I was crying more and more frequently. Not at school, but at home after work. I felt increasingly despairing. One colleague in the department of 15 or so was signed off work "with stress", the latter part uttered in lowered tones, as though it were something shameful.

A day’s absence meant increased workload for the rest of the department: cover work, of course, or if it had already been set, checking that the work was suitably challenging, yet accessible; increased vigilance around department corridors and with potentially unlocked rooms; checking in with the cover teacher at least once per lesson; and helping with behaviour procedures as needed.

A longer-term absence meant planning and resourcing the lessons, making it easy enough for a non-specialist to cover the material but ensuring that no child would be disadvantaged at the lack of qualified staff.

It was hard and I felt bruised. I didn’t know what I needed; looking back, I think I needed a break from "coping" and being strong. See, negativity was seen as lack of enthusiasm, which could affect the children. Stay positive and somebody might notice how incredibly well you’re doing: how tough, how tenacious.

"Resilient" was the word used to praise staff who kept going in difficult times.

I wanted that. I wanted desperately to be seen as resilient: I was experienced, good at all aspects of the job, doing extra, taking on more. Somehow, I lived in the hope that somebody would notice this and bestow the coveted label upon me. That I might be known throughout the school as resilient.

I can’t remember whether anyone did notice, in the end. I’m not sure if I ever attained that label. And that perhaps shows how meaningless the whole exercise was: the thing I wanted the most, the possibility of being seen as a "coper" at the expense of my crumbling mental health, the facets of my identity narrowed in pursuit of senior leadership noticing how incredibly well I was coping even with added difficulty.

It seems particularly important that I write this now. A colleague mentioned that another member of the department has been signed off. I remember how many other members of that department are struggling with their own mental health whilst simultaneously chasing crumbs of praise from leaders who might notice. Personally, I wish I’d taken time to heal because, in the end, "coping" ended up damaging me more than "not coping" ever would have.

The writer left secondary mainstream teaching last year