My Nervous Breakdown

I really don't know if the term Nervous Breakdown is considered de rigeur but I really think, in my case, this is the spot on description of what happened to me. At this writing my crunch-groovy psychiatric profession has diagnosed me witht the following disorders. Persistent Depressive Disorder (or PDD), Generalized Anxiety Disorder (or GAD - which I always makes me say E-GAD) and what else… oh yeah – my Assertive Rage Disorder (or ARD - which I prefer to pronouce as if I were a pirate)

We all have versions of nervous breakdowns- throughout our life, throughout the year… hell, throughout the day. Right? Like when your boss comes by your desk and tells you that he or she has another change to a 925,000-line spreadsheet that you have already redone 762 times. You smile and say "sure no problem" and then find a free moment to sneak into the copier room and stick your head into a filing cabinet and scream so you don’t take your keyboard and just beat the life right out of them. I am not saying that happened to me – but it might have.

We all have triggers that set us off. Only in my case I just don’t let things go -I tend to take a bad situation and just make it cataclysmic

Now a nervous breakdown is bad enough when it happens in private, but mine you see – happened in public… in the middle of 45th Street … in front of a hundred people waiting to be let into the matinee performance of Broadway’s Moulin Rouge. And I know what you’re thinking – You’re thinking – this is just a joke – Let me assure – it is not a joke.

Allow me to paint the picture. Me and three of my friends piled into a car and headed into NYC to see Moulin Rouge. The driver of the car – who I love dearly – decided to listen to the WAZE app – that blatantly lied about there not being any traffic on the Merritt Parkway, the Hutch or the West Drive or 53rd Street or Broadway (which incidentally was being paved – SUPER) – and because of the that digital liar – we arrived at the theatre with only a few minutes to spare before curtain.

As an aside, because of COVID everyone entering the theatre needed to have face masks, a temp check, a copy of your Vax card, a valid picture ID, a small goat to sacrifice to the drama gods and perform a monologue from a Tennessee Williams play – before they could get in their seats.

I am a very good do bee – I follow all rules to the letter – 200 years of Catholic School will teach how to fall in fucking line. Now many of the crowd in front of us – lacked some of what they needed and decided to make scenes thus putting us even further behind.

At this point – I can’t breathe and I hear my heart beating in my ears. So, as we approach the usher, I look in my phone for my ticket – which I cannot find --- let the hyperventilation begin.

Not being able to find the ticket was bad enough but then, my friend – who I had to keep telling myself that I loved dearly – decided to let loose with several pieces of wisdom which was insane fuel tossed on a raging crazy fire. Here is the wisdom…

Number 1 – You seem really stressed – maybe NYC isn’t the place for you. Just so you all know – I lived in NYC for years – I worked in NYC for years and I enjoy walking – eating – drinking and having fun in NYC for years so – that little comment did not go over well.

Number 2 – You need to just calm down – Now the ladies who read this, I am sure will agree that when your boyfriend or girlfriend or husband or wife – tells you to calm down – they might as well have just poked you in the eye with a rusty shrimp fork – because CALM DOWN never works!

Number 3 – I get stressed sometimes and I just say to myself – GET OVER IT

Now number 3 was what set me off. I look at my friend – who I love dearly – and say YOU REALLY THINK IT’S THAT EASY? – They said– YUP – ALWAYS WORKS FOR ME! Never had I ever looked at my friend – who I love dearly – and wanted to grab them gently by the shoulders and toss them into traffic – I wouldn’t and I didn’t but I so wanted to.

I then proceed to step out of line – advise my friends that I will not be attending the show – and burst out into tears – like sobbing, dry heaving – uncontrollable tears. Since I am a big guy, the sobbing thing, was not a good look. I then cross the street, collapse on to the curb and continue my breakdown.

Normally in New York City – you can be stark naked, bleeding from every orifice, have a monkey shitting on your head and not one person walking down the street will give you a second glance in NYC – but on this particular day – I was the main attraction. Cabs stopped, mothers with small children stared and pointed, pizza delivery guys on bikes tossed calzones at me to make me feel better. Finally, I saw two cop cars pull up in front of me – and I knew that Sad Jabba The Hutt here – needed to pull his shit together and high tail it out of there or else I was going to wind up on a 72-hour pysch hold at Bellevue – and I hadn’t packed for that.

I got home and sat in my room for 2 days trying to figure out what I was going to do next. I called friends and asked them for some direction and I finally made the call to a crunch, groovy and really superb psychiatric professional that helped me get a grip, make a plan and get the tools for staving off another nervous breakdown.

The point is --- don't wait. Don't try and handle it on your own. Reach out for a hand up and it will be there for you!