The bathroom breakdown

What is it about bathrooms?  Elizabeth Gilbert had her infamous breakdown in a bathroom.  There was even the famous, pivotal point in Jerry Maguire with Tom Cruise begging Cuba Gooding, "Help me to help you" scene in...wait for it...yes, the bathroom.  (Ok. It was a locker room, but pretty darn close.)  You know what I'm talking about, and you know that you've been there, too.  I remember the first time I found myself uncontrollably sobbing on the bathroom floor.  It was 1998, and in a chic Beverly Hills hotel where I was attending a work offsite.  It naturally involved a guy, someone I had had a secret crush on who hadn't been flirting with me that day.  I had convinced myself that it was never going to happen, and I was going to be alone FOR-EVER.  (This issue require a whole, separate blog...!)  When I returned to my room that night, I took one look in the bathroom mirror and started gushing.  It was one of those cries where I could only take intermittent breaths and a walrus-like sound seemed to be coming from me.  I had no idea I could produce such a sound.  The next morning, I woke with blood-shot, puffy eyes which presented a dilemma - do I put on more eye make-up to try to cover it up or will that draw more attention to them?  I tried to find middle ground.  When I entered the meeting, one of the directors commented, "Brooke clearly had a little too much to drink last night!"  It was the first time ever that I was thankful to look hung-over.  Of course, my close friend, Ali, wasn't fooled.  She pulled me aside and said, "You had a good cry last night, didn't you?"  Damn, she's good.  How did she know?  She knew because she had been there, too, proving that I wasn't the only one.

This leads me to today.  I'd say that I was batting .500 when it came to days where I could breathe and days where I couldn't find my breath.  I hadn't broken down but could tell that I was adjusting to this new way of life.  It was everything I could do to tell myself that this is the moment that I, and almost every other working individual, had longed for - time off and to do anything I wanted.  However, the panic, the unknown, and ultimately, the shame wrapped around me like a boa constrictor.  It was only a matter of time, and I knew a good cry was lurking beneath the surface.

So, what set it off?  Yep, you know it - the shame and embarrassment gremlins were feeding on my psyche.  I sent a text to my mentor and dear friend about my decision to leave The Company.  Technically, I had made my decision before I learned that I didn't get the fourth and final job I had interviewed for, but it still would have felt A LOT better if I could have been able to turn it down.  Granted, I could have held that power if I had sent the email that I was withdrawing my candidacy.  What's done is done.  Back to the cry, I felt like I had let my mentor down when she had gone to bat for me each and every time.  All of a sudden, I found myself sitting on my bathroom floor, back against the tub with my head between my knees and snot running faster than Michael Johnson in the 200m.  It's funny what snaps you out of a state like that.  First, I noticed the paint chipping on the wall behind the hot water pipes.  Then, my phone rang, and I saw it was my mom.  A mom talk could go either way.  I really was in no mood to talk, but still answered.  Knowing that the echo of the bathroom would give my emotional state away, I moved into my living space - carpet and outside noises that flooded the room could buffer any waver in my voice.  I got through the call, but the tears returned the minute I hung up.

That's when I knew to 'phone a friend.'  The debate was, which friend?  I opted for the one who had originally spotted and understood the 'bathroom breakdown' - Ali.  I left her a voicemail in my best 'chin-up' voice.  A few minutes later, my phone rang.  As I started to tell her what was going on, she reminded me of the advice I had given her just months ago - I wasn't meant to get any of those four jobs because something better is out there for me.  I'm meant to be on this journey, this is my path.  These events were meant to happen and for me to learn from them.  Granted, I'm getting a little sick and tired of these "learning lessons," but I know that there are more around the bend.  Swell.  Now, however, I feel like I have a better hold on the life-raft that is careening through these rapids instead of feeling like I'm about to fall into the river.  Amazing what one phone call can do.

After my brief, yet very beneficial talk with Ali, I pulled myself together and set out...to buy shoes.  THAT always makes a girl happy.

And, here's a way to think about it from Dr. Seuss:

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."

I will smile.  I know that.