Melt Downs (And the ring that caused it)

 So, I wanted to tell a bit of a story today. I wanted to also bring up something really important, that no one seems to talk about.Melt downs.(Oh no!….. Oh, yes)Melt downs and sensory processing disorder are two topics that unfortunately seem to be considered quite ‘taboo’ in anyone that isn’t a toddler.And the older you get, the more taboo it becomes.Which kind of sucks, because there’s still so many people that struggle with melt downs, and anxiety attacks, and over sensory issues… Unlike ‘temper tantrums’ or ‘the-terrible-two’s, it doesn’t die out with age… But people’s understanding of it seems to.Which gives those that are dealing with it, that struggle with it, a sense of insecurity, and discomfort, more than we’re already made to feel.And well, I’ve never really understood societies ‘norms’, and things you should and shouldn’t say. So here we go, if no one else is going to discuss it, I will.I’m twenty-years-old, and melt downs are still apart of my life.(And that’s okay)  …  Anyway. This story is about a ring.Uhm, no I’m not engaged. (Could you imagine me with a husband? No thanks. Ew.)It’s also a story about putting action to negative circumstances.You know what? I’m just going to stop trying to tell you what it’s about and actually just do the thing. I’ve spoken before about how I get really, really attached to things.I cried in an op shop when I was eighteen because I saw an old, ratty soft deer that they were going to throw in the rubbish bin and my mum wouldn’t allow me to get it.(The deer ended up coming home with us.) I can never sell books because I have memories attached to each page.I watch the same movie over and over and over again because I fall in love with the characters and the story.I have four pieces of jewellery that I love more than life itself… A heart locket bracelet that belonged to my mum when she was little, a charm bracelet with beads that have the hair of my two horses that passed away in them, my autism awareness bracelet, my locket that I got from my grandparents, and my little, pink, heart shaped ring.(Remember that. It becomes crucial in my story.)Basically… I get attached to things easily. That’s that.During the Summer, my family and I spend all day, every day at the beach. We’ve done it for as long as I can remember, and because it’s such a routine for me, I always know exactly what to bring, and exactly what to leave behind.Sometimes though, no matter how hard you plan something, or how much you think you’ve got something sorted out… things get forgotten.(And if you’re a scatter head like me, things get forgotten more than they get remembered).Remember that little pink ring I told you about?This little, pink, heart shaped ring was a present from my parents on the day of my thirteenth birthday. It’s the only ring I ever wear, it’s the most precious thing I have.It was given to me at a time of my life that was really, really difficult, and it’s always been a little, constant reminder to me of ‘no matter what you’re going through, no matter how hard you’re struggling, you’re loved’. So you can imagine what I felt when I came back from the beach, reached my hand down to fiddle with the ring that was always on my fingers, only to find that in this instance…It wasn’t. Cue the biggest melt down I’ve had in my life.   I don’t actually know how to properly explain the feeling that I felt in my head.All I can refer it to is you know that static screen on the television?Or that feeling that you have when you’re between awake and asleep, and the world doesn’t really make any sense?Or… something that I’m going to go ahead and say that none of us can relate to in a literal sense… It feels like your head is imploding, over, and over, and over again.And the worst thing is… that you can’t get out of it. You’re stuck inside of your head.You’re stuck inside a volcanic eruption.Inside a nightmare that’s repeating the jump-scare section of it over, and over, and over again.And it’s really, really scary. Because it feels like in the moment, there’s nothing in the world that can bring you back out of it.It’s why you often see people that suffer from sensory processing disorder, autism, and anything else that stops our systems from running with our senses ‘regularly’ often hitting themselves, rocking, screaming, or crying when they’re in melt-down-mode.Our ability to self regulate, comprehend situations clearly and stay calm diminishes completely.I’ve had melt downs before. Brief moments where the world gets too much and I’ll cry, or panic, occasionally I’ve even fainted because my entire system just shuts off. My body has endured more than it’s mentally and physically capable of, and it shuts down.The reason behind this changes, and there’s never a singular reason behind them. A singular answer.It can happen over so many things, and the scale of those things differs completely from something absolutely humungous that may have happened- such as a family member dying, or a drastic change, or a huge fright….Or it could be something smaller, like having a hectic few days, or something not going your way.Or, sometimes the biggest melt downs can happen over the smallest things, that everyone else see’s as completely, utterly petty and ridiculous… but to the person stuck inside of it, it seems like the most rational thing in the world.Such as losing a ring.  The process of a melt down is like the building of a wave, I suppose.The beginning stages of the wave always start off small… just an energy that forces the ocean to rise, gradually.But it’s an energy. And it’s definitely there…. Even if you can’t necessarily see it in full force just yet.I instantly began to panic when I realised my ring was gone, before I could even assess the situation. Before I could check the wave, and see if it was a tidal wave, or merely a speed hump that would wash over.Because when you panic… everything looks like a tsunami (Thanks, brain.)As the wave began to build in momentum and height, as did my panic, and the irrationality of my thinking I checked and rechecked my bag, I began to strip off just in case it had somehow slipped down my clothes, I began to throw everything out of the car….My breathing was rushed, my head was foggy, my teeth were chattering.That ring could have been right in front of me with a big, neon sign pointing at it, and I likely still wouldn’t have seen it. And then came the crashing of the wave… the energy that collides violently with the water below it, resulting in a spinning, powerful force of noise and pure (negative) energy.My ring was gone. It seems so insignificant, doesn’t it? It seems so irrational to have worked myself up to the point of sitting on my bedroom floor, punching at the hard-wood floors, screaming into my kneecap as I curled myself up in a ball on the floor.But I suppose that’s the thing…Even big riptides look harmless to someone sitting on the sunny shoreline.And in that moment, it was easier to let myself be taken by it than to try and swim out.But, even the biggest wave has to come to an end eventually… The water has to still.Rationality has to come back.And sometimes, it may take a bit of help. So after a three-hour melt down…. I sat on the bedroom floor of my bedroom, looking more like the fictional characters that chase victims in horror movies rather than the bubbly, excitable girl I had been earlier that day.My clothes were messed up, my face was splotchy, and covered in snot and tears (I know. Cute, right?).And that’s when my dad walked into my room, arms crossed, and leaned against my door frame.“Well, now your pity party is over… what are you going to do about it?”Right. I’d just had the biggest melt down of my life. My ring was still lost. A ‘get over yourself’ talk from my father wasn’t exactly what I wanted right now.What I wanted was to crawl into bed and cry some more and cuddle my dog and watch Little House On The Prairie and not come back out for at least forty-eight years.But that probably wouldn’t go down well. When he left the room after I muttered a disgruntled ‘dunno’, I took some time out to think.Damnit. Why are parents always so smart?Because, you know what? He was right. I had to do something about it.By ‘something’, he probably meant ‘get up, have a shower, get over yourself. Come eat your dinner’.But I’ve never been one to do things half way (unless it involves studying.) So, I stood up, wiped my snotty nose over my already drenched shirt, and grabbed out my phone, opening up facebook.“DOES ANYONE HAVE A METAL DETECTOR. NEEDED TONIGHT. ASAP”I was going to find that damn, stupid ring. Did I mention that the beach I had lost it at was a three hour round trip?Or that it was 8:00pm at night?Or that my dad, my brother, and my brothers best friend all trekked out with me, metal detector in hand?Or the fact that I had lost a piece of metal the size of a five cent coin at a beach that went on forkilometres and I was planning on finding it?I told you that I don’t do things half way.On either scale. Something that the experience taught me, is that pity and sorrow and falling into a heap does absolutely nothing at all.I know it’s hard. And I know the situation that you’re in can even seem impossible at times. That falling into a heap and allowing yourself to be taken by waves you’re feeling can often seem like the easiest and best solution.But I promise you… I promise you that it’s not.Want something done? Get up, wipe away your snot and your tears, and try.The end result may not be what you want, but you’re never going to know unless you try. And hey…Having faith the size of a mustard seed, can help you find something equally as small.