Moving on

So I should start off my blog by saying sorry that I have been away for so long. I see from my stats that some of you have been checking in and reading some old stories… which means you missed me.

The truth is that I have been in a whirlwind of emotions and I have been really depressed because I was laid off from my job and then rehired by the same district to teach at a different high school. And yes, I am super lucky to have a job but I will no longer be teaching Black and White Photography in a darkroom. I know, we are moving to a digital world but I identified myself as a film photography teacher and moving on is hard for me, even if it is right across town.

So this blog is dedicated to all of my current and former students.

So why is moving on so hard?

I am going to miss the reputation that I have built for myself in the ten years that I have been at my school.

I am going to miss my sarcastic comments to you because it made you question if I was being serious or not.

I am going to miss the first time you watched me demonstrate how to process your film for the first time in the black bag and always getting the question, ‘we have to do that without looking?’ It would make me laugh but you all learned and succeeded in my classroom even when you thought you couldn’t.

I am going to miss the first time you opened your developing tank and pulled out your film for the first time and saw that yes, you indeed did take photographs.

I am going to miss how I tried to make you drop my classes and I would go around the classroom with a stack of drop/add forms but no one would take them… or everyone would take them and then I would laugh and laugh.

I am going to miss my ‘Crushed Dreams’ container on my desk and the ping a marble made when I was more witty than you were.

I am going to miss the first time you saw the ‘magic’ of the developer.

I am going to miss how I would be in the Fixer and every time I would tell you that it was the longest two minutes of your life… so how is your day?

I am going to miss telling you on the first day that even though you don’t know everyone yet, we will be one happy photography family by the end of the semester… and we were.

I am going to miss how cold you were from doing the Pinhole camera project in the middle of January and how warm I was because I would stay in my classroom.

I am going to miss how every time you came out of the darkroom, that I would tell you that you had to do a test strip and I had to see it. Every. Time.

I am going to miss smelling like chemicals.

I am going to miss the way you hugged me in the morning and between classes.

I am going to miss how you would come in and know exactly how my day was going because you cared about me.

I am going miss hearing and helping you with your problems.

I am going to miss your laughter.

I am going to miss how you came into my class knowing nothing and how when the semester was over, you became a photographer.

I am going to miss how I changed the way you viewed life through the lens of a camera and how even years down the road, you still view life differently. You have the ability to capture a moment and freeze it forever. Remember that.

Until we meet again,

Class dismissed

I am Just Going to be Honest

This blog is going to be about being honest. I am going to honestly say everything that I hate and then maybe if one person reads it, they can relate and see that they aren’t alone. I am going to just be honest and sarcastic because I don’t know what else to be.

  1. I am fat. If I related myself to a piece of candy, I wouldn’t be a king sized… I would be shareable because if you were dying in a plane crash, my body could feed the troops.
  2. I hate my teeth. They are yellow but only because they are dead inside from a fall… they are dead much like my soul.
  3. I hate not feeling comfortable in my own skin. I literally want to scratch it off because my depression feels so bad.
  4. I hate that I don’t love my job anymore. When the man takes over, they suck all the fun out of your job. I used to love going to work, now I can’t wait to leave.
  5. I hate that I have Borderline Personality Disorder. It’s nice to have a reason for why I do certain things but for the love of God, it is hard to be inside of my brain constantly hating myself each minute of every day.
  6. I hate when people tell you to just choose happiness. I would choose it… can I pick it up at the goddamn market? Are you selling happiness out of the back of your trunk asshole?
  7. I hate the feeling that I will never get better. People tell you that it will get better but I find that I have been waiting for years to get better but I am still waiting and I am extremely impatient. Like, hurry the fuck up already.
  8. I hate that feeling of wanting to hurt myself because no one understands what that feels like; what that emptiness and hopelessness feels like.
  9. I hate how my pinky toe barely has a nail on it. Why should I spend my time cutting it?
  10. I hate loving someone and them not loving you back the way you want them to; like I am giving you my heart and you are turning it into Swiss cheese.
  11. I hate lying to people and telling them that I am great. I am not great. I am not even ok but the only time I can be honest without push-back is if I write it down in this very public blog.
  12. I don’t like how long it takes my finger nails to grow.
  13. I really hate counting calories… I am not even good at math.
  14. I really hate when kids at school can’t meet deadlines
  15. I hate when people won’t let me honestly talk.
  16. I hate being suicidal when I know that I have a family that loves me.
  17. I hate parachute pants… you all look like ass clowns.
  18. I hate skinny jeans… are they cutting off your circulation because your lips are turning blue.
  19. I hate that I am at Starbucks and the Frappuccino’s are so many calories. Can’t you lie? I am fat and I am in a place that I just don’t fucking care about calories; I just want whipped cream.
  20. I hate that I hate myself as much as I do.

Until next time,

Maybe one day, I won’t hate so much.

I’m Great and You Can Fuck Off

I haven’t written in a while because nothing has really been going on but I am writing today because I am so pissed off that some people think that being depressed is a choice. If you do, you can fuck off.

I get really upset and distant when people say that what I am going through is a choice; I personally want to crawl out of my skin because that is how much pain I am in. I hope you never have to experience this type of pain. So before you judge someone with mental illness, maybe you should stop and put yourself in there shoes and think before you talk and hurt their feelings.

From now on, don’t ask me if I am ok because from now on, I am great! It’s a choice right? Just don’t ask me. You can call me stubborn or willful or whatever but from now on I will be the only one that knows how I feel and from now on, you don’t have to worry about me because I am fine.

Peace out,


Vincent Goes to School 

So this morning, Vincent explained to us that he is once again in debt with the school cafeteria. Surprise, surprise.

The kid is in debt every week and this morning, he finally confessed that he gets a milk everyday. Let me clarify, he told us that the milk in the cafeteria refrigerator is ‘free.’ Yes, my friends, my son is apparently stealing chocolate milk and thinking it is free.

After picking Vincent up from school, I found out that he did indeed drink his ‘free’ milk and then he cut art class to be with his girlfriend in gym class.

He is in second grade. Second grade and he is apparently stealing the hard stuff and cutting class.

Until next time,

It’s not stealing if it’s chocolate milk

You Can Sit in the Front

Being a person with Borderline Personality Disorder is like being on a rollercoaster. Everyday has an up and down; even if my day is going well, you don’t know what is setting me off and going on in my head.

Waking up is like taking a ride everyday; the ride looks great from afar- it starts with waiting in line and waiting for your turn and once you are at the front of the line you need to take that ride… after all, all your friends are doing it.

I get on the rollercoaster and take the first seat available; the front seat. That’s it, I crave the thrill of the ride. I feel nauseous but I am anticipating the seat belt check and the team member to give us the ‘go ahead.’ This time I am going to make it.

Click, click, click… I can feel the ride and the day starting off bumpy. My whole body shakes with the click, click, click of the tracks. My day starts off with not wanting to go to work because I don’t feel like I am making an impact; but I stay in my seat till I reach the top.

Just as fast as I get to the top, something sets me off and I am plummeting to the ground; a thought, a feeling, a memory. I try to open my eyes but the flashes in my head are too fast and I just tightly grab the bar and close my eyes. I don’t want to be in my head.

The twists and turns come as fast as the initial drop and my head is making things up about me. Telling me that I am not good enough and that I don’t belong.

The ride is jolting me left and right no matter how many times I checked the seatbelt, I am still being pushed back and forth. I hold on as tight as I can but this skill doesn’t help. I hit my head on the side; I hit the side repeatedly and I can’t stop. It’s the way to make the thoughts stop so I just let it happen.

My day comes to a slow plateau when I pass Joe on the side of the rollercoaster. He is watching me and cheering for me on the side and telling me to hold on and he will be there at the end of the day; at the end of the ride.

The rollercoaster comes to a screeching halt and I hear, ‘click, click, click…whoosh.’ and that’s the end. I get out of the first car with bumps, bruises and a sense of accomplishment.

I made it another day; I made it another ride.

Until next time,

Wait for me at the end.