I’ve come a really long way on this journey to living a happier and more peaceful life. If there was a sign in my house that noted how long it’s been since my last meltdown, two years ago we would have worn down chalk resetting it to zero. But a year ago the number for days without a meltdown was respectable. Recently, every day was record breaking! Until last Friday, when the sign would have been reset to zero. All because a seat belt tried to murder me.
Seriously.
During my thirteen minute commute home, no matter how many times I adjusted the goddamn belt across my shoulder and chest, it shifted up to my throat. With each adjustment and inevitable slip, my body tensed, teeth gritted, and knuckles whitened against the steering wheel. The sensation of edged polyester pressed into the side of my neck from jaw to clavicle felt like the filthy callused hands of a demented stranger wrapped around my throat. My heart rate increased, face flushed and eyes narrowed. I hated my new car with its ill fitting seat belt, blamed and despised my large breasts for existing, and was most likely the angriest a person has ever been throughout history at a SEAT BELT.
Blocks from home, I unbuckled the belt and threw it behind me. Within seconds the obnoxious ding of the seat belt alarm pierced my ears like a screeching child. I hunched forward like a madman as my hands clenched the wheel while steamy breath escaped my flared nostrils. The thought of speeding into a brick wall may have crossed my mind.
Finally, I raced up my driveway, threw the car into park and killed the engine. The only sound that remained was that of my rapid breathing.
My husband, Mike witnessed my arrival from the garage and approached cautiously. He stood beside the window for a moment. “Are you okay?” I heard muffled through the glass.
I opened the door. “No,” I grunted through gritted teeth.
“What happened?”
Too angry to speak, I sat there as Mike waited apprehensively.
“My seat belt strangled me!” I finally blurted. I demonstrated the violence by pulling the belt across my throat and pantomiming my strangulation. “See? I can’t stand it!”
Without a word, Mike reached inside the car and adjusted the seat belt height with a gentle push downward.
“Better?” he asked.
I burst into tears, flooded by relief and gratitude.
As surprising as this may sound, my meltdown wasn’t about attempted murder in the car by seat belt. I know, right – you’re SHOCKED! My little incident in the car was simply the straw attempting to break the camel’s back. The truth is I was tired, hungry, and it was my fifth day without a cigarette so I was experiencing withdrawal symptoms AGAIN. I had been driving the car for just shy of two months, and although the belt needed adjusting occasionally, it never agitated me to the point of contemplating expediting my own death.
My point is: no matter how mindful, zen, self-aware, or peaceful we become, we’re still going to have moments when we lose our shit. We’re human! We experience fluctuations in hormones and chemicals, hunger, exhaustion, annoying relatives, bosses, spouses, etc. and there will be times when all these things collide and we JUST.CAN’T.TAKE.IT.ANYMORE. We’re not perfect!
The skill comes in acknowledging what’s really at work. Remember my post Learning to H.A.L.T. about checking in to see if you’re hungry, angry, lonely, or tired? If not, give it a read. The other skill is not allowing inconsequential annoyances to snowball into a careening mass of destruction.
In the past, I may have refused to even tell Mike what was bothering me, then found a reason to be upset with him. Soon we’d be in a horrible fight that would become about EVERY infraction ever committed, which would turn into a fight about fighting. Once that fizzled out in sheer exhaustion I may attempt to get changed and then decide I hate every article of clothing I own, which would inevitably turn into me hating my body and then myself.
Good times!
All could have been avoided had someone (or me) just given me a snack and a blanket. There’s a reason it works for kids. We’re not that different, folks… If you find yourself behaving like a toddler with a temper tantrum or a crazed madwoman, take a time-out. Check in with yourself. Ask yourself: am I hungry, angry, lonely, tired? Where am I in my menstrual cycle – could my hormones be off? Did I forget to take my medication today? There are reasons why we behave irrationally and I guarantee you they don’t have to do with what you’re blaming.
I suppose I owe my seat belt an apology…
This was funny-not funny. I find myself melting down every so often, especially when it’s that time of the month. I guess we should also add forgiving ourselves after the meltdown as one of the things we need to do.
As always, great post, Jess. In case you haven’t noticed, you are turning into my zen guru.
Yes, forgiving ourselves afterward is so important! Meltdowns happen. Thanks so much for your continued support! I learn through sharing and it’s so great sharing with you.