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A Blogazine, based out of Park Slope, Brooklyn, that features fun and interesting articles. Topics include: parenting, society, real estate, career, style, spirituality and more. Written contributions are always welcome!


Tuesday, December 23, 2008

When You’re Crying On The Bathroom Floor (Literally and/or Metaphorically)



I've spoken to a variety of women this year about their hopes for 2009. It's been a tough year for many. Some worried they would never find their soul mates, others have had financial difficulties that have bought them to their knees, a multitude of my friends were layed-off and still others struggled to redefine themselves while juggling commitments and not selling out in the process. Let's face it, it's been a tough year and with the economic situation not showing signs of improving soon, we're all bracing ourselves for a a bumpy ride in 2009 too.

Jennifer Garam, over at One Writeous Chick has written a wonderful post that offers encouragement, hope and wisdom to all of us that are carrying burdens into the new year. Jennifer always manages to write stories that are familiar in their honesty and purity. Here is part of her post:

I’ve noticed that a lot of prominent self-help experts have one Dark Night of the Soul when they hit Rock Bottom, have some Great Realization, and then quickly and permanently turn their lives around, whereby they write a New York Times Bestseller, buy a mansion, meet the love of their lives, and vacation, frequently, in tropical destinations. I’ve had, like, 87 Dark Nights of the Soul, and I don’t have any of those things. Each time, I keep hoping that this will be the last one, that I will finally “figure it all out” and “get everything together,” and commence living a life filled with only joy and ease.


I cried on the bathroom floor long before Elizabeth Gilbert popularized that particular pastime in one of my favorite books Eat, Pray, Love. Reading about some of her experiences, I found an “Oh, I’ve been there!” recognition, and comfort. In early 2001, I wound up tear-soaked and slumped on the tiles of my Upper East Side bathroom floor after months of having been broken up with my ex-boyfriend, still feeling like it was only Day 1 post-break-up and I would never get over him. One night this summer, when I was crying myself to sleep in bed, I dragged myself to the bathroom floor to really go for it and get the full dramatic effect. At the beginning of this week, I plunked myself down on the floor in front of my refrigerator, but it wasn’t nearly as effective. The bathroom floor is where you go when you hit the bottom and break, and simply cannot take anymore pain.

Read this complete post by clicking on: ONE WRITEOUS CHICK.