On Being Triggered

You’ve always had the power my dear, you just had to learn it for yourself. -The Wizard of Oz

A couple of evenings ago I was having a good time with someone I’ve known since childhood. We lost touch for almost 3 decades after high school, and though we live near each other now, we don’t know all that much of the years in between for each of us. I presume we’ve each had numerous experiences to make us who we are today, for better or worse, but we don’t talk about them because they don’t really come up all that often. We tend to focus on the immediate happenings, and if anything, the future. So perhaps it’s not surprising that with all going on for me I was caught off guard when I was triggered by what might otherwise have been an innocuous action by this person.

That’s the thing with a trigger. They tend to happen when you least expect it and catch you off guard.

I was paying for dinner and instead of waiting for me, he said he’d meet me at the next place we were headed. I thought this was a bit odd, but normally I’d just think “whatever.” Maybe he had a private call to make, maybe he was really thirsty, maybe I was boring, maybe I had something in my teeth, or maybe I smelled bad. Who knows? Usually I tend to brush these things off. Only as I stood waiting alone, memories of all the times I’d been in a similar situation crept in. When I’d been left behind. Walked in front of. My presence ignored. Like a tsunami, memories and feelings crashed through my mind and overwhelmed me in an instant. The times I was not considered, the times I’d been made to feel insignificant in front of others, the times I felt ashamed by being treated as less than a person, all by someone who supposedly cared for me. As I filled out the receipt, my hand started to shake just a bit and my stomach started to ache. I smiled at my friend who owns the place as she asked if I’d enjoyed my meal. I mumbled a response and then went to the restroom. Closing the door, I leaned against it and bent over, sick to my stomach, trying to breathe.

It’s okay to not be okay.

I texted my two friends who know just a little of what I’ve been through. I told them what happened and that I was holed up in the bathroom but was supposed to meet someone at a bar. I didn’t know what to do. They told me, go home. It’s okay. Just relax. Rest. You owe no one anything. Take care of yourself.

Tempting. But that wasn’t the answer. I was tired of running. I was tired of hiding away in my shell. I knew if I left I’d feel defeated, all over again. I had broken free but I was still being controlled by my own emotions; I was still giving my power away to someone who did not deserve that control. Plus, I would feel rude not showing up when I said I would. It was not this person’s fault I was feeling this way. He did not know anything about my past and my struggles. It felt wrong to let my past cloud the present. I had been enjoying myself until that moment. Why let this ruin my evening?

Life happens. But you can control how you react.

I opened the bathroom door and put a smile on my face. Don’t they say if you smile it stimulates feelings of happiness? I haven’t done enough research to know if it’s true, but I figured it can’t hurt. I walked, slowly to the next destination, and started to breathe. In. Out. One foot forward, then the next, until I was at the entrance of the bar. And stopped. To breathe again. In. Out.

I’m not sure how long I stood there. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to be alone with all these feelings, maybe it was because I dislike breaking my word and don’t like to be rude, maybe it was because I am stubborn as heck and I refused to let someone control me, but I walked into the bar and sat down. I like to think I have a great poker face but maybe that’s not true, or maybe this person is just very intuitive, because he immediately asked me what was wrong. “Nothing” may not have been a convincing answer but it was the only one I wanted to share. Ordering a drink, the evening resumed.

Don’t let the past dictate your present or future.

Because. It is nothing now. I am not who I was before. Or maybe it’s better to say I’m who I was before it all happened. And though the shadows of my past are there, ghosts that pop into my world every now and then, they only exist in today if I give them the power to be real. The fact that these memories and feelings are being triggered is a good sign to me. I’d had to tightly control my feelings for so long to survive it’s a relief to feel, to know that my walls are crumbling so I can rebuild by working through everything that’s released from behind them. I have shifted my world and now I have the power to create a new one that fits who I truly am. I just have to remind myself, every now and then. And breathe.