A Teacher’s Silent Struggle on the Toilet Floor – Behind the Bipolar Mask
When life is overwhelming, a retreat to the bathroom for some toilet therapy can ease the angst and emotional turmoil of mood swings.
I’m writing this lay on the toilet floor.
The disabled toilet outside the staff room in the school I teach at.
Why am I here?
I need a moment.
Sometimes an aching within my chest burns. Behind my ribs, deep down within my chest.
A dull, long ache.
I take a breath. It does not pass.
I pride myself on keeping myself “together” in work. At least in recent times. At this work.
To do so is imperative for they do not know.
An uneasy thought creeps into my mind.
Is this the beginning of my mask slipping?
Will I soon need to move workplace? (again)
The children are due back in from lunch time any moment now. Yet here I am.
Rooted to the toilet floor.
Are these tiles cold or are they damp? Wet or not, I stay still upon the floor ‘cept for my chest rising and falling.
Outside the bathroom, I can hear laughter from within the staff room. Colleagues socialising at lunch.
I’m an outsider. I don’t fit in.
They don’t understand.
They don’t know.
Some people would seriously question my sanity lying on the toilet floor.
Unhygienic.
Dirty.
Strange.
But this toilet has become my place of safety.
Nobody will bother me here.
A thought pops into my head. I could have a nap if I wanted.
Sometimes sleep helps ease my emotional turmoil. Slow the rollercoaster of thoughts. Today, though, it is an ache that needs easing.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The kids are back. I can hear them on the stairs.
I need to pull myself together. Lift myself off the cold, tiled floor. Drag myself down the corridor to the room of darling children eager to learn. Or mischievous terrors.
One last breath.
Gather myself.
Two more hours the children will be gone.
Keeping going when the emotions are running wild and my mood is swinging can be challenging. I’ve recently written about a panic attack on my way to work you can read about that here: