You Are Not Alone

Written by Abby O’Brien

It’s been quite a year, hasn’t it? An exhausting, all-too-significant chapter for the history books and in our individual lives. But we’ve endured, we’ve survived, and, as tends to happen, God has entwined blessings with hardship. Dozens of people have come out of the pandemic grounded and gifted with a new perspective, myself included. Now that the end of the road seems to be drawing near, I would like to take this opportunity to pass on what I’ve learned, in the hopes that it will inspire families to look at their lives—both with and without the pandemic—and make a change. Interestingly enough, my story starts with someone else’s methods of coping and adapting to health problems.

I once knew a woman who had been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. Among other side effects, the disease drastically reduced her endurance, to the point where completing simple, daily tasks became an uphill battle. One day she shared with me a concept that I circle back to pretty much every time I get overwhelmed. She said she liked to think of energy in spoonfuls; if normal people had, say, ten spoonfuls a day to use, she would only have four or five. Cleaning her house might take one spoonful. Picking her daughter up from school, two and a half. Once she had used all her spoonfuls, she was done for the day—no matter what—so, she explained, she had to ration them carefully. She also had to accept when some things would just have to wait until the next day, or not get done at all.

This way of thinking has been immensely helpful to me during the past year. Between searching for a college, completing senior-year coursework, and learning to navigate a new teaching job—all in the middle of a pandemic—it was just plain unrealistic to believe that some things wouldn’t fall through the cracks. Once I came to terms with that, life got a lot easier. Now, granted, it’s easier for me to say that than most of my colleagues; they’ve got their own kids to teach and to raise, in addition to everything else. But I would like to put in writing, as both a teacher and a daughter, that letting some things slide is okay. This past month, my mom was in bed with Covid for over two weeks, and my siblings didn’t do any schoolwork. They are still going to complete the year as two perfectly capable, learned, intelligent middle-schoolers. At the risk of being overly blunt, the takeaway here is something my therapist told me a few months ago: the world is not going to collapse if you prioritize yourself.

It’s less difficult to say than to believe, especially if you are someone who is used to taking on more than you probably should. Trust me, I get that. I was the same way. But the truth is, whether you are eighteen or eighty, that’s not healthy. You have to be honest with yourself about what you can handle. If you can grade twenty papers in a day, that’s great! If you can only do five, that’s perfectly alright, too. Doing the best you can do is enough. We are blessed to live and work in a community that is understanding, compassionate, and supportive; remember that. And most importantly, remember there is someone more powerful, more capable than anyone on earth watching over you, and he has promised to shoulder your burdens and give strength to your spirit. You are not alone.

So let yourself be tired, overwhelmed, or frustrated; rest and relax when you need to; and trust that, at the end of the day, the world will keep on spinning. Teachers or not—we’re only human, and if this past year has reminded us of anything, it’s that human beings are fragile creatures. Be gentle with yourself. You deserve it.