Page 126 of Salute, To Bravery
“I need to get some sleep,” Ophelia said. “It’s three in the morning here.”
“Goodnight, my rose.”
“Goodnight, my daisy.”
Ophelia hung up the phone, and my entire demeanor changed. My breath became shallow. My eyes were darting in-between two objects on my coffee table, trying to focus but failing.
I wish I could do more. I wish I could be more.
The feeling of helplessness fell over me. Tears pierced my skin, leaving a trail of irritation.
After about five minutes of crying, I got up and went to the bathroom. I splashed some water onto my face and wiped my tears. Redness mangled my appearance.
I walked out of the half-bath and went back to my sage green couch. As I got back to work, my mind kept wandering back to the helpless feeling. A paralyzed, forlorn feeling sank into my stomach.
“There goes my grind,” I said to myself. “I can’t get behind.”
I grabbed my remote and turned on the TV. I turned on some music, mostly instrumental and video game music. I tried to putall my attention back into my work, but my mind gravitated to the unprotected world that Ophelia must be living in. She must be so scared, so exposed. I would hate to be in her position.
I couldn’t stop the feeling of guilt and shame from colliding in my stomach. Tears threatened to appear again, and I pushed them back. But it was holding a tsunami against a door. The guilt and rage paralyzed me.
I needed meditation.
I turned off the focus music and turned on a guided, five-minute calming meditation. As I was instructed, I started to visualize my safe place, the music store, and breathed deeply.
Relaxation demolished the guilt and helpless feelings in no time. After about five minutes, I was able to work again. I was able to get into the flow of things, answering emails, asking clients questions, and building their dream websites.
For the rest of the day, I sat on my couch and continued to design.
By the end of the day, I was exhausted. I took a quick shower and did another meditation, sent a quick goodnight text message to a few people, and fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter Eleven.
Ophelia
Iwoke up to the same annoying sound, To The Colors. I got up quickly but felt a heavy weight fall onto my chest. It wasn’t dizziness. It wasn’t exhaustion, well, physical exhaustion. It was something heavier than that. It was the tiredness of feeling like you didn’t belong. It was the tiredness of feeling weak and like you were failing—failing to feel happy and secure. Failing at life, it seemed like.
I put on my loose pants and tightened my waistband. Then, I put the tight shirt on my tiny body. My hair went into a low ponytail next. Quickly, I slid on the inflexible, hot combat boots.
I heard the next bell and ran to the cafeteria. Placing a smile on my face was . . . difficult. Pretending that I didn’t feel like I was suffocating had its challenges, but I knew I had to continue. I kept a smile as I walked through the lunch line. The smiles on the ladies’ faces were genuine. It broke my heart knowing that I was deceiving them.
This used to be the place where I felt most at home. Everyone knew it. I felt safe, secure, and familiar. I knew everyone. Even my sergeant knew this. I was being pushed, and I loved it.
But now, it wasn’t giving me the push that I needed. It was pulling me in the wrong direction. It was taking me down a path that I couldn’t follow. And it broke my heart.
The younger me would be so disappointed in what I’d become. Serving my country was my top priority, but now it wasn’t. I wasn’t sure what my top priority was. I thought I knew, but admitting I’d changed was scary.
The world around me changed. My parents changed. Even my cat has changed. But not me.
As of now, my top priority is myself and my relationships. I felt selfish. My priorities have changed, and that was healthy. Even though I know this, it does not feel that way.
The sight of my food made my stomach turn.My thoughts were still racing when I took a seat at an empty table.
What else has changed about me?
What else do I not know about myself?
What else is there?
