The Floor
written by: MTB Mum
I sat on the floor of the only room I could not be disturbed in. Just need to be on my own. Leaning back on the wall, I let go and allowed myself to feel the pain I was in. The pain that so often clouds my thoughts, the pain that so often blurs the lines between what would help and what would not. The pain so deep rooted and familiar, yet so unwelcome and foreign, it catches my breath every time.
It’s been this way for a long time, but lately the respite is minutes or hours, not days and weeks. I stare at the corners of the room noticing imperfections you wouldn’t know were there, unless you sat on the floor. A little like life. I have reached the floor, down here I notice the imperfections of my fragile plan to stay happy and healthy.
On the floor I consider the options, get up or lie down. I know I will get up, but the urge to lie down, is strong.
