What a difference - a year makes

One year ago, it was the end of a year and the beginning of a long winter's nap. Rest. Healing period. I took a leave of absence from my teaching job after the winter break to rest and seek treatment for the worst depression of my life. Now -- well, I've come a long, long way.

In 2011:

I learned that it was possible to love my work, but hate my job.

I used my writing skill to procure grant money, buying books for struggling readers. No one at school seemed to care.

My physical and mental health were at the lowest I've ever experienced.

I struggled to get through Christmas, a holiday I usually love.

"My" Green Bay Packers had one more season game left. To make the playoffs as a wild card team, they had to beat their arch rivals (and division champions) Da Bears. They beat them - and more.

I was preparing to visit doctors, counselors, and the pharmacy often. Very often.

As 2012 begins:

I can say I love my work. I found a position that utilizes my teaching strengths and my interests in technology.

I use my writing skill for blogging, and I have a workable rough draft of a non-fiction book.

I also use my writing skill to communicate with parents of my students. This skill was useful last September when I recruited families to attend a field trip that had been poorly attended in the past. My coworkers were thrilled.

Both my physical and mental health have improved significantly. No, they've improved greatly. I'm not out of the woods yet, I haven't reached full strength emotionally and physically, but I'm doing very, very well overall.

Christmas was as it should be - a time to gather with family and friends to enjoy the traditions that make the holiday special.

My Green Bay Packers clinched the division title weeks ago, a first round bye and home field advantage last week, and head into the playoffs with an impressive win-loss record. Did you notice that absence of quotation marks around the word my? Check it out here.

Doctors and other medical professionals? I value those who helped treat me through the toughest and darkest hours last year. I'm in their offices much less often now, and that's a good feeling.

What a difference a year makes - in so many ways. I still have flashbacks, usually in the form of nightmares or insomnia. I still tire easily, or at least more easily that I feel I should. However, this happens much less often now than it did just twelve months ago. But thanks to family, friends, and medical professionals, the marathon that is recovery continues.

I won't even bother to go into the political climate in the past year - yet. It'll show up in another post or posts.

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