Hotel Floor

Little did I know I would be spending up to the early hours of the morning crying my soul away on the bathroom floor of the hotel room.

Everything I was feeling got too much. All my bottled up emotions got the best of me and once triggered, came pouring out and would not stop. It started as a breakdown while in the shower, which turned into an agitated me, who could not sleep because of the noise from the TV that he was watching and unwilling to turn off. Which then turned into an annoyed me, who decided the best option is to take myself out of the situation and calm down before the worst me came out. The me I dreaded seeing.

I took a bath. It helped momentarily, I felt it soothing my body and relaxing every tense muscle from head to toe. But it wasn’t enough. Once I had returned to bed, lying listening to my own thoughts the anger had started to rise. I could feel it getting the best of me, and the unsympathetic body lying next to me was making it worse. What did I end up doing you ask? I make myself a bed in the bathroom. In a 5star hotel and I made my bed next to the toilet. Why?

Why do my emotions have to get the best of me, to the point I am willing to sleep on the freezing cold, wet floor? It’s unfair. From here everything starts back from the start. An upset me, followed by a heartbroken me, to lost, to miserable, to depressed, to an angry me. Whom I dread. Who only wants to hurt physically not mentally. The me who is willing to take away all the pain I am feeling inside and swap it for a broken knuckle, a swollen ankle.. anything besides the pain inside. To feel pain in a different way for once.

That’s when I began to loose myself.

T x

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