It's no secret I've struggled this summer. The lack of routine and infinite free time to think set my anxiety on overdrive. Add in my attempts at dating and I'm sure you can see how I could go from loving the freedom of the holidays, to suffocated by the expanse of nothing stretching ahead.

Ever wary of my triggers, I hadn't anticipated this one. So I guess at least now I know! I really do need to stay active and keep busy. So that's what I did. I popped off to stay in a yurt for a few nights, went lavender picking I even went for a walk in the forest I've lived 10m from my entire adult life. But when the dust settled and I had had one too many rejections, I still wasn't feeling like me. So I talked to a friend (more than one actually), who listened to me cry for over an hour before I fell asleep on his sofa, but ultimately I knew I needed to sort this out myself.

And as fate would have it, I’d already signed on to volunteer with the same group I sat my 10 day silent mediation in Malaysia in July last year. Sometimes I really do think the world works to help you out when you need it most. I had signed up to serve, to help a group of 250 people experience the sheer peace that I found in Malaysia last year. I'm not sure what I expected really, a bit of cleaning, maybe help in the kitchen; certainly I assumed there would be lots of mediation.
But what I actually experienced was a world away from what I expected.

Firstly I want to lay out the rules; this time round they were slightly different from when you sit the course. Most obviously is you can talk, but your speech should be “noble “ – no swearing, gossiping, singing, humming, whistling, lying or shouting. There are no phones, no internet, no books, Male and female are divided everywhere but the kitchen and everyone who serves sits 3.5 hours of mediation everyday. You literally stop whatever you are doing and head to the mediation hall.

So I turned up a day early ready to help and needing a peaceful place to get back to my happy place and it kind of was. I'm disappointed in myself for letting my mediation slip gradually to a few minutes here and there. The sessions immediate sent me internal to feel who I was and where I was. A sense of peace drifted itself over me after the first day. But it wasn't quite smooth sailing.

On day 2 I was asked to be the kitchen manager, not really knowing what that was I agreed wanting to help in whatever way I could. It turns out the kitchen manager is responsible for the entire kitchen; getting food out, preparation for the next day, organising the kitchen team, health and safety, seting up the dining rooms; even taking meals to the teachers. It was NOT a small job. I was supposed to be trained for 2 days but the person I was relieving was ill and had to take 4 days off, so I got the equivalent of half a day! So its just Me, a kitchen, a very detailed recipe book, 10 other volunteers and 250 mouths to feed. It was initiation by fire (literally when we set a box of matches alight).

I think it took 3 days for me to be ready to go home, I had had a confrontation with another volunteer who didn't like being told what to do and believed they'd be better than me. I didn't ask for the job, I didn't even want it, I was stressed. I spent my only break in the day (we have 30 mins for each meal and 1.5 hours after lunch, otherwise it's 9 hours of working) crying my eyes out and planning how to get home. But was this not the exact thing I had been worried about starting work again? I've been petrified I won't be able to handle the stress and here I am in a stressful situation, not handling it. I needed to see if I could do it.
It's a gorgeous atmosphere in these places, you're never really alone, just when you think lunch is going to be late, 3 more people will turn up to help you finish everything off, even though they're on the cleaning team not kitchen, or its their day off. So I let my stress be known, I asked for help (not something I do very often) and help came. It was there in the words of encouragement, the random helpers, the innocuous conversation and the late night motivational speeches.

Before I knew it the course was over and I had survived. Everyone was fed, the food was even complimented and most importantly no one got food poisoning (my food hygiene certificate from way too many years ago clearly helped). It wasn't the peaceful escape I wanted, but it was the stress test I needed. I feel like if I can handle that, I can handle anything.

I’ve been home a week now and while I've not kept that busy my anxiety has been almost non existent. I learnt that I don't need other people to be happy and that's easy to forget; especially with modern dating and social media. I just need to accept everything as it is and let my path unfold, wherever it may take me.
And possibly take a few brakes from my phone a bit more often! I can't tell you how freeing it was to turn it off for 12 days! No facebook, Twitter, WhatsApp, Google (we had to ask other people for answers to our questions) or even texts and calls. Modern liberation. I highly recommend unplugging for a day or 2.

It’s Friday the 13th and while that’s unlucky for some, for me it’s my last day of term: 7 weeks off. I think that’s pretty lucky!

I have been back in the country for 8 weeks, at work for 5 weeks and I’m popping over to Croatia on Sunday for a family wedding; missing the last week of term. But these last 5 weeks have done exactly what they were intended to do: ease me back in.
From day 1 it was already like I’d never left, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: “kids are kids no matter where in the world they are”. They are funny, resilient, brave, silly, annoying and a million other things in between. They are also dealing with things some of us can’t even begin to imagine. I get copied into the emails I see the problems these boys face, even the ones I don’t teach. I’m reminded why I came back, why I went back into teaching, why I truly love what I do.

It wasn’t easy coming in and having to assert myself from the outset, with little guidance about what is expected of me, I was given a lot of free reign. The support was there if I needed it and the department I work with are fantastic, but it was very much my classes and therefore my decisions. Which I loved. I had great easy classes of top set students and some very difficult classes. But I don’t give up easily I’m definitely a trier. I gave up almost every lunch and most afterschools with these students holding detention after detention and I gained some level of control, they listened better and worked harder. But on my last lesson with them after I attempted to do a fun pub quiz style game with them: they couldn’t stay on task, disruptive as I’ve ever seen them and LOUD. So it was my last lesson of the term with them had us doing maths from the board in silence (or as close to it as I could get), various students in other classroom and me left feeling a sense of losing the battle. Because I did lose the battle. I told a friend once if you scream at them, you’ve lost. And I screamed.

But that’s not how I remember the day! I had a fantastic class building sweet and toothpick towers, using the plikars app and giving out prizes. Because that is what teaching is. You have really bad lessons and really good lessons, but none of that defines the day. You have to search for the good and hold on to it. That last lesson could have soured my entire experience but it didn’t, it didn’t even stop me reusing that resource, I just finished another lesson who did fabulously with the pub quiz.

One of my favourite sayings is: “it’s all swings and roundabouts”
We are always having highs and lows, ups and downs, going round and round on a never ending wheel. Until we jump off and look back. See the bigger picture.

I’m heading into the summer excited for September. I have a new TLR, a first aid course to look forward to, a new class room, a new form and lots of plans I want to make a reality. Just typing all of that made me appreciate how far I’ve come in the last 5 weeks and I have the whole summer to develop myself, learn new things I can teach the students and prepare myself mentally to cope with the stresses of teaching. Not forgetting of course, a little traveling around Croatia – I’ll even be there for their world cup final! So it didn’t come home, it came pretty close!

I’ve been back in school a week and a half and already it feels as if I never left. Rushing around all day with kids asking a million questions, pens disappearing at an alarming rate and that one class that drives me mad.

Maybe starting with 5 weeks till summer sounded great when I realised I get paid over the summer, but right now cementing myself in the role of teacher is a farce of kids pushing boundaries. I forgot what it was like having to battle for the respect I had earned so long ago. Most students think I’m supply and that I’ll be gone soon, those that know I’m here to stay are trying to see what they can get away with. And me? I’m exhausted.
I like to have a bit of fun with my classes, connect with them and tailor my lessons to their needs. But right now I’m in full on strict mode. Everything is getting pulled up, I’m giving them rules they haven’t had all year and the battle is real. But if I know anything, I WILL win!

I knew it wouldn’t be easy coming to a new school, you have to assert yourself. Prove you are a good teacher worth their respect (students and staff). I hadn’t even met my department before I started as I was so far away. So nobody knew what to expect. As hard as it is though, carving out my place here, I'm loving every single second. I love the routine, seeing them get something I’ve explained. I love the extra curricular and running around in the sun on sports day. I love helping the trainee teachers prep for their observations. And I really love those 3 minutes I manage to get my noisy class to be quiet.

As confidently as I can after a week and a half, I’m going to say that I really like my school too. I already have friends here, it’s small and the boys are fairly well behaved and the head teacher respects your work life balance; compensating weekend trips with days back or organising them in school time.

Guys, I think I’m going to be very, very happy here; if not a bit more tired for a while until I adjust back to this working malarkey.

Is been almost 2 weeks since I returned home. Since I boarded my last plane and finally unpacked my backpack. I slept in my own bed, showered in my own bathroom and had a home cooked meal. It’s been 7 days of getting a SIM card, seeing long lost friends, organising my memories into a scrap book and being smothered in my parents love.
It’s strange now looking back, it already feels like this distant memory, that I have to keep reminding myself really did happen. You lose touch with home when you travel, but when you get home you lose touch with traveling. It’s the small things that I noticed at first. Always having the fridge full and I could take anything ( no labels saying keep out!), or how quiet it is at night when there aren’t 5 other people in your room. How I can leave my toiletries in the shower and no one will steal them. But those only lasted a couple of days. It really is incredible how quickly these things become the new normal.
Now my trip to the supermarket was something else. Firstly, when we walked in my friend picked up a scanner, I was very confused, they scanned items as they put them into the trolley! Then when they went to pay they just touched their phone on the pad. THEIR PHONE! I seriously felt like I’d come back to some futuristic time. I was still paying with cash everywhere!
But even that becomes normal eventually. It definitely took a few days, but it seems like everyone does it and perhaps, soon, so will I. But it has me worried. If all that can change in the general world, has the teaching world changed so much too?
I’m excited for my new job to start in 2 weeks. I have so many ideas and I can’t wait to be teaching again, but a small part of me is worried I won’t remember what to do or ill say something I shouldn’t, almost like being an NQT again! And another not quite as small part of me worries that I'll succumb to the stress of the job again (I think my mum’s is worried with me on that one – hence the smothering). There is only one way to settle my nerves, however, and that is just to jump straight back into it.
So I’m going to enjoy my last week of freedom while eagerly anticipating my new job and reminiscing about the trip that definitely did happen!

I’m sitting here waiting to board my plane. I’m heading home. Finally. When I go to sleep next it will be in my own bed, in my own room.
It doesn’t quiet feel real. None of it does. Not the fact that I’m coming home, or that I’ve been gone for a year and a half; over 500 days. I know when I get home it will feel like I never left, I’m already starting to feel it. My best friend told me after returning from her travels, that life goes back to normal and you just fit back in to a world that is largely the same. That, sounds like the biggest tragedy of all.
I know I can’t stop travelling now, but there’s places closer to home I’ve yet to explore. I’ve never been to Ireland, I’ve barely been to Scotland. There’s places in England I’ve never been – the lake district, the peak district. The list is endless. I’ll probably spend the rest of my life exploring this planet, just in smaller chunks. Now, I’ve got all these memories to keep, keep me happy, keep me focused on life and what really matters.
I want to be able to write this blog and reflect back on my trip, tell you how amazing and life changing it has been, give you the highlights and lowlights. But I can't squeeze 500 days into one blog, however long it is. To explain my trip would take 500 days. Some of you will hear stories over the years and assume you know all there is to know and then 10 years down the line I’ll tell you something new. That's how it works. So when I pause after being asked “tell me all about it!” its because I can't and sometimes just processing that questions takes me back to another time or another place.
So since I can't tell you how I feel adequately, I'm going to do what I need to do. Say thank you. Because, boy, there are a lot of people to thank.
To those who made it possible to leave. My parents who were so encouraging before and during, who encouraged me to spend all my money and enjoy my trip. To my friends who pulled me out of the darkness and into the light, I'd never have left without them. To the friend who was there with cuddles and food and wine and who followed me into Asia and beyond. And thank you to everyone who stayed in touch while I was gone, you were fewer than you think.

While I was gone there were hundreds of people I connected with, some for a day, some for a month; but they all meant something. Thank you to every single person who made their story part of my story, because monologues are boring. To those I never knew before, to those I've known forever but rarely get to see. To the family that became friends and the friends that became family. More than a few people welcomed me into their homes and I wish I could thank them individually, because after months in hostels a home is something not to be taken for granted and I for one can't wait to get back to mine.
As my plane takes off I'm not sad to leave, I'm excited to see what life has in store for me, because, as my Cambodian tattoo says: it seems to me we have a lot of story yet to tell;

There's been a lot on Twitter and in the news about the retention crisis, a lot of teachers aren't lasting 5 years in the profession; some don't even finish their NQT year. The government is trying to solve the teacher shortage with plans to recruit more teachers, but recruitment is nothing without retention. I'm not going to suggest ways the government can retain teachers because, honestly, what do I know? I'm not in leadership, neither have I ran a department or a school. My advice its to anyone considering quiting and its simple. Try a new school.

We all start our training with 2 schools, our A and B placements, but for some people that will be the only experiences they have of different schools. Just this week I spoke to 3 teachers who had quit within 5 years of starting, none of them had worked at more than one school. New teachers worry about getting a job so much they accept an offer from their placement school and stay there. Assumptions are made about the entire profession based on those 2 schools. I'm obviously completely different, I've worked at 3 schools!

My A placement was a Catholic all girls school. The kind of school a teacher goes to and literally never leaves. The students were lovely; hard working, well behaved, actively participated in school life. The leaders were supportive, caring and there was real culture of love. Plus it was petty well funded. So let's just say I got a good idea of how great teaching as a whole can be. But my B placement was a whole different story.
I don't know what set me on the path to depression and I can't pin point exactly when it started, but I do know that after my B placement I was a shadow of my former self. The thing I remember most is how empty the staff room always was. At my A school you had to fight for a chair at lunch, here it was a ghost town. I had a few other trainees to talk to but otherwise I only ever saw my maths colleagues. A teacher had left the year before and so the department was a member of staff down, enter me. I was used as a cover teacher for a mid set class with behaviour issues (I later found out that the teacher who left had the top set, but this class’s teacher traded for them). Their previous teacher gave me resources that would be helpful and some tips on seating. It turns out they had already used the resources I had been given (by their previous teacher). The head of department kept popping his head in, which would have been great if he didn't chase this up by telling me I looked terrified. He offered to do an observation and give me suggestions, which I jumped at. However, he graded the lesson using Ofsted standards at the time, not trainee ones, giving me a 4 (the lowest). Needless to say I was distraught. I was already falling apart outside school, the only time I left the house was to go to work and that was making things a whole lot worse. Luckily B placement only lasted 6 weeks (a very short term) and I was back in the loving embrace of A placement. Ofcourse the road I was on to depression didn't stop but that's not the point of this story.

The school I had my B placement at not 6 months later closed down as it failed its Ofsted, the teachers left in droves – while I was there someone said the teachers were leaving like rats abandoning a sinking ship. It was by all standards a ‘bad’ school. But I knew that not all schools were like that. I had seen the other side.

My third school, where I actually had a job through my NQT year and a bit after that, started out great. The teachers were friendly, passionate, cared about the kids and most importantly made substantial use of the staff room. This has come to be the way I judge a school, a staff that avoids the staff room, in my opinion, is one that is either overworked or not happy or both. I had friends at the school and I loved comming into work, we had staff socials that were well attended, I was happy.

I had one term with the original head before they retired and a new one was employed (that old head was actually my mum, but again, not the point). The difference was like night and day. Policies were changed, the ethos of the school was overhauled and my ideal workplace became a distant memory. Behaviour went downhill, yearheads were forbidden from having lunches and forced to go on duty (the union rep resigned and no one stood up to the tyranny), the staff room became more and more empty (since I left three had actually removed the sofas and put in chairs). Staff began leaving, going off for stress and having breakdowns in front of the kids.

It was time to leave, I knew where this road led. I had just begun my recovery and that was the most important thing to me. I'd allways wanted to travel and so that's what I did, but I also always knew I'd go back. I love teaching and I know that the right school is out there, I'm willing to look for it. If I have to change schools a hundred times to do it I will. The way I see it, the longest you have to stay at a school is 2 terms, based on when you hand your notice in. But if it's that bad, break contract. Gone are the days where a school wouldn't employ someone who had broken contract, if you're good and you love the job you'll find another school, hopefully a better school. Your health is THE most important thing.

So my advice? Don't quit yet. Try another school, and another and another. If you love the teaching part, if you love the kids; then the right school is out there. And when you're looking...
Start with the staff room.