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Meltdown: When was the last time you totally lost it?

This may not be the most recent time I totally lost it, but it is a potent one. 

After my dog Velma died, I was horrible to my mom. She was so supportive and kind, but I lost it when she told me the drawstring on my dress was trailing on the ground. 

Why did this set me off? Not really sure to be honest, but it was the final straw. Maybe because, yes I did know that the drawstring was on the ground, but I just didn't care. My dog had died, and I hadn't been with her when it happened. What did it matter if the drawstring was on the ground? Did my mom think I hadn't noticed? Surely I had noticed but just didn't care.

I yelled at her and stormed into the store to buy a bracelet to put Velma's dog tag on so I could keep her with me. I was so upset that my mom didn't come with me. Didn't she know I needed her to come with me? Yes, looking at it as a rational person, I realize I had just yelled at her, and she thought (as she told me later when I tearily confronted her) I didn't want her with me because I had done so. Now, that's how a rational person thinks.

But in my meltdown, I thought she should just know that I needed her with me but was not doing it for some awful reason. How was I supposed to find the bracelet on my own? What if I needed an opinion on which one to get? I couldn't ask someone for help, I was too upset. I'd become one of the TMI customers people who work customer service gossip about. And that mattered. It did. Not as much as it mattered that my dog was dead, but it mattered.

My mom says she doesn't even remember me being terrible to her during this time. She just remembers that I was upset. Which is very kind of her and her memory. But I remember people staring at us (and at my trailing drawstring--perhaps wondering if they should tell me about it as they had not heard the whole conversation). I remember my meltdown that went from annoyance to shouting to being upset to near tears to confrontation yet again.

I can forgive myself for this meltdown. I was heartbroken over Velma in a way that was so visceral. I also melted down when they told me they needed permission to stop her CPR. I tried to ask if I could be with her, but they thought I meant after she'd passed, but I had meant I wanted to be there when she did pass. I tear up even now thinking of this (it was close to five years ago). I loved that little dog with my entire heart and she was my constant companion during some of the hardest times of my life when otherwise I would've been alone (think March to August 2020, folks). I had promised her that I would protect her and yet she was attacked in front of me.

I don't want to replay the whole thing now, but it was incredibly terrible. So I think it makes sense that I had a meltdown both when she died and shortly thereafter (the next day if I recall).

I usually have meltdowns in private. I think in part because I have some issue with crying in front of people, but this one was public. I guess that's why it stands out so much. That and my mom in no way earned it. After all, she'd just been trying to help me.

Anyways, that's the meltdown that I remember most. I have probably totally lost it since, but I chose to write about the one that stood out to me.

Miss you, baby girl.

(Prompt by Kimisha Cassidy)

Photo by Johannes Daleng on Unsplash


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