The One Where I Get Triggered

My first sip of coffee each morning is done looking through the window over the sink in the kitchen. It doesn’t matter which house, because most homes I’ve lived in, save for one, have had a window directly over or next to the kitchen sink. I did this while living in our rented farmhouse last year surrounded by fields and cows. There was a trailer park next door, where we got to know the most wonderful dog named Jericho, and his owner. One of the RV’s constantly called an ambulance, like every two weeks, but the workers seemed calm, as if it were a time-honored tradition (against their will). Another trailer housed two black labradors and an owner who warned other dogs not to get too close, even when crossing through your yard (property’s a construct anyway). The trailer behind that had a wooden fence that echoed the sounds of premature teenage fits from a 9-year-old boy, directed at his mother in regards to playing or retiring for the evening. 

This morning tradition of taking my first beverage sip staring yonder over the hills, roads, homes, or blank walls comes from a need to be more present and take single moments for just what they are, a single moment of stillness. Our days become whirlwinds, but broken down with a magnifying glass there are moments of stillness riddled throughout. Therefore, as a "life scientist", it is our job to find them. Dig them up. Pry them out. On the days where mental health is a dense jungle, a life can depend on these moments.

Let me define a “trigger” for you. I could spend numerous posts discussing them, and probably will, but for now, I’ll leave it at this:

“A trigger in psychology is a stimulus such as a smell, sound, or sight that triggers feelings of trauma.” (goodtherapy.org)

Now, I am a human who experiences happiness and joy on a regular basis. I am a human who loves getting up everyday with the day’s promise. I’m also a human who experiences triggers every single day in the strangest and subtlest of ways. I’m also a human. These things are not mutually exclusive. I just started believing that this week for the first time in my life. Like, actually believing that I am not an anxious person, but a person who experiences anxiety. You are not a depressed person, you experience depressive states. I cannot tell you the enormous freedom that comes from changing the language we use to describe ourselves and others. We change the language, we change the narrative.

Have you ever seen a friend or family member after a long time and reverted to an old habit with them? Freaky, right? Triggers are built the same way we build new and healthy things. As an actor, we build associations and emotional connections with objects, words, people, you name it. It’s wonderfully magical and helpful in creating art. It’s wonderfully terrifying when you’ve done it with your everyday life. Showers have been difficult for me lately. And no, not just because I hate brushing my hair. The first two weeks living in Maryland, getting into one specific shower in this house induced episodes where my body went into panic, but my mind knew what was happening and could talk and joke through it. It didn’t make it any less awful, but I experienced these particular kinds of episodes in my early twenties and had a clue about what was happening. After one of these, I feel weak for a bit and have to re-center to remember what I was trying to do right before. My body remembers something that I don’t and the closed-in space, or the color, or the way the sound bounces off the walls, something sends my mind flying backwards. I’ve also been experiencing a lot of “have I been here before?”. Like, dejavu, but the nightmare version? I’ve debated many times sharing these things, because I often wonder if it affects the way I’m seen as a competent and responsible professional. You know what that is, folks? That’s a damn stigma, and I’m going to crush it today.

Anyways, it makes sense that a big ol’ transition in my life, oh say….MOVING, would cause a brain to readjust and figure out what the hell the new normal is. I experience triggers in other ways even when I lived in Virginia for five years, but the triggers change and rotate based on the theme of the current life climate. Isn’t that fun? My mind has theme days, like spirit week if you’re into terrorizing yourself.

But, y’all, here’s an exciting discovery this week. In my last post, I proposed the question, 

“Who Am I?”, 

and then I listened to a few podcast episodes, recommended by a friend, between Oprah (Goddess) and Eckhart Tolle. One thing pounced at me and it was this concept: someone goes to Eckhart and says “I feel lost. I don’t know who I am”, and he replies, “Congratulations!”, much to their dismay. Not knowing who you are is the beginning of freedom and separating yourself from the things that happen to you or have previously defined you. A lot of these things can be loving and good. You are a mother, you are a lover, you are a giver. Yes, indeed, but not solely. You have a quiet child in you who needs nurturing, and also the rally cry in times that require leadership and strength. And even the good stuff in our lives doesn’t need to define our existence. Are you still with me? 

The reason this is becoming helpful for me, is that in times of dissociation (when I experience anxious moments that leave me feeling lost), I repeat, “Who Am I”, like Eckhart describes monks chanting while meditating. You aren’t supposed to answer the question, but rather remind yourself that this is simply a chemical reaction happening to me and my body, in this moment. It does not define my day or my soul. It is happening, and then the next moment will happen. I’ll get my coffee, I’ll stare out the window, and I will be present with my silent self, the one stripped of any labels. Basically, just the one that loves coffee. I think that’s actually the most basic version of me. Coffee. And staring.

By saying, “who am I”, I somehow become less afraid of feeling out of control. The only thing I’m capable of controlling is the knowledge that I am there, through it all, no labels, just being. The noise in my head doesn’t diminish how brightly the sun is shining that day, even when it feels like it does. I will experience many more triggers in my lifetime, because hardwiring takes years of practice to untangle, and life is buzzing with stimuli. Out of control in one moment doesn’t define your capabilities for the next moment. Onward, friends!

Here are some recent photos of friends & fam following my art-director orders:

the plant followed my orders, too

Aren't my twin brothers fantastic? You can check their fashion instagrams @pennyclother and @goodwillhelmina