Breaking down

For whatever reason -- long, difficult semester; family troubles; lack of encouragement; lack of sleep; lack of true vacation; lack of anything resembling equanimity about law school anymore -- I had a truly stupendous breakdown in my negotiation professor's office on Tuesday afternoon while talking to him about my paper.

First it was just tearing up over the prospect of having to change directions on the paper when I have no time to rewrite it, then it was long supremely uncomfortable silent moments when I was suppressing sobs trying not to wail, and then it crescendoed into tears that just would not stop, and I nearly ran out of his office, head down, clutching a Kleenex and burning with embarrassment and misery.

It's not that he didn't like my paper idea, but he also never really said anything encouraging about it, instead suggesting all kinds of things I could do in lieu of my original plan, all of which were fine ideas and that I would have taken constructively had I not been on the precipice anyway. (Although, he also didn't say things that would have been really helpful, things like "I would probably do it this way" or "I like that idea" or "Damn, you're really stressed. Why don't I give you an extension?")

The paper is about my family, and how to negotiate some difficulties we've been having, so I'm sure that is at core what the problem was. As the prof pointed out, I'm good at compartmentalizing and focusing on what needs to get done, but when the thing you need to get done requires you to reach into the big box where all the scary, dark, troubled hobgoblins lurk, it's hard to focus.

Strangely -- have you had this happen to you? -- it was made worse by his expressions of sympathy. At one point, having already teared up and again on the verge of tears, I decided I should go before I totally broke down (ha!). So I managed a tight smile and said thanks and tapped my papers into order, and he said, "Wait. I can't let you go like this." And then I totally bawled. And couldn't stop.

I said something inane about his class being very useful to me because I had learned skills to use in these personal situations, and while I was saying this, tears were running down my blotchy red face and he said, "Thank you," and handed me a tissue. Which was kind of funny.

His secretary yelped an astonished, "My god, are you all right?" when I walked out, and I think I gasped out a "Ye-es, I'm fi-ine" before rushing away to cry for another 15 minutes in the nearest bathroom.

Well, it was about time for breakdown. I don't think I've had like that since my first year of law school. I wish it hadn't been so public, though.

On the up side, I think the possibility of getting an extension have been greatly enhanced.

Funny, I'm not really that embarrassed about it. I don't particularly care if people know I'm having a hard time of it. I would be deeply sympathetic if someone was so clearly in so much distress, and I know most people are the same way. I just... I don't know. It's a hard time.

God, I really hope he gives me that extension. I worked 14 hours yesterday on corporations and my brain is fried, which is why I did virtually nothing today about bankruptcy.