Written by: Morgan Blair, Founder and Creative Director
Somewhere between 7:15 and 8:06 I found myself in a tailspin of wound-too-tight brain zaps, which left me lying on the floor, wrapped tightly in a blanket, and my fingers counting my pulse. And there among the dirty carpet and snotty tears, I found a flicker – not an explosion, not an awakening – but a flicker of goodness among all these minutes of personal anguish.
I was okay.
I was okay and I was going to be okay.
One. Two. Three breaths and I was halfway across the rickety bridge to whatever the other side of this journey had to offer. And perhaps that is how it goes. One night gives birth to the strength to fight another and another night gives you the strength to face a day. Then, before you even know it you’re doing it. Whatever “it” may be. But in the moment I was there. I was taken to a place where I was scared and hurting and unwilling to go on. For this reason, the moment was precious. I bottle it up and save it on my shelf as a trophy, gold, shiny, glittering with pride and accomplishments.
Victories are found in the quiet moments, the moments we are certain we cannot go on, and then we do. “The strongest warriors are the ones we know nothing about.” I read that quote the other day and shrugged it off. But as I lay here, heaving into the carpet, I think again. That quote is me and that quote is you. It is about anyone who has breathed through the night they didn’t think they could survive.
So, I turn off the lights and I stay on the floor until all my tears have dried. I fall asleep to the rhythm of my short distressed breaths. I have no dreams. No thoughts I can still muster up. But, then I wake up and feel a smile creep upon my lips. I get dressed and find a way to begin again.