Don’t you just hate that? Trigger alert, a little internet quirk people use to attempt to manipulate others into silence, to shut down the conversation. I think it makes me so crazy because life has been triggering me since the day I was born. It has a way of doing that. Allow me a moment of self-pity here, but I don’t recall life ever backing off and saying, “Oh, I’m sorry, are we upsetting you?”
Even worse, not only are my triggers completely ignored, often they actually move in with me. My mother for example. Big trigger alert. Gee, thanks life.
I jest here somewhat and I don’t say these things to be mean to the woman. There has been so much healing and forgiveness, on my part anyway. She still seems annoyed with me for having been born, but I have long since stopped apologizing for that one.
I grew up in the midst of a huge custody battle, my mother is narcissist, she basically kidnapped me and we went underground. She told me my father was dead, and later when I finally found his letters, he doesn’t love you. So there were some issues there, there was some trauma. Her particular form of narcissism causes her to treat people as hostages. I was in the possession of my mother, let me tell you. It’s not me, it’s not personal, it’s just her, she takes people and things hostage and possesses them.
When she first moved in, she took possession of our dog and we let her because she needed a friend. Today no one else is really allowed to talk to the dog or play with him anymore. He is her possession and she keeps him with her in her room. So every now and then the dog escapes and she gets bent out of shape and tells him, “you better chose who you want to be with.” You traitor, I’ll reject you, I won’t love you anymore if you don’t stick your nose up at those people who are petting you and come with me now.
I’m serious, she does this, and every now and then hubby steps in and demands she leave the dog be, let him visit with his family. I usually just grit my teeth, grin and bear it, but last night I realized, oh dear, I am that dog. That dog is me. She treats that dog just like she used to treat me.
It was very triggering, my heart began to race, I was breathing faster, slipping away as the horror of what I was witnessing began to resonate, all those memories flooding back. I am that dog. That dog is me. She’s suffocating that poor dog. She’s suffocating that poor me.
Walk, walk is what I do, right now, right away, walk it off. Without my dog, I might add. Darn woman has kidnapped my walking dog.
Triggers can be hard, they don’t hit me very often and they aren’t serious, but that is mostly because I have learned how to recognize them and deal with them. Walking works well for me. After a few blocks I get calmer, a few more and I forget what was bothering me. I’ve heard rumors that if you walk far enough you’ll forget who you are and heck, once you forget that, you’ve got it made.