I am a meltdown professional and here to offer my clinical opinion.

Let's begin with defining what a meltdown is: reaching utter mental exhaustion and sobbing over your inability to get-your-shit-together.

I have a meltdown once a week - at least. The basis of my meltdowns usually begin with me downplaying my accomplishments, comparing my (now) insignificant accomplishments to others, mourning over undefined goals (who has time for planning goals? Not someone who has meltdowns), then crying because I haven't reached any future goals; goals, which, I still have not defined.

We all have had the universal sensation at one point or another that something is missing from our lives. You may not clearly understand what exactly is missing, but soon you feel like an insignificant failure and you're suddenly sobbing in your concerned boyfriend's arms with his mouth gaping at you thinking, "Are you bipolar?" Maybe. This is a meltdown of the third-kind, ladies and gentleman.

Without warning, you feel the sensation swelling inside yourself, and the tears form in your ducts and your chest is bursting for air as you utter shrieking cries. Someone might have guessed you received horrible news... No, just my Third-World tears of incompleteness.

Learn the steps to have a meltdown, cry is all out of your system, then whip your hair back and forth like you're Beyonce.

Step one: Do not compare your progress (or lack thereof) to others on social media.

If you're a 20-something like me, you've probably had the notion you should be someone important by now. Come on, you're out of college, scraping by at the restaurant you've been working at for five years and your to-do list hangs on the refrigerator where you left it since New Years. Never get on Facebook when you are feeling "meltdown-ish." You will instantly feel like a piece of s*** when you see the Business Today article of the 29-year-old entrepreneur who started a Fortune 500 consulting business.

As your meltdown inches closer to the ledge, you notice "Facebook friends" progressing toward some meaningful direction. Selfies on mountain tops, new jobs, master's degrees, trips abroad, having babies, photography businesses or blogs, moving away or moving on. I have no idea how to help you, let alone help myself. But what I can tell you is deleting Facebook helped me channel inward and forget comparing everyone's journey to my own. That is always a good feeling.

Step two: Stop creating obstacles for yourself.

We stick to our meltdown routine and make excuses for ourselves to justify our actions, or lack of actions toward reaching fulfillment. I often think, "there are too many paths to take, too many risks of failing." So I chose to be still and trap myself inside the walls I've built around me. I do not enjoy being afraid of everything and condoning self-sabotage. But here I am. I snooze my 5 a.m. alarm and miss the sunrise. I neglect time at the gym, feeling more inclined to take a nap above all else. I suck myself into a Netflix vortex rather than cultivate my passions for writing, art and exercise. I want to master routine and prove I can be disciplined. But there I go again with the trapdoor trick. It's a cycle and it takes small efforts every day. Sometimes I give up entirely. Other days I feel proud of myself. Taking ownership of your actions is the only guarantee we have granted to us in this world.

Step three: Avoid annoying everyone close to you.

Here is an example. I came home and walked through the front door. Gnats were flying over milk-crusted dishes, the garbage disposal smelt foul, the windows hadn't been opened in weeks, sweaty gym clothes were scattered on the furniture and chaos was everywhere. I felt a meltdown coming. I hate the thought of wasting my precious time cleaning a house. It's pointless and seems to always get messy again. But this time, the house badly needed some TLC.

We both exchange irritating comments, "Why can't we keep a clean house?" The other partner makes excuses or promises that neutralize the discussion, but we never arrive to cleanliness.

I drop my bags at the door and with my work clothes still on, I march toward the cleaning supplies without a kiss or greeting to my honey. Immediately he is annoyed. I reach a tipping point of rage, and race around cleaning surfaces top to bottom with vigor and indifference until I calm myself into the holiness of newfound cleanliness. As a couple, my meltdowns create space between us. Finally a humbled abode, we promise to do better about the house. But our disarray and neglect finds us in the same mess days later. Insert another meltdown.

Step four: Don't overuse the phrase "there is always tomorrow."

I despise that phrase because it implies you can stand idle today and deal with your drama tomorrow. If we have meltdowns without the phrase of tomorrow in hindsight, we can immediately analyze, and potentially change, our present situation. Tonight I had a meltdown, which is what sparked this cheeky article. I was crying to my boyfriend about my poor discipline and lack of progress in a few of my personal goals. He said to me, "You are so young, there is always tomorrow." I immediately flared up and thought to myself, "How many people hide behind this mentality of forever youth and guaranteed tomorrows?" I live a pretend notion that there is infinite time to plan out my goals. Soon enough, two months pass and little progress was made. My clinical opinion is to live like there is no tomorrow. Ride or die.

Meltdowns happen. Don't let it ruin your progress today.