The first time I had a meltdown at work, I thought I’d ruined everything. I slammed the phone down so hard it echoed across the office, ran out the door, and locked myself in the stairwell, shaking and hyperventilating. My heart was racing, my skin felt like it was on fire, and every noise—footsteps, voices, the hum of the HVAC—was like a personal assault.
I crouched in the corner, rocking back and forth, trying to breathe, trying to not exist for a minute. It was one of the worst moments of my professional life. But it was also the start of me understanding what I needed to survive in a world that wasn’t built for people like me.
What a Meltdown Feels Like
A meltdown isn’t just “losing it.” It’s not a tantrum or an overreaction. For me, it’s what happens when my brain can’t process the chaos anymore. It’s like my fight-or-flight response gets stuck on “fight,” and every part of me screams for an escape.
During a meltdown, I can’t think clearly. Words don’t come out right. Logic disappears. It’s pure, primal panic. And the worst part? I can’t stop it.
The stairwell meltdown happened because of a phone call. A woman from another department was asking me for information I didn’t have. I tried to explain—again and again—that she had the wrong person, but she wouldn’t let it go. Each word felt like a hammer, pounding against my already frazzled nerves. By the time I hung up, I was shaking so badly I could barely stand.
Why Do Meltdowns Happen?
Meltdowns are often triggered by sensory overload, stress, or a combination of both. In my case, it’s usually a perfect storm of too much noise, too many demands, and not enough time to recover.
Workplaces are especially hard. The open floor plan means constant noise and interruptions. The fluorescent lights buzz like angry hornets. Deadlines loom like storm clouds. And the social politics? Don’t even get me started.
Most people can brush off small frustrations throughout the day, but for me, those frustrations pile up until they’re unbearable. A rude email, a loud coworker, or even a broken coffee machine can push me over the edge if I’m already at my limit.
What I Learned From That Meltdown
- Escape Is Okay. The stairwell became my safe space that day. It was quiet, empty, and dimly lit—exactly what I needed to calm down. Now, I always scope out a quiet retreat wherever I work.
- I Need Recovery Time. After the meltdown, I went back to my desk and pretended nothing happened, but inside, I was still unraveling. I’ve since learned to give myself a few minutes (or even an hour) to decompress after stressful moments.
- It’s Not My Fault. For years, I blamed myself for meltdowns. I thought I was weak or broken. But now I understand that my brain just works differently, and that’s okay.
- Communication Is Key. I eventually told my boss about my autism and what triggers meltdowns for me. It wasn’t easy, but it led to accommodations like noise-canceling headphones and flexible deadlines.
How to Support Someone During a Meltdown
If you see someone having a meltdown, here’s what you can do:
- Give Them Space. Don’t crowd them or try to “fix” the situation. Let them retreat if they need to.
- Reduce Sensory Input. Turn off bright lights, lower the volume, or offer a quiet room.
- Don’t Touch Them. Even well-meaning physical contact can feel overwhelming.
- Be Patient. A meltdown is like a storm—it has to pass on its own.
And most importantly, don’t judge. A meltdown is a response to overwhelming stress, not a character flaw.
Visual Snapshot
As I write this, I’m sitting in my car outside the office. The sky is a pale gray, the kind that makes the world feel muted and calm. My thermos of tea sits in the cupholder, still warm, and my favorite stim toy—a silicone tangle—rests on the dashboard.
It’s my pre-work ritual: ten minutes of quiet before stepping into the noise and chaos. It’s not a perfect system, but it helps.
FAQ
Q: Are meltdowns the same as tantrums?
A: No. A tantrum is typically a deliberate act to get attention or a specific outcome. A meltdown is an involuntary response to overwhelming stress or sensory input.
Q: How can I tell if I’m about to have a meltdown?
A: For me, it starts with physical tension—clenched fists, a racing heart, shallow breaths. Recognizing these signs early can help you take steps to prevent a full meltdown.
Q: What’s the difference between a meltdown and shutdown?
A: A meltdown is outward—crying, yelling, or fleeing. A shutdown is inward, where you go silent, withdraw, or freeze. Both are responses to overload.
Final Thoughts
Meltdowns aren’t fun. They’re exhausting, embarrassing, and sometimes downright terrifying. But they’re also a reminder that I need to listen to my body and respect its limits.
If you’ve ever had a meltdown, know this: you’re not weak, and you’re not alone. It’s okay to struggle, and it’s okay to take care of yourself.
And if you need me, I’ll be in the stairwell with my noise-canceling headphones, taking a moment to breathe.
