I know it's been a while since I last wrote, but I've been thinking about this all day. Triggers: I've seen a lot of people over the years say that triggers don't exist, that trigger warnings are coddling, and while I had never been triggered I disagreed with the critics. People have a right to feel safe. Today, however, I realized that I have triggers. And for the last few months I've been getting triggered at work to the point where I almost need to go home sick because the anxiety is out of control. But I can't. So I suck it up and text my boyfriend freaking out.
What triggers me? One of my bosses is a recovering alcoholic, a depressive who self-medicated with booze and who still self-medicates with prescription drugs from time to time. When Robin Williams died, it hit him hard - probably because he empathized so much with what was coming out about Williams being diagnosed and not wanting to be a burden to his family. Occasionally he would try and reach out in the way some suicidal people will - by making light of it, but still making the cry for help clear. My co-worker yelled at him because my boss had offended her and I sat there silently texting my boyfriend freaking out about how I felt I couldn't breathe.
What little I said in conversation with my co-workers over the next few days was bathed in generalities, of knowledge they could assume I picked up dealing with friends and learned at school. My co-worker revealed her dad tried to commit suicide when she was 11, or 13 (I can't remember). I refused to reveal that I've attempted suicide consciously 2 times, unconsciously at least twice - if not more. I went to the bathroom and hyperventilated, told my boyfriend it was too much for me to take, and then I went back to work.
This week it was revealed that my boss had relapsed. Today he dragged me into it, although I think he just sees a kindred spirit and a friendly face and I was not offended by being dragged in. He's supposed to be detoxing but the massive amount of cologne he was wearing today said otherwise. His son is the one who hired me, who runs my company, who owns the company I work for, so when I got back I let him know and then I told my co-workers. We're a small family unit, in some ways. They don't think he's recovering at all and neither do I. Then my co-worker revealed that my boss' wife is blaming him for causing her even more pain while her brother and mother lay dying in nursing homes and I got triggered.
I was triggered the same way I was when Robin Williams died, when my boss suggested suicide was a viable option for him. I freaked out internally, didn't contribute much to the conversation, kept my eyes firmly on work and tried not to listen to my co-workers discuss it. I focused on talk of what addicts go through when they detox and not the underlying issues of what it means to have a mental illness and be blamed for being sick.And I continued to keep my mouth shut.
There is so much of my life that I am hesitant to reveal, that I simply refuse to talk about. I am still processing so much of what happened in my life because I can only cope with so much emotional trauma at one time. Most of the rare times I've revealed parts of my history I typically kept quiet about I've been ridiculed and belittled. Now I don't talk about it, even though I probably should - and I don't really know how to begin. The thought of opening my mouth to start telling someone new paralyzes me.
And I continue to have anxiety attacks. And be triggered without even realizing I was being triggered. I hide behind sarcasm and immerse myself in books and video games until the anxiety goes away and I forget and I'm happy again. Most of the time I don't even know how to talk to my boyfriend about it, I just talk about the here and now of the anxiety attack happening. Some of that is because he doesn't know how to deal with it, but mostly it's because I don't want to scare him. Not scare him into running away but scare him into hiding the pill bottles like my mom did for a while in high school, to watch every action I take like it might be my last. I could never handle that - I value my independence too much. And I get through every attack without wanting to commit suicide or harm myself, so there's no point in worrying him. It's enough that he knows it was in my past and that he supports me.
There is no way to end this. This is a lifelong battle that started when I was really young and that I will never be able to cure. But I'm on my way to doing so much more than survive it.
Except on days when I'm triggered.
dededos
andulkaphoto
origamiaround
germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
areudirty