Anatomy of a Meltdown

Or How Running Prevented a Quadruple Homicide.

Saturday morning I was to meet up with my running group for our long run of the week. We were to meet at 6:30am. Did I mention this was Saturday? I’d been out with a friend Friday night to see a play to which I had  been long looking forward, but I didn’t get home until midnight (way past my customary 9:30 bedtime).

It started at 4am – the waking, looking at the clock every half hour, trying to decide what time I really needed to get up. At 6am I made the decision that I would not get up to meet my running group. I drifted back to sleep. I didn’t feel relieved at letting myself off the hook, I felt defeated.

About an hour and a half later, I became aware of my husband curled behind me, spooning. This should have felt safe and lovey, but instead it felt predatory. (This has nothing to do with my husband - just scars of injuries past that become inflamed without warning.)

Moments later, the other man in my life appeared. “Mommy, can I snuggle?” So I moved over to be sandwiched between the two in our wholly inadequate double bed. In short order the middle child padded in and curled up at the end of the bed on my feet while the dog became increasing ly frantic, racing from one side of the bed to the other trying to find a gap he could jump into.

Thus I enter consciousness under siege, like a soldier awakened by incoming rounds. I started flailing around and hollering for everyone to Get. Off. Me. and finally managed to extricate myself. I left everyone behind thinking, “Why is she rejecting me?” The truth is that it couldn’t be any less about them.

I head into the living room/kitchen/great room - an area that is being secured by the National Park Service as a monument to chaos and disorder. I make my coffee and assume my position for my daily morning ritual of study, prayer and contemplation. This practice is essential for me and the reason I get up so early. I need that half hour before anyone else in the house is up, but since I have slept late, I have missed my window. Instead, my study time is punctuated with distractions and demands.

As I start briefing everyone on the day’s schedule and what needs to happen to make it all possible, I feel myself getting tighter than a piano wire. I stop what I am doing and say, “I am going for a run. You all have approximately 1 hour and fifteen minutes to do something that will not make me want to burn your flesh off with my eyes.”

Had I stayed any longer, I would have had a classic meltdown involving any of the following: yelling, shaming, belittling, martydom, condescension, hysteria, and tears (theirs or mine). Instead, it took 50 minutes of running before my meltdown occured in the form of rivulets of sweat streaming down my face. I literally left it all on the road.