Shower to cover the sobs

I made sure all the kids had used the bathroom and were occupied by a movie, whose power was more effective because the television had been off for a few days. 

Mechanically I ticked off the steps in my mind. 

1) Close the bathroom door. 

2) Turn on the shower, and remove all bath toys and toy whales from the bath tub. 

3) Close the shower curtain. 

Then, despite all signs that I may remain stuck on the floor of the bath tub once I got there, I curled up on the floor of the bath tub and sobbed.  Ugly, snotty, swamp monster face sobs. Sobs that took away my breath and crushed my chest. Sobs that physically hurt. That wouldn't stop coming, barreling over me with their own destination in mind. 

Overwhelming grief, guilt, and pain flooded my brain with thoughts that spiraled and jumped almost beyond cognitive recognition. I cried to God in desperation and hoped he would hear my thoughts and prayers despite my complete inability to voice them aloud.

My beautiful oldest daughter had been on my mind all day. I am so proud of her for running away, and that is such a truly terrible thing to say. But she was in a situation that she felt was unacceptable and that she couldn't bear any longer, largely due to how she felt was I treating her and my unrealistic expectations, and so she left. 

I wish she had done it differently. I still don't think she realizes how incredibly stupid it was, or how incredibly lucky she is.  I am afraid of the consequences it will have in the future with the rest of the kids when they hit those tumultuous teenage years. 

I was a terrible mother to her in many ways, though I treasured her deeply. I didn't mean to be a bad mother to her. I was trying really hard to do my best. It just didn't work out that way. I want to reach out to her, but know that right now, she would push me away and hurt me more. 

So I will write letters to her, and keep them until it is the right time. Someday they will be read or be burned, but hopefully my thoughts of love, my wishes for her soul to find joy and peace, hopefully those will travel and make it to her. 

I cried for all these realizations and self discovery that I am having forced upon me.  I have repeatedly chosen men in my life who characteristically resemble my father, and they, like my father, have not treated me well. I didn't purposely choose them that way, and I think on some subconscious level I did with a desire for them to take care of me. An inner longing to have the abused and neglected child that still lives inside me finally be nurtured and cared for. 

So I can identify that. Now what do I do with it?

I floundered and stood up, still shaking from sobs but desperately needing to breathe. 

For now, that is all I will do. Breathe.