What Are "Meltdowns"?

The best answer I've ever heard to this question is from autisticdrift on tumblr (their tumblr is linked here).  Autisticdrift responded:

It’s different for everyone. Some people withdraw and get very quiet. Others appear to be really angry (throwing or hitting things, yelling, cursing). Others seem very sad/distressed (crying, sobbing, not talking or seeming inconsolable). Some people try to “disappear” by making themselves small, covering themselves with blankets or wedging themselves into a small hiding place. 

I don’t think there is a typical response across all people but I do think that each person has a response that is typical of them, if that makes sense.

For me, meltdowns start LOUD and ANGRY, with crying, yelling, throwing, and hitting.  Meltdowns are an out-of-body experience and I honestly don't comprehend myself or the situation when I'm having one.  I know I scream and cry and wail because I've seen it on video tape (my parents used to tape them when I was a kid because they didn't understand them and wanted to show my doctors) but I honestly have little recollection afterward.  I cry and I scream and I throw and then I shrink down into a tiny little quiet shell of myself.  I try to hide and make myself invisible.  

That is the progression of every meltdown I have ever had from early childhood until now.  

Meltdowns are a really unique experience and something that neurotypical individuals cannot usually understand.  

The most important thing I want to get across, though, is that meltdowns are not temper-tantrums.  Meltdowns are different.  Meltdowns are a response instigated by our unique neurochemistry.  They are not voluntary.  

When I am having a meltdown, I am not really there.  

Accessibility & Anxiety (& Autism)

As much as autism has been a factor in my life, I have had more troubles with anxiety in recent months.  I haven't had an autistic meltdown in what feels like a long time, but I have definitely experienced issues with anxiety in my recent past.

On the campus of my university, there are buildings I cannot go in to and restaurants I cannot make purchases from.  Or rather, there are buildings I am physically capable of going in to but buildings I simply cannot go in to because my anxiety won't let me.  I have places I won't walk alone - not scary places or anything like that, just certain hallways or stairwells or shortcuts that I cannot take without feelings of panic.  

Anxiety has kept me from doing things.  Anxiety has kept me from buying food I want to buy and has actually kept me from going to some of my classes, simply because I cannot go to certain places.  Anxiety is hard for me.  People throw the word anxiety around like you wouldn't imagine, and one of the biggest culprits of that is my roommate.  She's also one of my best friends, but I cannot stand it when she says she's "anxious" and "worrying" about these little things.  She says this so casually but after a while I just start panicking at the very idea of anxiety.  

I guess my Autistic-ness is most apparent when I express my anxiety.  For me, anxiety manifests in chewing fingers, flapping hands and arms, shaking head, pulling at my skin, disjointed speech, and repetition of words and/or phrases.  

Today, I cleaned my laptop while I was anxious.  I clean my laptop any time I take my laptop off my desk or out of my room, so this is not an unusual occurrence to me.  But anxious me?  

yooouuuuuu are not clean you are nnnnnot clllllleeean lyyysol lysol lysssssol lysol clean top top top top top top wet wetttttttttt clean wetttttttt lysol lyyyyyysol clean clean buttons buttttttons butttttttttttttttons butttttttttttttttons 

That's not an exact quotation of what I said.  I can't remember exactly what I said.  But thinking back -- this was probably an hour ago -- I know I was definitely muttering to myself something along those lines.  Self-talk is not abnormal for me.  Repeating words is not abnormal to me.  Drawing out certain syllables because they feel good on my tongue is not abnormal for me.  But all three together with the speech pattern I get in to when I'm having a "bad brain day" or "bad brain moment" can be frightening to people who don't always see my autism.  

This post started out just about anxiety and I guess I got talking about autism in the middle there.  That's all right with me though.  I have a multiple diagnoses.  Autism was my first diagnosis, but from there I've obtained a few more labels over the years, and when you have multiple conditions all in the same brain, sometimes they start to overlap a bit.  Case in point: When I'm anxious, I display more Autistic traits than I usually do.  

Anxiety is hard because I don't know how to stop being anxious.  I am at a point in my life where I can accept autism as my primary diagnosis and I can recognize that the way I do things is often different than others.  And that's fine with me.  That is out of my control.  That is my neurochemistry, and autism makes me who I am.  

Anxiety is harder to accept.  Anxiety is something everyone has -- even neurotypical individuals -- and anxiety is something you can have control over.  Anxiety is something you can harness and tame whereas autism is not.  Or, rather, this is how I have always been told.  

I feel bad when I can't stop my anxiety.  Something inside me tells me that I should be able to stop it, that I shouldn't really experiences these symptoms, that it's all in my head and that I have control over it, I just have to stop feeling those feelings. 

My problem right now is that I can't just stop being anxious.  And that's frustrating to me.  

Autistic Females

“Females with ASDs often develop ‘coping mechanisms’ that can cover up the intrinsic difficulties they experience. They may mimic their peers, watch from the sidelines, use their intellect to figure out the best ways to remain undetected, and they will study, practice, and learn appropriate approaches to social situations. Sounds easy enough, but in fact these strategies take a lot of work and can more often than not lead to exhaustion, withdrawal, anxiety, selective mutism, and depression.”

—	Dr. Shana Nichols

Honestly, every time someone with a PhD tells me something about autism, I cringe a little bit.  It's a reflex.  It's not to say that there are no experts in the field of autism.  It's just that, as an autistic person, it's sometimes hard to believe that there is anyone in the world who can understand my brain better than I can.  I know from experience that every autistic brain is unique, and I'm certain that I would not be an expert in anyone else's brain but my own.  So sometimes, it takes me aback when people - despite high education - make generalized statements like this about autistics.  Because it's so important that we remember that all autistics are unique.   

However, I'll admit, this quotation describes me perfectly.  I have done - and continue to do - every one of the activities Dr. Nichols mentions.  I mimic, I watch, I camouflage.  I study, I practice, I learn.  It is a constant struggle, it requires constant analysis, and it means that my brain is always "on."  For years, I was exhausted from analyzing everything and trying to make sense of the world.  I was anxious any time I had to be around people, because it became a job to try to understand them.  When I am very frustrated, I communicate only in sign language or by writing.  I have experienced depression for years.