Teachers are supposed to long for summer. At least all the countdowns, memes and travel ads say so. But now that it’s here, why do I feel so depressed?
As soon as Spring Break ends I dream of that final bell. I imagine sunny days spent by the pool, reading for fun and watching 7.5 hours straight of Netflix guilt free. When that last bell rings, however, I get this overwhelming feeling of dread. What is wrong with me? Shouldn’t I be celebrating, like every other teacher that survived a year full of bottle flips and fidget spinners?
Instead, I’m curled up on my couch with a beer, that doesn’t even taste appealing anymore, and a head full of desires. It has been five days and I long for the routine of the 8:00 a.m. flag salute, the 10:04 bathroom break, and even the you-can-make-it-there’s-only-fifteen-minutes-left countdown at the end of the day.
Summer gives me too much time to think. As I greet people over brunch, they exclaim “You’re on summer break, no wonder you look so happy!” Outwardly I may be smiling, but inside I feel tormented. Old conversations and new imagined ones stew inside the confines of my mind. I want to pretend I’m important to people, but I usually end up at this–without my job, my life is terribly pathetic. I begin to doubt myself, my abilities and my contributions to this world. It took only five days to reach this point. Sure, Binge watching 13 Reasons Why probably wasn’t helpful, but there’s something about Summer that makes me feel the bleakness of life.
I know…you’re thinking ‘shut up already and just teach summer school.’ But it’s not the same. Summer school lacks the excitement of new classes, of lunches shared with colleagues and long developed relationships with students.
I feel like dementors are hovering over my house and the only cure is one that comes with the Fall. Most will disagree with these sentiments. But for me, summer can go.