Found myself on the bathroom floor today. No, I didn’t have some sort of great awakening where I “found myself”. I was literally on the bathroom floor. For a few hours. Laying there, crying oceans onto the floor until I had no strength to get up. So I stayed. Thankfully, I have several rugs to soften the blow of that cold, ceramic tile. I wish I could say it was a beautiful thing, that my porcelain and freckled face was so pretty as tears rolled in perfect harmony with one another, that my nose stayed that cream color only seen on angel’s wings, that as I laid in the floor my hair draped beautifully and hid my sorrowful face. If only. It was ugly. Swollen face, red nose of Christmas proportions, hair plastered to my face, cemented there by the liquid sadness flowing from my green eyes. I don’t even remember going in there. I just remember hearing someone sobbing. The sound started as a soft cry, but grew into these guttural whimpers that were just painful. Reality hit as my head hit the floor, bringing me back to these tear drenched, heartbroken minutes making up my life right now. It was me. My cries. My pain. I don’t know how long I cried, but it was long enough to cause an ache in my stomach muscles rivaled only by the ache in the broken pieces of my heart. Strong, intense crying from the depths. Purging. Dehydrating. Soul cleansing.
When the flood finally ceased, my eyes were close to being swollen shut. Vision blurred, my corneas overwhelmed by their torrential baptism. Lips swollen, mouth as dry as dust. My body was limp. There was no strength left. I didn’t sleep last night at all. Restlessness and a hurting heart had driven me from my bed to the back deck outside. I sat in the gentle rain and watched the morning creep in. If I had slept, maybe I would have had the strength to pick myself up now and leave this unyielding floor. But it was too late and I was too tired… and too sad.
It’s funny what you notice when you’re laying on the bathroom floor. Laying curled up in the fetal position put me at eye level with the bathroom scale…that hateful instrument of torture. I wondered if I had lost any “water weight”. Buckets of tears…who knows? I noticed several dust bunnies. These are not the cute variety of bunnies. These are reminders that I desperately need to sweep. There was an earring I thought was lost forever. My brain told my arm to move and pick it up, but there was no response. I had nothing left. It’s still there.
Bored with the view, I found my thoughts wandering. When my mind is idle it can go to dark places. Instead, I try to count blessings. However, I didn’t want to think today. Hell, I didn’t want to breathe today, much less count blessings. Then a name popped into my head and I could see his face as plain as day. The friend who answered my desperate text for help at 4am. He-who-talked-me-off-the-ledge gives wise advice. His words have had many effects on me recently. I’m grateful to know him and have him in my life. Now that my sobs had ceased, I could listen to the silence. Peace. Calm. Much needed after the war my heart had waged in the early hours of this rainy morning. Another blessing. More of them began to parade themselves through my cloudy mind. Little miracles that I had been granted, helping me cultivate an attitude of gratitude.
My most treasured remembrance of the morning was when I forced myself to think of him, my Captain. I could feel the tears welling up again and I mentally scolded myself for even going there. If I’m going to get through these days without his presence in my life, I cannot shove it all deep within. So I began to think about our stolen minutes, sacred moments. I deliberately went over each time we were face to face, reliving, remembering, refusing to let go of him. As I smiled through a fresh shower of tears, I felt myself relaxing.
I knew I would eventually get up from the floor and be able to breathe again. Maybe I’ll end up back there tomorrow. Who knows? Sorrow and loneliness can drive us to desperate places…or maybe just to the bathroom floor.