The Bathroom Floor

I have come to realize that the bathroom is my safe haven. The cold, unappealing, small, uncomfortable, bathroom floor is where I feel most safe when I am terrified of the outside walls that enclose me.

When I was in college, I use to have bad stomach aches. I mean, it was fucking brutal- which is a lot of the reason why I an terrified of having children, most importantly going into labor. I would escape to the bathroom, sometimes with my blanket and pillow and hail in pain right on the porcelain floor. Those moments, I felt that no one can see me, and no one would dare to come into the “bathroom” when it was occupied.

I feel that the bathroom floor is the only place where I cannot be seen from all angles. It is always small enough for me to be able to touch all four walls and every bathroom that I ever found myself in had the ability to lock the doors.

Yet again, and again, and fucking again! I found myself having a panic attack whilst working at my home computer. The urgency of my patients and their will to live, but their inevitability to die had gotten to me. I have been in close encounters with the dying for a year now- but yet, it never had become overwhelming.

I am overwhelmed. I am frustrated. I am sad. I am irritable. I cannot control the situation at hand. Therefore, panic crept on me like a snake does their prey. I instantly ran to my bathroom. No one was home- but my bathroom floor was my safe house. I fell on the floor, asking myself why. Why did I allow panic to win again? Why couldn’t I breath it out? The bathroom floor allows me to think, ask myself questions, and eventually calm myself down.

Ive come to the fucked up conclusion that Ill be okay as long as I can escape to a bathroom floor.

#overwhelmedasF #anxietygotmethistime #imstillworkingonit #iamtrying #imstilldoingbetterthanbefore #dustyourselfoff #tryagain

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