Anatomy of a meltdown

How do I explain the sudden inability to maintain? To follow through with plans made? How can I detail out this process of what occurs to bring me to the point of meltdown?

Waking up late, kiddo not finding her swimsuit, not able to get breakfast before work, realize she left her phone at home which means a trip back after work because I can’t turn around right now. Plans for smooth transition fucked.

Make do with some peanut butter crackers until we can get lunch. Get lunch. Maintain masking for work. Run interference for kiddo because she’s so sweet she never meets a stranger but that isn’t always professional and she likes to infodump to complete strangers.

Leave work, deal with the tail end of rush hour traffic. It’s an hour in the car there and back. Have to get her phone AND a change of clothes.

Headache. Hungry.

Get to friend’s house. Doggo! Happiness. Cat. Allergies. People. Stress. Social expectations. More stress. Don’t offend because I actually like this friend. Mask. Mask. Mask. She says I don’t have to but I do because I have to talk, to listen, because she needs it. Adding up.

I like this person, so I want to. Allergies kick because of cat. Take Benadryl. It’s getting harder. Gotta go to the store. Chaos. Can’t keep up because I can’t move that fast. Too many twists and turns, too sudden.

Benadryl is making me really sleepy. Can’t sleep.

Get dinner. Get back to friend’s house. Eat. Let kiddo game with new friends. Relief. Go on patio with friend. Happy. Still stressed. I’m sleepy. Can’t sleep. We’re talking. I’m talking. I want to, but it’s hard. Masking. This is what friends do. They listen. It’s getting late. I still can’t sleep. I’ve been up too long.

Finally go to bed. I couldn’t keep my routine to read before bed. Too hot. The bed isn’t flat. I can’t figure out how to flatten it. It’s memory foam. Not used to it. Two fans on. They’re not my fan. Not my bed. Wake up. Can’t breathe. Headache. Finally get the bed flat. It’s 4 am. Fuck.

It’s too hot. BB is cuddled up with me. But it’s hot. Too hot to cuddle. I can’t sleep. Brain is already going. 2.5 hrs there. 2.5 hrs back. 5 hrs at the beach. Heat. Daylight. In my mind I’m already wheezing. Her car is not going to hold 5 bodies plus gear. For 5 hours. There and back.

Can’t breathe. Allergies coming to the fore again. 5 am. I finally sleep again. Nap at least.

6:30 am. Nightmare. I’m awake now, have to pee. Can I lay here and hold it? If I get up I won’t be able to sleep again. It’s not enough. I need more time.


Dog barking. Headache. Loud. Ow. I hear movement. 7 am. Oh God. 8 am. Time to get up. People are awake. Dog barking.

I can’t do this. I’m crying. I feel guilty already. I know I can’t make it. I didn’t have enough time. Shit shit shit. I’m sorry kiddo. I tried.

She’s so understanding I feel more guilty. I know rationally in my head that I shouldn’t but I still do.

I feel like a coward. How do I tell my friend? I just keep saying “I can’t I can’t I can’t.” Over and over. Finally get the words out. She says she understands. I feel like a shit.

We finally go home. I am in my bed. With my fan. And my book. I can’t sleep.

But I can breathe.


2 thoughts on “Anatomy of a meltdown

  1. So powerful my friend. I hope that many many people read this to understand that a meltdown is NOT a choice. Well done.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. FireBrightStarSoul July 14, 2018 — 13:54

      Thank you so much for that. It’s been a day. Feel free to share that in the group since I can’t anymore lol.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close