I think I’m suffering PTSD
Post Teaching Stress Disorder
because it doesn’t seem twenty years to me
since I was having a breakdown trying to keep order

even now I’ll wake in a sweat
after dreams of bells and empty chairs
surrounded by books I haven’t marked yet
a tsunami of kids coming up the stairs

“you’ve got to give it at least five years
to find your practical teaching face”
well I managed two till it ended in tears
yelling and failing all over the place

teaching had been the ace up my sleeve
I could play when things got tough
but it took something more than self belief
and a love of English wasn’t enough

now I get triggered by random phrases:
smart board, seating plan, register
I’ll flinch and duck and my heart just races
if somebody smiles and calls me sir

so thumbs up to teachers! all the best!
I could never be brave like you
striding out front, smiting your breast
saying those who are about to teach, salute you