return of the crazy lady

talking tfa. that's what i call it. it can't be helped. sometimes, it just happens.
NiragKadakia: joy. how is class going
NiragKadakia: this job is ridiculous
JoieTang: it is, isn't it?
JoieTang: i've lost my sense of humor again
JoieTang: it's been 4 days
NiragKadakia: HA
NiragKadakia: 4 days
JoieTang: indeed
JoieTang: i went two days
JoieTang: i took a day off because of a blinding migraine
JoieTang: and then went back today
JoieTang: and forgot, FORGOT when 2 of my classes ended, believing BOTH times that i had half an hour more than i actually had, when i've had the same schedule for 1.5 years
JoieTang: i've lost it
NiragKadakia: damn. that sucks
JoieTang: i actually started jumping up and down, in front of the class, with my hands on my head, and the kids were like "Ms. Tang, are you ok?"
i said, "no."
no, i was not ok. i can't quite explain it. do i care? yes, but it feels sometimes that i just can't remember why i care, or what it is that i care about. i'm so tired, for no real reason at all, whatsoever. i think i'm tired, because i care; i think i can't remember why i care because i'm tired. i'm tired of talking about me, and how i feel, and yet, here i am again, and again. i'm a second year teacher, and it is, it is, much better than last year. and i do love to teach, i promise, though you can't tell. and no, i'm not in denial.
but...if i could somehow explain what it means to not...know that you're making any kind of difference...and that you can't make that difference without destroying yourself. this is how i feel, i guess, and feelings are not always based on reality. but, i'm not here to talk about what is or is not.
what i want to say is just this: that everyday i'm faced with a seemingly impossible task, and the task's requirements seems to come down to a single choice -- my life or theirs? when i spend myself entirely, i can produce one good lesson. and then, that night and the next day, my body cries, because it is so tired. so other days, i go to bed, and produce lessons that, i think, would be good enough for another audience, but not for our kids -- not my kids, who need to be engaged, and nurtured, entertained and enriched, who need to expand their minds AND learn how to read. it's never enough.
tonight, i'm going to bed. does that mean that i've failed someone? in the world of tfa, it means that i have. but, truly, i don't think i can live every day of my life as if i'm fighting a war. how can i live a life, a civilian life, in which sleep itself is the crime?