Bathroom Stall…

I don’t know what to write. This sadness is inexplicable and wrapped with all sorts of other warped feelings. Well, I’m not sure if they’re warped. I went home a failure on Tuesday. I went to the mall first, sat in a bathroom stall and cried a little, for some time. I’d never really failed at anything, and I wasn’t going to cry on-site so I chose a bathroom stall in the corner of the ladies in a mall. I just needed to let it out. That feeling. God I hate that feeling.

My heart was stuttering. Half beats and some full ones. A heavy empty feeling.

Damn it. Damn it! DAMN IT!

You helped though. We weren’t meant to talk and you called by chance and thank God you did or I would’ve stayed there for hours. You got me out of that negative place and talked me into letting go of at least one negative thought. You helped. In 9 minutes you had me out of the stall and washing my face. You’re always so sweet. Always.

Though you got me to calm down the flutters would still come back and that emptiness…how can emptiness be so crushing?

More negative self talk. More negative self talk! MORE NEGATIVE SELF TALK!

Pathetic. Pathetic! PATHETIC!

When I’m down I’ll curl up into ball and beat myself up for not getting back up fast enough. With all of that noise all I need is some sweetness. Some TLC. Trust me, whichever speech anyone has prepared,  I’ve probably already given myself the more ruthless version.

Tell me it’s okay. Hold me! TELL ME THAT EVERYTHING isn’t as bad as it seems…

You don’t. You refuse to. You want to be there for me on your terms. You want to do it your way…or you won’t be there at all.

So selfish.

It’s fine. I’ll find comfort elsewhere.

At least someone is always there to help me find my way.  To help me get out of the bathroom stall and to the sink to wash my face.

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