Bagels and Mental Breakdowns

So, I had a meltdown yesterday. I guess I had been holding too much stuff in for too long, and I got set off really easily. It's the most intense one I think I've ever had, too, which is saying something.

So here's what happened.

I had been having a really crappy day in the first place. I was relatively well-rested, but I was late leaving the house to walk to school. It was also really windy, which is probably my least favorite kind of weather, especially for walking to school in at 7:30 in the morning. I had left my homework at home, and therefore was not able to turn it in for full credit. People either pushed me around or completely ignored me, which actually happens pretty much daily, but for some reason it really got to me that day. It was even windier while I was walking home. When I got home, I saw that my chore was to take out the compost, which is my least favorite chore. I missed dinner and ate by myself, and then Raechelle told me to go do my chore.

That was okay. It wasn't difficult, but another part of taking out the compost is to rinse the bin out because the bag leaks sometimes. The only way I had seen that done was by using the hose, which was outside in the cold wind, so I skipped it and just put the bag in. It's not like anyone would notice. Raechelle asked me if I had rinsed it out, and I lied and said yes.

After that, I went downstairs, and about half an hour later, Raechelle came into my room and said, "You said you rinsed the bin out?"

I said yes.

"With the hose?"

I said yes.

"So why isn't the hose or the ground wet?"

I was silent. I couldn't get out of this. Water doesn't dry that fast.

"You lied to me."

I said yes.

"I don't like being lied to. It makes me not want to do things for you, like making a hair appointment for you."

This hurt really badly because it was the one thing I had been looking forward to for a while. I really didn't have a lot else to focus on to make me happy, although I really don't have a very good idea as to why it was so important to me. All I knew was that it was, and if it was cancelled, I would be devastated.

"We'll see if I get over it."

She left.

I started bawling. I cried for a couple minutes, getting angry at her words and the way she said them. "We'll see if I get over it" was the worst, because it put images of her leaving in my mind. Then I started getting angry at myself, mostly because I realized that this wasn't the first time I've lied. I've lied to several people, even people that I care about. This spiral of self-hate started to get worse until crying didn't help. Unlike usual, I didn't feel any bad feelings get out of my body. They just stayed there and festered and made me hate myself even more.

I decided that I should take all this anger and hate out on something inanimate so that I'm not hurting anyone physically, so I threw my water bottle. It hit something soft and wasn't very satisfying, so I threw a chair cushion. That hit the wall, but still wasn't satisfying, so I threw a cup that hit and dented the wall. Normally that would have satisfied me, but it didn't. All the hate was still there. I sat there and decided that the reason why I was so angry was because she didn't discipline me right. So I attempted to correct her.

So I stormed upstairs and into Raechelle's office, where she was sitting at her computer.

I was still hysterical, so I slurred out the words, "could you yell at me please?"

Raechelle was confused.

"Yell at me, please!" I got frustrated that she still wouldn't.

"Why?"

I tried to think of why, but I didn't really know at the time, so I just said, "I can't stand it when you throw that passive-aggressive crap at me!"

She said things about how she wasn't going to yell at me and that it didn't make sense that I wasn't happy with the way she disciplined me. She said that it didn't justify yelling. It wasn't that big of a deal, but she didn't like it when people lied to her.

I said, "Well I think I deserve it."

I started getting even more hysterical. I wrapped my arm around my stomach and put my hand in front of my mouth to try to contain the hyperventilation. It didn't work, and I stood there for a few minutes, sobbing and hyperventilating, until Raechelle got up and said, "I still love you. It was just a little lie," and embraced me.

For some reason, none of this was helping, either. It was like some kind of force field was shielding me from happiness that day. I tried to fight it by telling her everything else that was bad that I had done. I told her that I didn't just lie once; I'm a compulsive liar and I steal things like really nice pens and little trinkets without them knowing, but I hit my limit when I took a little plastic toy from a six-year-old's house. I told her that I get bad grades because I lie about my schoolwork and homework, and that it's not like I try to; it just comes out, even when I have it planned out in my head that I'm going to tell the truth.

She seemed bewildered and took me to the couch to talk about it.

I didn't stop hyperventilating for probably ten minutes.

The last time I've lied since yesterday was when, after the talk, I said I was better.

It still hasn't gone away.