay... I'm a sex addict.

There, I said it.

Of all of the addictions, I feel that sex addiction is the one connected with the most stigma. Think about it - a man can get up in front of a large congregation in a conservative church and say he was sober from alcohol or drugs and he'll get applause and support.

Not so with sex addiction. I've been "sober" for almost 5 years now and I would never imagine being able to share it with a big group. (Great... those could be famous last words, as I can see God taking them and then leading me to share this part of my story with a big group. Only time will tell.)

I do want to clarify before you start thinking the worst... I was addicted to pornography. It never got to the point of acting out (as we sex addicts call it) with another person or doing something illegal. 

One disclaimer - though I don't believe that porn is morally right, I'm not saying that those who watch porn are necessarily sex addicts. It's just like there are plenty of people who drink who aren't alcoholics. It's the compulsion to do the activity in spite of consequences that defines being an addict.

But the thing about addiction is that it's a slippery slope and once you start that slide, it's almost impossible to stop. Many of those in my 12-Step group started with porn and it led to worse and worse things. Some have even spent years in prison for what they ended up doing.

The thing is, I love those people in my group, even the ones who have done some really horrible things. They messed up and every single one of us who attend have had consequences, some major. 

All of us became different once we worked the 12-Step program and continued attending meetings. We don't judge each other for what we've done (since we rarely share specifics, any person attending could have done some really bad stuff). We all know that even if we didn't get that far within our addiction, it could have easily happened to us.

 

No Longer Afraid, Part 3a: The Amazing Things that Happened After the "Years from Hell"

So that I won't bore you with another long story, I'm just going to list as many of the things that I have experienced and learned during the time after "the incident." (not necessarily in chronological order or order of importance... I'm just writing as I remember them.)

But before I get going with the list, I have to highlight the most unlikely and incredible event:

On the way home from our honeymoon, Travis and I stopped at a rest stop in the northern part of Alabama. As I walked into the building, I saw a dad talking to his son about Fahrenheit vs Celcius while looking at a thermometer on the porch. This wasn't anything amazing, except that the son was a teenager and had Down Syndrome. 

I remember thinking - boy, that kid must have some great parents and have had some amazing teachers. (Not that I don't believe those with Down Syndrome can't learn - in fact, I feel totally the opposite - but because of stigmas and fewer opportunities than others, many can't reach their personal potential.)

It was a passing thought and I quickly went inside the building to the restroom so we could get back on the road. 

As I walked in, I saw a woman who looked familiar. In fact, we each did a double-take. But I'm HORRIBLE with faces and I assumed she simply looked like someone I knew. 

I mean, what are the chances of running into someone I actually know at a rest stop in northern AL? I've lived in the Birmingham area and the Knoxville area, so if I was in one of those places, it would be a definite possibility, but a random rest stop?

I kept trying to place the face with a name while, um, actually using the restroom, and couldn't come up with anything.

Imagine my surprise when I walked out to see all three standing together... and at that moment it hit me.

This was the student who I advocated for, taking the side of the parents and against what my school system proposed - the student who I was told that I couldn't talk to the parents outside of class (I snuck them notes) - the student who was much smarter than the school system would give him credit for.

The student who my school system wanted to put in a CDC class (one for students who have a really, really hard time learning) instead of getting special help in order for him to be in regular classes.

(Excuse me while I take a minute to bask in this amazing memory...)

    Looking back, I feel this was the major situation that led to my being micromanaged, stressed further in an already stressful job, and eventually losing my career.

    So, in a way, it was because I believed in this student so much that led to so much heartache, pain, and loss - but then became the best thing that ever could have happened to me.

(Back to the story...)

I couldn't pick my jaw up off the floor. I stood there, staring, wondering if I was dreaming. I could barely form words.

My new husband, Travis, stepped in and worded for me. The mom (I'm keeping their names anonymous) told me how he was doing. 

HE WAS IN REGULAR CLASSES! 

He had lots of modifications, of course, but if I hadn't gone to bat for him, his life could literally be completely different. He could have been put in that CDC class and wouldn't have even been exposed to the vast majority of information typical students get. 

Even though he's smart, he would have gotten further and further behind as the years went on and would have probably graduated with a special education diploma instead of a regular one.

Don't get me wrong, I am not saying that those things are bad. There are many students for whom that is a wonderful plan. But not for this little guy. I knew he had more in him.

Even with everything that happened with "the incident" (and I still don't know how much they know of the entire story), this mom had reached out to me a few times through the years to ask about how to handle certain situations. Those boosts helped me tamp down the shame I felt about what happened and it seems they helped her keep advocating for him.

She told me she is still tired of fighting, but she's done really well getting him the services he needed to get him to this point. As he ages, he'll probably need more and more support and may not be in regular classes at all by the end of high school (I doubt it, but it's possible) but my school system had wanted to give up on him in KINDERGARTEN. 

I'm so proud of her and his dad.

I'm not bragging, but I'm also so proud of the fact that I pushed the school system to give him what he needed instead of what they wanted to give and that I continued to encourage her to advocate for him.

My life is wonderful now (not perfect, mind you, in fact far from it) but you know what? 

Even if it wasn't wonderful, it would have been so worth it anyway. He was worth it. That family was worth it.

And God used it all.

It's amazing.

When the Progress You've Made Isn't Enough (Coping with Panic Attacks)

I've made a lot of progress through all of the years of counseling, self-help information, addiction support groups, EMDR, and other activities that contribute to healing. 

And I've made a lot of progress. Really I have. 

However... 

There have been two instances in the past few weeks that showed that I still have a loooooonnnnng way to go. 

When I woke up for church a couple of weeks ago, I wasn't feeling well. I almost didn't go. 

It was one of those times my determination (stubbornness?) was an asset, I guess. I had missed a lot lately due to work and other issues so I got ready and left. 

On the way, I started having a panic attack. It's been a while since I've had one and I knew I couldn't handle Sunday School the way I was feeling. 

I called my husband who was driving his car (due to somewhere he had to go right after church) and explained my thoughts about a way to cope.

My plan was to go to a local Dollar Tree and shop for about the next 45 minutes (I've fallen in love with DT!) and then I felt I should be okay to attend church after the distraction. 

It worked... To a point. 

I did calm down. I even laughed some. And as a bonus, I got some shopping done! 

I just knew I'd be okay. I was ready to handle church. 

It didn't work out that way. 

I don't know what triggered me, but something did. 

After only a few minutes, I knew I couldn't stay in church. It's a deaf church and it's true that they are more visual than many who are hearing. There would be no way I could fake it through the service. 

I fled before I completely lost it. 

Ironically, the closest place for me to head was my Sunday School classroom. 

It was only a few steps away, but by the time I got there, I started hyperventilating. My husband had followed me out and knew what to do - talk to me about mundane things to distract me from my labored breathing. 

I expected that... But what I didn't expect is that others would follow me out. Everyone was worried about me and several actually tried to find me. 

One man, the deaf ministry's worship leader, really engaged with me. I couldn't believe it, but before church was out that day, I was literally laughing out loud. 

Like I mentioned before, it had been a while - months? years?? - since my last panic attack. Once I made it through that one and remembered that I hadn't been sleeping and had a lot of caffeine which I had figured out were my main causes (but had forgotten at this point). 

I really didn't expect to have another one so soon. I know that I pushed it too much last night, shooting Winter Jam 2023 (my first time to shoot like I used to since the rotator cuff surgery). I shot about 1500 frames from angles all over the floor of the arena. 

I did stop early, once I realized what I was doing. But by then it was too late. 

By the time I got home, my arm was killing me. I couldn't sleep, even after taking multiple meds. I finally got up and took a bath and fell asleep for a short time in the tub.

I went back to bed for a while and slept another hour or two. It wasn't enough. 

On the positive side, I was able to walk and move my arm when I woke up. I really thought I'd be out for days while I let it heal. 

Instead, I was able to move, but the mental effects from the lack of sleep caused a repeat of two weeks ago. I'm at a women's retreat and several times on the way here and after I got here, it took major strength to not go back home. 

I'm glad I didn't leave. Some of the women here were so accommodating when they realized I wasn't doing well. That helped, but I still wasn't able to make it through the first session. 

I consider it a "failure" that I had another panic attack, but I am proud of myself in that I did what I needed - I went outside to calm down. 

When I got to my car, I cried and prayed. I took photos with my phone.

I enjoyed the beauty and stillness of this setting. 

It made all of the difference. 

Though I'm still really tired and my vision is still blurry from crying, I didn't go into a full-blown panic attack this time... And one reason why is a realization I had. 

One of the issues today was the overwhelming thought that all of these women who are wearing nice clothes and have fixed hair and makeup have it all together.

When I was outside, I reminded myself (out loud) that yes, I'm not like these women. I never will be. I have a weird personality. I question everything. 

I have physical and mental health issues that literally affect everything I do. I don't have nice clothes and I sweat off makeup so quickly that I don't even try anymore. My hair is cut in a "brush it and go" style (and it's especially bad today since I slept on it wet). 

But I'm not less - less worthy, less important, less a woman - because of those differences. 

I feel that God made me this way and even though I'm the weirdo in a group of neurotypical women (or any group of neurotypicals), I'm okay with who I am. 

I might not be like these women, but I have a lot of great traits:

- I see the world through the lens of a camera and can tell you which angle would be best for the shot without having a camera in my hand. 

- I have been told that I'm a very good interviewer. 

- I can empathize with those going through a lot of crap. 

- I question everything (yes, it's both a weakness and a strength). 

- I am usually able to juggle all of the aspects of my life effectively, in spite of my struggles. 

- I know how to live without having much. 

- I've been really, really low and I lived through it. 

- I'll keep trying and rarely give up on a hard task. 

- I'm fiercely independent but I'm learning how a measure of give-and-take. 

- I get to interview and shoot some amazing people and events. 

- I can understand those who don't fit into the mold, especially in Christian circles. 

- I am blessed with a good living situation and have enough financially for what I need. 

- I have amazing friends and family (not all, but most). 

I could go on but I need to get back to focusing on what's going on about the retreat. 

Life is good and I'm thankful, even if I still have panic attacks. 

No Longer Afraid Part 2: Provision During "The Year From Hell"

As often happens, it took a while for me to add part 2 to my last post. As I'm incredibly busy right now with work, it would have been even longer to write this, but just as I decided to go to the pool to work out this morning (something else I've been putting off), it started thundering. The pool I go to still has the winter season dome over it so the rain isn't an issue - but if there's lightning in the vicinity they clear the pool.

So... I have some extra time to finally finish the "No Longer Afraid" post. (Don't worry - it won't be as long as the other post.)

The same day "the incident" happened (which led to what I affectionately called "The Year from Hell"), I interviewed at Sylvan Learning for a part-time job. The director was a former student's parent and she loved me. She called me about the job and as soon as I sat down for the interview, she told me I had the job if I wanted it - the interview was to simply tell me what it would entail so I could decide.

I remember thinking, "For the first time since I became a single parent, I will finally not be struggling financially." (My ex-husband rarely paid child support and by this time, he hadn't been paying at all for years.)

It didn't happen that way, as it was only a couple of days later that I was suspended without pay. 

Now the word "provision" in the title of this post doesn't mean I was completely provided for financially. I made it because I had great credit, a house with some equity, and the willingness to let go of a lot of my "stuff" by selling it. My parents also helped.

I maxed out my credit cards and hoped for the day that my ex-husband would finally pay the back child support. In fact, I was careful to keep my credit debt to less than the amount he owed.

However, I also had this new job. It wasn't much, as it was only part-time and the pay rate wasn't great.

But it was something to help with the financial battle I was facing until I got back to work (as I just knew I would at the beginning of this time).

Much, much more than the small financial boost that this job gave me was the confidence that I wasn't a horrible person - or a horrible teacher. In fact, I quickly became the favorite. Parents would request me to work with their children and the director would always put me with the students who had the most issues with learning.

It was really strange. As I mentioned in the other post, one of my biggest fears was that the incident would get into the news. Also, some of the teachers working there were in the same school system as me. Even if it didn't become public information, the rumor mill is huge within schools and I was always afraid I would be found out.

I never was. 

It was a tremendous help to know that I was wanted, that I was productive, that I was making a little money, I was getting out of the house to a safe place, and that, as I said before, I wasn't a terrible teacher.

But this story doesn't end there. When my parents and I made the decision to buy a house where we could live together, it took a while to sell the house and fully move. I still had things I had to take care of at home and so I went back there every week or two.

Sylvan is a national company. I talked to the director of the branch near my new home and he was excited about hiring me. I quickly became one of his favorites and he even started training me to possibly take his place when he retired.

During that summer of housing limbo, I worked both places - I just had to let them know when I could work and it was never a big deal in either place to take off a week or more at a time. 

I did so well in my local branch that eventually I went to another one on the other side of town to get extra hours. It wasn't enough to live on independently, but with my parents' help, I was able to make it and start paying towards some of my massive debt.

Speaking of debt, another provision was how I just happened to get a free consultation with a financial advisor whose office was part of the building where I worked as a receptionist. (This was later in the timeline.)

To my complete surprise, he suggested bankruptcy. I was the kind of person who always paid my debts and worked really hard to get and keep a great credit score. (In fact, it was part of my identity - that I'm good with finances.) 

I told him that I simply needed to get the back child support I was owed, and I had enough to pay everything off. 

Again, this is something I'll never forget: He told me that there was no shame in filing for bankruptcy. In fact, it was made for situations like mine.

And then he suggested an idea I never could have even dreamed about... He said, "Just think - what if you had all of your debts wiped clean AND you got the money he owed you?"

I was floored. I couldn't imagine getting ahead financially. I did take his advice and later, I did get most of that child support. (I'm still owed a good bit)

Even as the year from hell continued into the first two and then three years since the incident (now I call it the yearS from hell), God continued to provide. There were many times my anxiety overtook my mind and I forgot how faithful He had been. But then I would step back and remember that this provision was nothing short of amazing.

One day soon I'll try to post about all the other amazing things that have happened since the years from hell finally subsided. It's just wild how incredible my life is now when I thought it was over during that season.

No Longer Afraid Part 1: The Beginning

I can't believe I'm about to share this. I've only shared it with a little over a handful of people - and it happened over 7 years ago.

When I tell people I lived in Tennessee most of my adult life, taught special ed for 25 years, and came back to Birmingham because my parents are at the age they need someone around, I wasn't lying.

However, I was leaving out an important detail.

One of the main reasons I moved back here was because I left my job. You might ask why that was a big deal - pretty much everyone has lost a job at some point for one reason or another. Personally, I've been devastated some of those times I was fired/let go/was no longer needed.

This was different - waaaay different.

Technically, I resigned. Technically, I wasn't fired. Technically, it was my choice.

But it wasn't.

Back in the fall of 2015, I made a mistake. It was a big mistake and it's one that has changed the course of my life in tremendous ways - both good and bad. 

Before I go into that (maybe the fear isn't ALL gone), let me explain a little background.

I'm a very weird combination of rebel and rule follower. Maybe a better term is "one who questions everything" (and I do mean everything). Maybe the best word for it is stubborn. There's definitely a lot of pride and arrogance mixed in there.

When I graduated college at the top of my class and then graduated with my Master's at the top of my class, and then took additional classes beyond those required, I thought I knew it all. Now that I think about it, I guess that's actually age-appropriate, especially for an overachiever like me.

But I held onto that belief for way too long. As the years passed and I settled into my favorite and longest-lasting role - teaching preschoolers with special needs - I took advantage of every opportunity to increase my skills and knowledge and stay up to date with the latest theories and techniques for teaching these little ones.

I loved it - and I thought I was good at it. I know that my students made progress and at least most of their parents loved me.

But as the years passed and frankly, as my supervisors and then later, the government, tried to tell me how to teach, I bucked up. Yes, I honestly did know more than they did about teaching this very specific population of students, but looking back, I'm sure my attitude wasn't the best. 

I taught how I was told to teach by the higher-ups.. to an extent. Whenever I could, I did it the way I felt was best. I held on to my beliefs about teaching like a starving dog holds onto a big, juicy bone. Needless to say, I wasn't very teachable.

Time, perspective, and lots and lots of therapy and wise counsel change how you look at things. At the time, I really thought I was doing what was best for my students. Now I realize there were a lot of better ways I could have handled certain situations.

But there are other areas where I still believe I was right. Yes, even in those situations I could have probably made other choices without compromising what I believed, but I hold to my overall decisions in those situations.

I won't go into them all, for the sake of those involved, but I'll just sum it up - there was a time when I made several recommendations for my students' programs that didn't agree with what my administration wanted. Even with everything that happened after, I still wouldn't change anything about what I did in those situations, even though I could have probably gotten the same result in a better way.

But I did what I thought was right - and I did it the only way I thought I could at the time.

It's hard to know how to proceed with this. I'm spending too much time justifying what I did and not enough on the point of this post. So, I'll try to sum it up.

One more quick insight into all this... this is my perspective after years of thinking, praying, crying, wondering, and talking to the few that I told. It might not be the whole truth, as I couldn't read the administration's minds. But this is my best guess.

I feel I initially got on the administration's radar because I didn't teach the way the government told me I should. I stood up for myself and my assistants (and my students, as I mentioned earlier). For someone terrified to stand up for myself, there were times I was pretty vocal about how I felt.

Add to that... I was very burnt out. For several years before this, I wanted out of the field. As much as I loved teaching, I couldn't stand the government telling me how to teach - when they had no idea what I was up against.

I had tried to find something else. I looked at school systems near me but they didn't have any openings that I felt I could do. I literally wasn't trained for anything else. With one exception of a short time I did some clerical work, every job I ever had revolved around children. I had worked in nurseries, daycares, and schools. I've been a nanny for two different families. I didn't know anything else.

I was also a single parent with an ex-husband who was tens of thousands of dollars behind in child support. I wasn't making much as a teacher but I made ends meet. At my age, I couldn't take a pay cut to start a new career.

One more thing... (again, this is not an excuse, just an explanation of where I was). I had undiagnosed bipolar disorder, type 2. I was diagnosed with pretty extreme depression and anxiety but no psych medications worked (probably at least in part due to the misdiagnosis). I also had anger issues that I literally had no idea about until about 4-5 years after all this happened.

So, after 20+ years of teaching, it got to the point I had to turn in my lesson plans like I was a first-year teacher. I could be formally observed by an administrator at literally any moment in the day. I was watched like a hawk.

Combine that pressure with my know-it-all attitude, burn-out, and mental health issues and it was a powder keg ready to explode. And like I described earlier, I felt stuck. It wasn't a good place to be.

Then "the incident" happened. (That's all I could call it for years). 

Let me set the scene.

I had a behavior-disordered student who was very difficult to keep in line. I was constantly worrying about him hurting someone or running away. I had asked and asked for help from the school system's behavior specialist, but she hadn't gotten back to me. 

Because our students all had to be signed out, we dismissed early and we brought our class to the front hallway of the school in order for their parents to pick them up. It was a big area and there were older students moving between classes.

It was a chaotic time, as parents had to sign out their children every day - and often I needed to talk to the parents for a minute before they left. At that time of day, I had one assistant.

That afternoon there were a couple of students who needed to go to the bathroom. One was the student I mentioned earlier.

My assistant signaled to me that this child was spitting in the bathroom. Because of the germs and other issues with body fluids like saliva, I knew it couldn't just be ignored.

I walked over and got the child and sat him down with the other students. I told him with a stern voice to stay there and went back to helping parents sign their children out, while I kept an eagle eye on him.

I didn't think anything of it. I think it was two days later, I got summoned to the principal's office (and yes, it struck that same fear as if I was an elementary school child). He told me that a parent had reported me for pushing a child down and yelling at him.

I was dumbfounded. That's not what happened. I literally didn't know what to say. Yes, I had sat him down. Yes, I had spoken loudly and sternly to him. But I hadn't done anything I hadn't seen other teachers do at times. I hadn't hurt him in any way. In fact, the next morning when he got to school, he literally ran to me for a hug first thing.

The shock continued when I was told I was being put on administrative leave while an investigation was conducted.

I had already been having gallbladder problems and was about to schedule surgery, so when I left abruptly, everyone assumed (or was told) it was because of my gallbladder.

Okay... even though I'm now not afraid to share it, reliving this time is extremely triggering for me and I've tried to block this from my memory for so long, I'm fuzzy on details. My stomach is killing me thinking about it. So I'm going to finish with a few random bullet points about what happened (not in chronological order - just as I think of them).

- During the investigation, fellow teachers and assistants were interviewed and they said some horrible stuff about me. I was absolutely shocked and, at the time, I was positive they were lying. I still don't feel it was true but I wonder if my perspective was skewed. Keep this in mind - I never hurt a child. But it's possible my anger, frustration, and anxiety spilled over when I was teaching much more than I realized. (After all, I literally thought I didn't have anger issues at that time.)

- The school system kept what was going on a secret because they didn't want it in the news. I was very thankful because one of my biggest concerns was my reputation. I didn't want to be judged by the public when I knew I would be reinstated to my position. However, because I was so worried about the press and my reputation, I didn't hire a lawyer even though I had liability insurance. I was sure that it would work out without going that route.

- I became mostly a recluse. I was absolutely terrified that I would run into someone who would ask about what was going on. I would wake up in the wee hours of the morning to check online for the newspaper's daily topics so that I would have a warning before I got a bunch of phone calls asking what happened. 

- Along with barely leaving the house, I tried to handle it all by myself. I was too ashamed of telling anyone, so I had almost no support. 

- The school reported what happened to the Department of Human Services (DHS) and every day I also dreaded getting a phone call or visit from them. (Their investigation showed no issues and I never heard from them at all, by the way).

- Finally, after about two months of going back and forth with the school system, a meeting was scheduled to tell me the outcome. Of course, I was scared it would be bad news but I knew I had done nothing bad enough to fire me. I really thought it would turn out okay.

- It didn't. I was told that they were going to recommend to the school board that I be fired. This would then be public information. They gave me the choice to resign, which I did. 

- I knew that my teaching license was also suspended. I can't remember what I thought would happen, but I was again shocked when I got a notice that it was revoked. I really didn't think it would go that far. I had always been one to work so hard to make sure that I kept it updated - I went beyond what was needed so it would never accidentally lapse. This was the final blow.

Anyway... one day soon I plan to write about all of the post-incident stuff and one way God provided in the middle of it that is amazing.

You might be wondering, "Why now? Why share this on a random Thursday when you've held it in so long?"

Again, I'll try to explain more later, but all I can say is that earlier today I was thinking about the future and the thought came in (as it almost always does)... "What about "the incident"? What if it's found out and everyone thinks horrible things about me?

I've fought those questions now for years. I had finally gotten to the place where I accepted that it didn't matter because the people who loved me would know that it wasn't true.

But the problem with that is... what if it was true? What if it was worse than I thought? What if my perspective was so messed up due to my mental health issues that they were right? Then the argument about truth was no longer valid.

For the first time in the many, many, many times I've had that thought and then those questions and all of the incredible anxiety and fear that accompanied them, I recognized what I actually needed to know. 

It really felt like this concept dropped straight into my spirit: It doesn't matter. Not because the people who know and love me also don't believe it's true, but because I'm not that person anymore. I don't think I was the person they thought I was then, but even if I was, I'm not that person anymore.

All this is the past. Just like I wouldn't hold judgment against a friend who has made mistakes, even really major ones, I can't hold it against myself.

I'm finally free.

My Introduction at a Pathfinders Meeting

This new group of women that I got to meet today are all P.O.N.F - Paralyzed, Overwhelmed, Fearful, and Needy. In fact, that's why we were all there, including the leader. 

I suggested that we call ourselves the PONF Pathfinder People. (Try to say that 3 times fast!)

When I saw the question in our workbook that we were to address as we introduced ourselves, "Do you feel overwhelmed, paralyzed, or needy?" (we added 'fearful' during the session), my answer was, "Yes!" There was no "or" about it.

My life defines PONF... and during introductions was one of those times it showed its ugly head.

The leader of the group, a friend of mine, knew how much I was struggling. When it was my turn to introduce myself, she offered to do so for me. However, I knew she would tell the highlight reel of where I am and I wanted to share where I really am.

I tried.

Really, I did. 

But I had been shaking more and more from nerves as my turn got closer and closer... when I started to share, tears started to flow instead of words. 

I ended up taking the leader up on her kind offer... but I had been correct. She said some of the great things I have accomplished. She did mention a little of why I was having a hard time, but of course, it's rare to share someone else's struggles for them - it's just not done.

Anyway, when I asked her to share for me, I also asked if I could write out what I really am feeling today. 

I had planned to email this directly to the group members but it's been a while since I have included a synopsis of who and where I am here... so why not post it for those few who read this blog?

Let's see... where to start?

Easy facts first.

I'm married - for four months now. It's my second marriage and my husband's first. His family was absolutely positive that he was never going to marry - and after five years of dating, I was sure they were right. 

They were wrong.

Side note... I'll try not to make this too long (...and everyone reading this says in unison, "Too late!") so for some aspects of my life, I'll provide links to those who may have the time and desire to find out more.

First link: a cute story I wrote about when we first started dating -  https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2020/02/

Back to the facts (these aren't quite as "easy")...

My husband has multiple mental and physical issues (but not as many as the rest of us in the family do). Not long after we first started dating, he was in and out of hospitals for several months. I took care of him throughout that time (when I wasn't working my part-time job, that is... my freelance work was moved aside for the time). 

He was eventually diagnosed with a rare auto-immune disease called Still's Disease. He does okay most of the time - when he's not having a flare-up, that is. (By the way, he's having a flare-up now).

I have one daughter who is now 23 and living with her fiance'. She has multiple mental and physical issues and had to drop out of college and is still unemployed two years later due to them. (This will be a recurring theme.)

They aren't planning to have kids but I have a plethora of grand-dogs, grand-cats, and grand-rats.

Second link: a plea I wrote to the teaching profession about kids like her - https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2019/10/to-all-of-teachers-of-those-with.html

My husband and I live with my parents, who have multiple mental and physical issues. In fact, my mom is in the ER, even as I write this, because of falling in the garage and hitting her head. I talked to her earlier and she told me to wait at home instead of with her. As there's nothing I can do there and I have a webinar I have to cover soon, for once I took her up on it - but I'm keeping in contact with her in case that changes and she needs me there.

Third link: some information about a few of my mom's issues - https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2019/09/sometimes-doctors-dont-know.html

About me - I have multiple mental and physical issues. My social anxiety disorder, combined with the low cycle (depressive cycle) I'm in currently due to my bipolar, type 2 is the main reason I couldn't introduce myself in person today.

I also deal with multiple other physical and mental issues and am currently experiencing a flare-up with one of them - fibromyalgia.

Fourth link: a somewhat in-depth essay about these issues, at least those diagnosed before July 2019 (several have been added since) - https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2019/07/

On top of that, in the past three years, I've had cataract surgery in both eyes (with complications), a major ankle injury that kept me in bed for about 8 weeks, carpal tunnel surgery in both wrists, and rotator cuff surgery on my right shoulder (my dominant side). This fall I need to have rotator cuff surgery on my other shoulder (of which, by the way, each shoulder surgery has about a 6-9 month recovery period).

Fifth, sixth, and seventh links: an essay on post-cataract surgery and gratitude, a little about how I felt shooting The World Games after my first carpal tunnel surgery, and how it was going a couple of weeks after my rotator cuff surgery -  https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2020/06/ and https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2022/09/engagement-surgery-and-world-games-oh.html and https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2022/12/two-weeks-post-rotator-cuff-surgery.html

I grew up in Birmingham and moved to Tennessee after my first marriage. I moved back here in 2016 due to a combination of professional junk and my parents getting to the age where they needed help.

In past lives I've been a radio DJ (at Jeff State - not professionally); an audio engineer for church, bands, and TV (professionally); a songwriter, musician, and part of many worship teams (amateur); a worship leader (for a tiny church), came very close to being ordained; and was a special ed teacher for 25 years. 

I'm learning ASL (sign language) after wanting to become fluent since I was a young child with a friend who had deaf parents. I gave up on that dream in my 30s and at age 54 it's finally happening. (It helps to go to a deaf church!) I'm still dreaming of becoming a licensed interpreter at some point.

Currently, I'm a professional freelance writer and photographer, and yes, I've won some awards for both. Our fearless (fearful?) leader already mentioned that. It's a very long story that I don't want to get into today, but I'll just sum it up by saying that God took something very, very bad and made it very. very good. 

Last link: how God got me where I am professionally - https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2023/02/my-your-voice-editorial.html

(Aren't you glad I didn't feel up to introducing myself today? We'd probably still be there now and at the time I'm finishing this post, it's dark outside. 😊)