Tough times don’t last, tough people do?

This has been a challenging week for me.

Teaching and interacting with the students this week has been the only saving grace. Receiving Teacher’s Day presents is only the tip of the iceberg – the messages they’ve written for me really warms my heart and makes me light up so much. Other than that, it makes me extremely heartened to know they’ve also improved, whether in terms of their composition, comprehension, or even cloze passages and grammar – I notice every small bit of improvement and when I see it reflected in their results, it makes me more confident that I have not made the wrong decision to choose teaching, because seeing these kids grow and learn is really the greatest reward of the job. It’s possible to impart so much to them other than just academic knowledge – whether it’s in terms of values, life lessons, teaching them to interact and accept each other, or make them excitable about the ever changing world out there, At the same time, there’s so much I learn from them (and their parents) as well, because it’s through the children than you can tell so much about the parenting they have received and it’s ever so enlightening.

At the same time, though, it’s also very frustrating how we have to travel across so many facilities in a week (and sometimes even 2-3 places in a day). And the marking……An insurmountable mountain that never paves off.

I’ve also been rather heavy hearted and dispirited this week too. Sometimes, I feel so alone. While I’m perfectly comfortable in my own skin, and would go out alone to chill, get work done, shopping, exercising – basically everything, I still feel so alone sometimes. It almost makes me feel like I’m perpetually joyless and only have bad thoughts inside my head that I don’t know how to convey to anyone else about. I feel lost and confused, and I miss my dad.

When I went for the Election Rally, it just hit me so hard how I could have probably gone with my Dad if he was still around, and not alone like I was that day. It would have been nice if I could have shared that with him. And that bastardly ringing sound that I hear in the double decked buses only remind me of the cruel, whirring sound that drained the life out of us all during the weeks in that hospital room. If he was around, maybe a lot of things would be very different. And the path I would have charted for myself would have been different just because he was around. And maybe I would still be eating apples, because I no longer eat them anymore although they used to be my most favourite, irreplaceable fruit.

I am so jaded. What’s the difference between being in one, if I still feel alone?

Tough times don’t last, tough people do?