BREAKDOWN

Well, it finally happened. The thing I have been fearing my entire cognitive life: a mental breakdown. You see, my family has a long, strong history of mental issues - primarily although not limited to - debilitating depression. I have always tended toward being a slightly (to severely) depressed person with a strong side of anxiety. I distinctly remember being depressed when I was 6 years old although I certainly did not recognize my deep feelings of sadness and empathy at the time. After that, my emotional/psychological life has been a bit of a roller coaster. I have ups and downs, but mostly maintain a certain level of moroseness and sarcasm. I also am not a big fan of psychotropic drugs or counseling. I think these things can be very helpful to many people and am not inherently opposed. Yet, for myself, I would like to think there is a better option. At least as far as counseling/therapy goes. Why on earth am I going to spend hundreds of dollars to tell some stranger who's probably more crazy than me about my problems? My general disdain for people and their advice makes the prospect of this nauseating to me. And, if I want people to know my business, I tell them. Or post it on the Internet for the general masses for free. Obviously.

Well, I've been considering getting on some anti-anxiety drugs, or maybe anti-depressants, because I can't seem to get out of the funk that has been brought on by all the ridiculousness that has occurred in the last 3 years. It always seems like the minute I start digging myself out of my hole that a giant dump truck of manure unloads right on top of me, making the hole even bigger than it was originally. And more distasteful as well. This gets frustrating and makes me just want to go be a hermit in the woods and be left alone. I've not actually gotten around to seeing a doctor about this. I tried to bring it up once and my doctor just did not get it. He muttered something like "well, you should probably get some rest and see if that helps." Thanks buddy! Because I've never tried that one. Man, too bad that piece of advice cost me another $150. Granted, I was not as explicit as I should have been... this is where the anxiety comes in... I have anxiety about lots of things: making phone calls, my dogs hurting each other or being hurt by someone/something else, talking about medical problems, having a disease that has not yet been detected, money, confrontation, polluting my mind with bad TV shows or books, not doing the right thing all the time, thank you notes, cleaning bathrooms, taking advice, insects and snakes biting me, not being able to fall asleep, being paranoid about my various anxieties... the list goes on. However, it always flares up worst when I'm at the doctor's office. Every ounce of intelligence leaves my brain once I walk in the door of the clinic. My blood pressure sky rockets and I become a blubbering idiot. I know it's going to happen, but I just can't help it. So, you see, this leaves me in a bit of a predicament when trying to discuss the anxiety I am experiencing at that time. I'm hoping to overcome this when I go in for my physical this fall. Maybe I can write them a letter and bring it with me...

Anyway, back to the breakdown. See this has been building forever and adds fuel to the anxiety fire. I know I'm losing my grip, so I become anxious about "going crazy" and it makes everything ten times worse. And I take it out on my husband. EVERY SINGLE TIME. I suck as a human, or at least as a wife. Granted, there are bits of it that are deserved, but no one deserves to have a crazy-fest erupt on them at Category 5 Hurricane levels for neglecting to unpack boxes, plan a date, or walk the dogs.

Well, that's what happened last weekend. I completely lost it and went into a hysterical, raging fit. It lasted on and off for two days. It was also fueled my hormones being that time of the month. F*ing hormones.

I won't go into all the details... but I was a mess. I've never had a breakdown of that magnitude, but thankfully my husband talked me down several times and stuck with me instead of running out the door screaming, "Get away from me you crazy b*tch." Because that's what I would have done had someone behaved in such a way toward me. Or carted them off to the mental hospital.

However, the goods news is that I've never felt more liberated in my entire life. I now know that if I indeed have a mental breakdown that: 1. It will not destroy the rest of my life; 2. That sometimes you just need to get everything off your chest and if that means crying hysterically and uttering screams so loud and deep that you sound like an alien monster that's okay too. and 3. Life will go on. I've also learned certain things that are not okay to do during a breakdown. And, since I am a person who highly believes in etiquette, having some ground rules will greatly help me in the future. I still feel awful about the whole thing and especially how I treated my husband. That was not okay. Not at all. But sometimes you feel that desperate and need someone to understand that guttural feeling. And now I no longer have the fear that came with the unexpected "mental breakdown." I had one, it was messy and awful, but I survived and feel more peace than I have in years. Thank God, the desperation is now gone and I feel like I can again deal with life. It may not a pretty or easy life, but at least I'm regained some semblance of control. At least of my own thoughts and actions to effectively deal with it.

So, hopefully this lasts and will give me some better perspective which I think it will. I also think it has gotten me to a place where I can reasonably ask for help. I've not been there ever before. Pride really can be stupid and over-rated. Mental well-being cannot be over-rated enough.

Maybe now I can get back to societal ranting or other such fun things. Stay tuned to the events of my "normal" life. Ha. We'll see.