Pointless Meltdowns

Let’s get real for a minute.

Depression is an asshole.

That is a very loaded statement, I know. There are countless reasons why depression is an asshole, but today, I’m referring to one specific reason.

Meltdowns.

Meltdowns over stupid shit that is not worth worrying about.

If you’ve ever experienced depression and/or anxiety, you probably know exactly what I’m talking about.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, basically, in my case, something frustrating happens and basically I have a huge overly emotional response to it, which for me using involves crying and or hyperventilating. Sometimes, it just makes no sense to be upset. Logically, it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but I lose control over my emotions and cannot stop crying. Sometimes the situation makes sense to be a little upset about, but the emotional response is still far more than necessary.

Today, what happened was something that justified being upset, but not to the extreme that I was.

First of all, I am finding myself getting stressed out at work. More than I have since I started this job, but it’s not because of the work itself, it’s more because of where my depression is at right now and how it’s effecting my work. On top of that, I haven’t been sleeping well at all for the past two weeks. I mean, I don’t sleep well to begin with, but it’s been even worse.

So, with that stress already weighing more and more heavily on me, I had an appointment booked with my doctor today for 4:45, which meant I needed to leave early.

I was trying my best to get out of the office on time, but it was not easy, because I was stressing about where I left off and I didn’t even enter my hours, since that’s one thing I can do from anywhere. (I need to do that still before I forget…) Even with my efforts to leave on time, I was still a couple minutes late. Then traffic was weird and I ended up being a few minutes later than I initially thought I’d be.

I finally got to my doctor’s office and rushed from my car into the building and to the receptionist’s window. I told the lady that I have an appointment but I’m a few minutes late. She told me my doctor had left for a meeting at 4:45, so we’ll have to reschedule.

But that’s when my appointment was booked for.

She looked in the computer and told me my appointment was for 4:30.

Uhhh….. No, I’m pretty sure it was 4:45. I started digging through my purse to see if I had left the label they printed out for me in there. I couldn’t find it. I looked in my calendar on my phone. I put in 4:45 and I remember even double checking the time when I put it into my phone because once last year had told me 4:45 but when they printed out the label, it said 4:30, so I’m always worried that’ll happen again, even though I noticed it right away that time, I still double check because I’m paranoid.

When they called me yesterday to confirm the appointment, I was pretty sure the lady had said 4:45. When I told the lady at the desk this, she told me that they don’t do confirmation calls. “Well, someone called me and they said 4:45,” I replied. Getting increasingly annoyed.

The receptionist beside her said, “yes we did, because it was a 30 minute appointment.”

Except it wasn’t. I responded saying I didn’t know it was 30 minutes, but if it was 30 minutes, and supposed to be at 4:30, why did my doctor leave at 4:45 for a meeting? Later, I remembered when I booked the appointment 6 weeks ago after my previous appointment, the lady booking it asked me if it was supposed to be 30 minutes and I said I didn’t think so. Otherwise she probably would have booked it for 4:30 like they’re now saying it was.

For some reason, I was still convinced they were wrong, and I restated that I was fairly certain it was booked for 4:45. The receptionist looked closer at her computer and said that it was “never at 4:45.”

Never.

Never at 4:45? Of course, my anxiety had be questioning whether they were right and I was wrong, but I was still fairly certain they were wrong.

I felt really frustrated and angry and didn’t really know what to do. I rescheduled for the only time I could get tomorrow (otherwise I have to wait until next week, and at this point, I just can’t) and as I turned to leave, it hit. That feeling of imminent meltdown.

As I pushed the first door open I tried to hold it back. I went through the automatic sliding door out into the parking lot. Since it was basically empty I let myself stop fighting so hard, but I just wanted to hold on until I got to my car. Tears began rolling down my cheeks.

I the instant I closed my car door I stopped fighting. Water poured out of my face and snot built up in my nose. Yep. Real pretty.

I cried on and off on my drive home.

Once I got home, I looked in my storage/electronics charging station thing on my night table and found the label for my appointment.

Am I imagining it, or does that not say 4:45?

Okay, so yes, logically, it’s not a big deal. I get that. But depression doesn’t give a shit.

I burst into a whole knew set of tears. By this point, I don’t even know why I was upset anymore. There was nothing I could do about the whole thing. Plus, it’s covered by provincial health care, so it’s not like it’s costing me money. I was just so pissed off and frustrated and overwhelmed. I was crying and I couldn’t stop it.

The uncontrollable sobs came so hard my legs felt weak and I collapsed to my knees beside my bed and began hyperventilating with my head in my arms. This went on for several minutes.

My parent’s dogs were running around me, getting all worked up because I hadn’t fed them yet. I hadn’t even let my dog out of his crate because I knew he would run straight upstairs to go outside, so I decided he could wait.

Once I calmed down enough to get up and blow my nose, my mom got home. Then I started crying all over again when I told her what happened.

I feel so stupid for crying over this. It’s such a stupid thing. But this is what on the things depression does to me.


Update: I asked the receptionist about it the next day when I went for my rescheduled appointment. She said it looked like my doctor had changed it, but that they would have told them to call me if that was the case. When I told him about it, he seemed a little confused. Obviously someone screwed up somewhere along the way, but it really doesn’t matter. I was just having a bad day.

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