no one tells you that your first (hypo)manic episode
reaches its peak in a middle school / first year teaching / fresh off a “medical leave”/ three hours of sleep / character spirit day / dressed as Orpheus from Hadestown / red bandana necktie and suspenders / after the lesson a student raises his hand / says you’re talking really fast
your assistant principal comes in to observe / leaves too early / (it’s clear you’re unwell) / you have Google Meet running and recording at the same time you’re teaching / it’s January 2021 and some kids are quarantined / everyone wears a mask not up to medical grade / some students defy by uncovering their noses / you have to be “on” all the time as a teacher / almost failed student teaching because you didn’t walk around monitoring and cried too much
you meet with your principal after school / trying to be prepared / to not be put on a “medical leave” again / (you are sure you are okay) / asking about the next year’s schedule / the year you will never teach / an army of sticky notes / writing furiously / you can’t keep thoughts long enough in your memory / blame your rapid speech and lack of breath on the compression bra that completes the boyish look
you call your parents that night / blab about how you think you experienced trauma in a preschool you briefly attended / your parents ask what meds they have you on / why are you talking so fast?
and also you are convinced you have ADHD / spent time chatting breathlessly with the teacher who has it / that’s why your working memory is shit / that’s why you make reminders and then forget them while teaching / that’s why
it’s actually true
you have ADHD
but it’s not for another seven months
(five after official resignation)
will your psychiatrist bring up
hypomania
reverse your flow of dopamine
a medication change that leaves you
waking up in loud gasps after
passing out on the floor of a hotel bathroom
no one tells you that this whole episode is
a trauma
you will unravel for
years.
