Friday, September 26, 2008

Rocky Road

Image found here. 
I had a meltdown today. 

Now that it's past, and as I'm stretched out in bed, I'm thinking how I would go about describing a meltdown experience to someone who has not experienced the autoimmune version. 

Being the mom of three, I have weathered the toddler and then the adolescent versions of a meltdown. And there's the canine type - whenever a neighbor dog dares to step foot on our lawn in sight of Bart and Maggie. These reactions are explosive, noisy, and usually brief. Usually quieted with hugs from Mom or a doggie treat, and even though the next meltdown may only be hours away, resolution is achieved by the release of a great deal of energy. Pow. Chaos. Ahhh. All better. 

My meltdowns are much less flamboyant. Rather than explode like a firecracker, mine evolve like a slowly dripping ice cream cone. Come to think of it, an ice cream cone is a pretty good analogy of my total fatigue scenario. 

It all starts with things looking pretty good. Yessir, two scoops of delectable ice cream perched just as tidy as can be on a crisp cone. Anyone holding an ice cream cone looking like that has every right to be optimistic and energetic. 

Then, slowly, the environment begins to take it's toll on that ice cream. Stresses such as physical exertion, anxiety, and unrealistic self expectations start my ice cream melting. All my energy just drips down the side of the cone. Once things start deteriorating, the melt is unstoppable. I end up in a puddle on the couch. 

I guess the trick to avoiding the meltdown is to manipulate the stresses and environment around the cone. Easier said than done, but vital for a life off the couch. 

I wonder what flavor ice cream I would be? 

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