Over the years I have become accustom to my own last straw meltdowns. From my own perspective I can’t say what others see because at the moment of having one I am overwhelmed with something and so completely consumed with anger I only have one thing on my mind, make it stop. I rarely have them but I am sure my head lifts off my shoulders and spins around and the mouth does not stop spewing shit. I have not seen anyone have one of these, so I for a long time have thought this was some flaw in my character and most likely needed some anger management classes; but just never got around to it. My kids have witness two of them and my co-worker one. Now the first one even shocked me when it happened. We were on a road trip taking a dog to TX. It happened on the turnpike around Oklahoma City. I was headed to Dallas and needed to get on Hwy 35: I did not want to get on the turnpike and I knew it was very close and I had one chance at getting the highway I needed to avoid all the tolls booths that I really hate to deal with. I absolutely hate to stop to pay someone a few coins so I can keep going.
The rain started and then became heavy, transport trucks are totally taking up the right hand lane, so I pulled in behind one and was being squeezed and could not see any signs till they were right in front of me or already passed them. Needless to say I missed my exit. Now I am mad and tired when we hit the first booth. I am not sure how much I had to pay any more but it was coins no bills. The booths were not manned with humans at all. They did have some change machines but they did not work. I would have gotten through it if they only had one of the damn things but every 5 miles I had to pull off the highway to put some coins in the basket. That part of it was horrible but when I ran out of change and the machines did not work I slipped away into madness. I was screaming at the kids to go through everything to find change. Check your pockets, go through my purse, just empty the damn thing and see if there is any change in the bottom. The ashtray got stuck as I tried to see if there was any in it and almost hit myself in the head as I was strong arming the thing out and it let loose and nearly killed me. The kids came up with a few coins and it was just enough to get me through the toll booth. Then to top it all off I missed the basket and the coins fell on the ground. I can’t open my door because I am too close to the basket and I can’t pull forward or I’ll take out the gate, and there was idiot that was snug up on my bumper so backing up was out of the question. The horns started to blow as the cars backed up and I sat there stuck. I got the door open just enough to reach down but I now have to get my butt out of the seat and shove it in the air to give myself more reaching room. I cannot for the life of me remember the shit I was yelling, the kids tell me it was really bad. The melt down was shocking to me and the kids as I had never done this before. I did manage to get the coins and get past the booth but it was one of the hardest things I had ever done. The pain involved with pinching my arm and boob between the door and the seat to stretch my hand down to the ground with my ass in the air shoved up on the stirring wheel, was just the final straw. I was charged to get off the toll road so I could get change and I was charge to get back on the thing so I could get to a highway and head to Dallas. I was physically ill after that. I was so sure I had a stroke but I did live through it and never wanted to have one again.
My daughter had a melt down and all I could do is laugh. Now if she would have laughed at me I am sure I would be in prison and not blogging now. It started out with some small irritating things. I’ m not even sure what they were; I knew by the sound of her walk that she was pissed. You know the sound of a pissed off teenager when they storm out of a room; it makes the whole house quake. At that point I am all ears to zero in on the problem. I hear “who pooooooed here”? (Stomp, stomp, stomp, bang) as the door slammed shut, then the obvious reason rears its ugly head. Then the door opens again and a shrieking scream come race down to the basement. “Who shit”? Then her potty mouth kicks in and she stomped into the kitchen yelling, "you dogs stop pooping Damn it, now the door slams again. There was a moment of silence then the screaming started up again. Get off, Get off, don’t touch me (scream) you little bastard you scratched me, get down. I yelled up stairs “what is going on up there”? These dogs won’t leave me alone. Don’t flatter yourself they treat all of the same. (Now I am snickering to myself because it’s about time they picked on the kids instead of me) Then the GAWG awful scream came. WTF who shit????? Stop cussing, and now I am in full blown laughter. It is hard to correct them while laughing. Ma stop it’s not funny. Maaaaaaa STOP. So I buried my head in a pillow because there was no stopping. (Bang) man I thought she was going to take the door off that time. To understand the entire door slamming thing, it’s because I had enough garbage problems so I threw the waste basket away and everyone must walk outside to throw their garbage away in the big curby, this alone pisses everyone off. I am making a point and I hope they get it soon because I am making a thousand trips a day out there to. NOOOOOOOOOO who peed here? Now I have to go upstairs because she is really losing it. When I get up there she is mopping up, I said “put them all out side for a while till they get this out of their system”. She jumps and said “come on doggies get OUT” then the hooligans started the catch me if you can. I thought she was going to cry. Then I saw her head lift off her shoulders and spin around, I swear, pressurized steam blowing out both ears. YOU BASTARDS, (Stomp, stomp, stomp BANG) as she disappeared into her room. As I finish getting the dogs out and mopping up, I can’t stop laughing, I even buried my moth in my shoulder but I just busted loose. Finally they drove someone else over the cliff of insanity. I am real sure she had some choice words for me too.