|Ironically, a friend posted this right after my meltdown.|
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Snap and Bam
I had a meltdown. A bad one. I haven’t experienced that bad of a meltdown in probably a year.
It was getting ready to take a bubble bath, then BAM. It hit me. It hit me so hard I seriously thought I had been hit in the face.
My knees started buckling underneath me. The room was spinning. Panic set in. And the gut wrenching tears started. I crawled into bed and just cried. Cried so hard I was dry heaving and gasping for air.
I didn't see it coming. Nothing triggered it. It just came out of nowhere.
The melt down was so bad, it scared me.. not in a - I’m going to hurt myself way - , but is this the breakdown where I finally snap and never recover? Will I end up in the hospital? Will I spend the rest of my days a hysterical mess?
The meltdowns scare me. Bad. I think it’s partly so terrifying because I have no control over it. Feeling like I have no control over what is going on inside me is terrifying.
As I was laying in bed hysterically crying, I kept telling myself “suck it up, you have been through worse, for hell sakes it’s been (almost) 3 years, quit being a whiny bitzch.”
Then it dawned on me. I am my own worst support system.
When a widow friend needs support, I drop everything and run to their aid. I never think “get over it, suck it up”. I listen, relate, make sure they are safe, and we all move on. But when I have a complete meltdown, I’m insanely hard on myself.
Honestly, I don’t know why. I guess I think I should be past the complete meltdown point. Past the point of where I lose all control. Hell, maybe I should even be over this by now.
I realized I need to treat myself the same way I treat my widow friends. With love and compassion, and not take a tough love approach.
I see now that the meltdown came from sheer exhaustion and the 3 year anniversary looming.
I also can see I need to be my own amazing support system, and I think it’s time to check myself back into my personal intensive care unit.