So the powers that be decided I should have Generalized Anxiety Disorder, all while making sure I had the type of career that would exacerbate just such a disorder. I work as a high school English teacher.

And, historically, I have done really well with this career, at least I think so, considering I am in my 29th year of it. (As an aside, I wonder, what will year 30 bring? Can I even make it? Should I end the career there, on a nice, round number?) All through the years, I have been the kind of teacher that kids really relate to, and they generally like me, not because I am a pushover, but because I know how great they are, and I don't let them get away with not showing it as much as possible.

My methods, however, are...atypical to say the least. Unorthodox. Revolutionary. Geez, do I sound conceited enough yet? Is it conceit, or is it self-awareness?

At any rate, my mental illness works counter to the expectations of my job. I have a hard time being around people, but as a teacher, I am constantly surrounded by up to thirty human beings at a time. And all these humans, essentially, are looking to me for guidance, for answers, for a reprieve from all the work and expectations.

Meanwhile, I am inundated with my own work and expectations.

Imagine that.

Admin, parents, society at large -- all expecting me to meet certain standards, to do certain things, to do things a certain way.

Yeah, right.

It's hard enough getting up in the morning. It's even harder to come up with something engaging, something entertaining, something worthwhile, something educational, ALL AT THE SAME TIME. Oh, and did I mention, I have to deliver this to and interact with a crowd of people that I have a hard time being around?

Don't get me wrong. Overall, I love the kids. They have always been and still remain the best part of the profession of teaching. However, my performance, my worth, is dictated by the performance by a cluster of young adults. How they behave, how they perform, how they feel -- all of these are what I am judged on, and my GAD always my sidecar.

Yippee.

So I carry this weight with me everywhere I go. What's the next lesson? Hell if I know. Maybe I'll figure it out ten minutes before class. Maybe I'll have it a day prior. Maybe I'll wing it once the kids show up.

This is no exaggeration -- all three of those scenarios have happened throughout the tenure of my career. Not only that, all three have happened this year. This. Year. Almost thirty years into a career.

Good thing I'm a goddamn genius. And I mean no immodesty there; again, I am self-aware. I have a gift, and that gift is engaging kids in ways that most teachers cannot. Sure, maybe every single moment is not chock-full of maximum education, but seriously, education is a joke most days. It is a process that takes sweeping moments, not snippets that disappear the moment they are assessed.

Oh, there I go, distracted again. Did I mention that, on top of GAD, I probably have ADD or ADHD as well. Do these count as mental illnesses as well? I should know this as an educator, right?

Learning Disability or Mental Illness. Is there a difference? Hell if I know? As much as I love to be pedantic and parse such differences, I am better at doing that with etymology or poetry or literary discourse. I'd rather use my potential autism in those areas than differentiating between LD and MI.

Are those official acronyms? Does it matter? Did you know that a true acronym is one that spells an actual word? Is that more ADD or ADHD? I've never been diagnosed, so I guess no. But I was raised in an era that predates the whole explosion of ADD and ADHD, so who knows. (Only the Shadow knows! Oh, can I use this as evidence of ADD or ADHD?)

See where my GAD has taken me? Avoiding it. I'm not in denial -- that would be just silly, given my knowledge. But I avoid it. A survival technique? Are we talking actual, literal survival, or societal?

Societal Survival -- Band name? Album title? Memoir? TED Talk? College course? Episode of The Walking Dead?

All of the above?

So now you have a sense of where my brain goes, or went, at least. Do I have a mental illness? It's important, contextually, since the prompt addressed it.

However, I have only been diagnosed with the GAD. In this day and age, is it really a big deal? Seems like everyone has it, or will develop it.

Did I only have it once I was diagnosed, or did I have it all along and not know it? If I didn't know it, did I really have it? Do I really have it?

Of course I do. The question is, Do I handle it appropriately?

I don't know. And there are a couple reasons for that. One is that I have not been to a therapist for a number of years now. What's the number of years? Hell if I know. You'd have to ask my insurance company.

The other is this. I talked about my GAD, and my poTENtial ADD or ADHD. And my poTENtial autism.

I haven't even broached the topic(s) of the other mental illnesses I have been diagnosed with.

Just so you know, for whatever it's worth, as if you needed another avenue toward pathos, I have also been diagnosed with Dysthymia (a low-grade form of depression that is persistent and resistant to established modes of therapy), as well as SAD (seasonal affective disorder).

I mean, it's not ALL bad, right?

Although, if you check the date of this posting, you should notice that it is happening shortly before the winter solstice.

But hey, like Howard Jones once said, "things will only get better."

Right