those often tiny, always intrusive things that needle their way under your skin and fire off the unwanted memories and flashbacks. fuses to the explosive nature of fear and anxiety. sometimes all i have to do is read a word or three and BOOM, another trigger hits. i wish it wasn’t that way. or at least that i had control over the extent of the damage done. and not always just to me. i have yelled at people “for no good reason”. problem is, i don’t always know at the time what’s causing my action – much less that it’s actually a RE-action to something else.
lost way too many ‘friends’ because of triggered actions.
good, bad, or indifferent – the triggers are there. i used to think they were me, but not any more. yes, they are a part of me, but i am more than just the triggers. i am all those wonderful events that follow the trigger being ‘pulled’.
i am the one that does the damage. i am the one that pays the price. i am the one that has no explanation all too often for what i have said, other than i’m angry. and that’s not much of an reason when you don’t know the fire that’s underneath.
i am the one that hurts and hurts others.
i am the smoking gun.