I have decided to write this as a break from making up my mind, to write about another experience of my Child Sexual Abuse.
The word 'TRIGGER'
It sounds exactly like it is. Makes you freeze and then you die, for some time though. Do you know I carry this heaviness with me 24x7, since the time it has happened! It feels like a dark suffocating ghostly load on my upper back. With claws to dig in my skin. My skin that feels things. Sometimes when this dark load clenches its claws, it follows up with an immediate reaction in me.I can feel it pinching as a sensation only a tad bit too familiar.
A swift freeze</h2>
Then a flood of graphic flashback. Different sensations in the body and mind. Replaying of flashbacks. Realisation that the flashback is happening to me. A complete cut off from my reality. Enveloping myself with sadness, that one of my sexual abuse memory has been 'TRIGGERED'.
A sense of failure that I couldn't keep myself away from it</h2>
The words spoken to me ringing in my head. My physical reactions returning to my body as a haunting in constant progress. I don't want to be touched right then. Just let me be. The faces. The hellish flashbacks. Does it sound like a downhill?
This is a trigger for me! It is not about how it happens but why it happens, I think. I am writing this not to tell you how to avoid one or leave it all behind. I don't know it yet myself. I don't know if I want to learn to avoid or imbibe something better.
A trigger can be anything in your daily routine</h2>
A face, a feel, a word, a song, a line, a tone, an object, a scene, an experience…anything. Sometimes you search for them and sometimes they search for you. How does it feel to live in such sense of 'careful' every moment of your day?
You get up! You try to put your Brave on! And the world, as unscrupulous as it seems, keeps gnawing up at you, patiently awaiting for a single opportunity to clutch it claws deep into your skin and drag you all the way back to the abyss.
Snap out now!</h2>
You feel happy when you can snap out of triggers sooner than you did last time. If it is not sooner, then the burden on the back will drag you down to your knees till you are grinding your tongue into your feet's dust. Your survival instincts are operating at a full swing then.
Am I an expert in talking about this? No. But I experience this. I am narrating this. Why? Because it needs to be told. To all the right people. Who are the right people?