Meltdown

Yesterday I had a meltdown. It came at the end of three sleepless nights, at the end of my workweek with all its accumulated stress (mostly emotional), after three particularly tough weeks. 

The specific trigger (but not the real cause) of yesterday’s meltdown was the fact that my friend where I was supposed to stay for a few hours while my place was being disinfested from rodents had a serious problem of her own and last minute was unable to offer me the shelter I was counting on. I wasn’t upset at her, of course — she’s one of the most nurturing and reliable persons I know, and indeed she talked to me on the phone for almost an hour during my meltdown, first trying to help me find alternative solutions to my practical problem of where to hang out for a few hours, then showing empathy and validation for my emotional state, and finally offering support to find reasonable and effective solutions to my current state.

I’m feeling better today, and that’s why I can write about it. But it’s a transient, or shaky, “better” — I know that. For a while now, I’ve been feeling like I’m on a ledge, on the edge of an emotional/mental abyss. The highs are wonderfully high and definitely coming from amazing growth and improved awareness and lessons learned. But the lows are terrifying in how dark they can get, in ways that are totally unrecognizable to me as “myself” but clearly recognizable as symptoms of trauma-induced depression.

I know that’s what it is. There have been several events in the past two and a half years of my life that have built up to this current emotional state where old trauma from my childhood and teenage years is resurfacing so intensely, even so violently, that at times I can hardly keep myself together. 

And unfortunately my current job, which I used to love so dearly, is another trigger for that trauma: so for the past month and a half my trauma has basically been getting triggered regularly two or three times a week and my body (including my brain as an organ and thus part of my physical body) just cannot take it anymore. 

I am working on practical solutions, including starting to work with a psychotherapist, reaching out to my doctor to get me on antidepressants, and looking around for alternative jobs. But none of these solutions solve the problem in the moment, when a meltdown actually happens. When the meltdown hits, like yesterday, and all I want to do is sit and cry, and all my head can think is “I want to die” or “I don’t want to be alone anymore” or “I cannot do this by myself”, in those moments I need something that will rescue me on the spot. Fortunately those moments are still unfrequent enough to allow me to function in my daily life; and fortunately, although intense, these moments can still be turned around by a phone call or visit with a good friend (or sometimes even a good run in the sunshine or immersing myself in some fulfilling work). But what if I get to the point where all these tools and helping hands aren’t enough anymore? 

For now, I’m still well enough that I can get up after a good night’s rest (which I thankfully got last night), see the sunshine outside my window (which is shining this morning, thank goodness!), and actually feel thankful for what happened yesterday. Because the meltdown that my friend so inadvertently triggered but then so willingly helped heal yesterday, that meltdown reignited in me the willingness and capacity to rescue myself, to take care of myself, to effectively love myself. I went and got myself a yummy lunch in one of my favorite outdoor places, eating in the sunshine; then did some grocery shopping that I really needed before coming home and actively fixing up my place after the rat-disinfestation; and finally made myself a delicious dinner before getting myself to bed nice and early to recuperate some sleep. I did for myself what the child in me would need a parent to do for them. So I’m immensely thankful to my friend for yesterday, as well as several other good friends who understand and are supporting me through this rough patch. 

But what if I get to the point where I cannot rescue myself, or be rescued, anymore? What happens then?