I had a mini - something - about a year ago. DH had some health problems, and I wanted him to have some valium to help him through it. Well, we both wanted this. I was in the Doctor's surgery with him. Whether I was right or wrong is irrelevant, because the Doc said no. I had been going through hell with DH, (nothing violent) and this refusal was the very last straw. I burst into tears right there in the surgery, and the GP seemed to assume I was being abused. Later my husband ranted at me for my 'weakness and stupidity' all the way home in the car, for making it look like I was being abused. As if it had been intentional.
I went into the bedroom and curled up on the bed and considered suicide for a while. Then I realised after an hour or two that there was no help and no sympathy around, because asking for help would just open up a can of worms and cause more bother, so I knew I'd better get back to normal, or at least put on an act.
The whole thing eventually faded, DH sorted himself out, and I got back to coping.
But for a while back there I completely and utterly failed to cope.
Perhaps it was a mini nervous breakdown.