GET AWAY FROM ME!

I experienced the first meltdown like the teachers have been describing Saturday night. We went to a play, and everything was amazing. We were all having a great time together. We walked to the foyer to greet the actors. Everything was fine. We were all having a great time together. Then suddenly we weren't. I heard him shout from across the room. It was full of adults and I couldn't find him right away. I was dumb for letting him go that far anyway, knowing he's overwhelmed in big crowds. In the 3 seconds it took me to reach him he went from bad to worse. Brooke had set him off. He began screaming at her. That he hated her. I picked him up and took him to the edge of the room. He started to scream at me. GET AWAY FROM ME GET AWAY FROM ME GET AWAY FROM ME!!!! I couldn't get him to calm down so I asked the stranger that was closest to me to watch my purse on the table and rushed him to the bathroom. Once we got in there he continued to scream GET AWAY FROM ME GET AWAY FROM ME GET AWAY FROM ME!! He started kicking me, or trying to anyway. When he couldn't make contact he began stomping my foot. He grabbed my arms and started to scratch. I managed to get my arms around him, not tight enough to fully restrain him. Just enough to where he couldn't hurt me. I sat with him in my lap and started to rock him. Back and forth. Side to side. The whole time saying, it's mommy. I've got you. You're okay. You don't need to be mad anymore. It's quiet in here baby, you can breathe now. Take a deep breath. Bryson look at me. He kept eyes shut tightly the whole time, tears streaming down his face. Not saying anything but those 3 words. GET AWAY FROM ME GET AWAY FROM ME GET AWAY FROM ME!!! People came and went from the bathroom. A few asked if I needed anything, I just shook my head. He finally stopped screaming. Just whispered,  get away from me over and over again. He slowed down long enough for me to get a full sentence in. I stood him up and asked him if he was ready to go. He shook his head, so we stood there. We stood there in silence. His breathing and eyes telling me a story, my eyes fighting tears. From my frustration, my embarrassment, but mostly from the emotion my son was feeling. I could tell he didn't know what he was feeling. He couldn't express that he was mad, or why. He couldn't verbalize what was running through his head, and unfortunately for both of us.... I can't read minds. After a total of 20 minutes in the bathroom, I asked if he was ready to go. He nodded yes. So we walked out of the bathroom, found the other 2 kids and got ready to leave. One of the ladies who had asked if I need anything patted my shoulder and said.... "You're doing great momma. You handled that perfectly." If only I felt as confident as I looked. I forced a smile at her, and we walked to the car. Less than an hour later we were home and it was like nothing had ever happened. I got snuggles, and kisses. I watched Brooke's patience shine as she taught Bryson to play minecraft. He went to bed at 10:15, no fight. He was out by 10:20. Nothing even remotely close to that happened the rest of the weekend. I don't know what triggered it. I don't know how to prevent it from happening again. I just know, I'll love him through it when it does.