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Trigger Me This

How I’ll Avoid My Next Freak Out

By Kacie MainPublished 5 years ago 8 min read
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We’ve all been there. It’s a simple comment, question, gesture, lack of a gesture—something he does or doesn’t do, does or doesn’t say that sets you off. You didn’t see it coming. He didn’t see it coming. But before either of you know it, you’re in total freak out mode.

What do I mean by freak out mode? It’s an overreaction that you don’t really understand…but that you cling to and relentlessly defend. You don’t know why some little thing set you off and quite frankly, you don’t care. You feel how you feel and you ride that wave of emotion...oftentimes drowning in it. Sometimes it presents as anger and other times as tears. Sometimes it’s out loud, and other times it’s a silent tirade in your head.

I’ve been no stranger to these freak outs in my lifetime. But my most recent one was different… I was more aware of what was happening. Almost like I was an outsider watching it, yet totally stuck in it at the same time. And because of the odd duality of that perspective, I came out the other side with a better understanding of what really happened…and how to avoid it in the future.

But first, the freak out…

It was a simple text. A no-big-deal change of plans. I would have never expected it to upset me.

But when I read it, a pain—a legit physical pain—bubbled up from deep within my heart. I think I even brought my hands to my chest, gasping in surprise at this unexpected visitor. And then two things happened so quickly they were almost simultaneous.

First, a distant memory flashed by—too quick and too old to fully grasp. But it contained that feeling… that pain in my heart. I knew it’s been here before.

Then I felt everything shut off. It was like the joy, the lightheartedness, and the love in my body scurried inside my heart and shut all the doors and windows. Emptiness left in its place. Then the all too familiar voice of a defense mechanism disguised as a strong, independent female rushed in to fill the void—

This is bullshit.

I don’t need this.

He’s just like the others.

I don’t want to deal with this.

I’m better off on my own.

The barrage of thoughts came so suddenly I couldn’t stop them; they were so loud I couldn’t quiet them. And just as quickly as they flooded my brain, they closed my heart. Shut the gates around it…gates I had (successfully!) been prying open over the past three months. Just like that, all the progress was gone. Just like that, I was back to an all too familiar feeling – guarded. Closed off. Just like that, the man I had been letting in was abruptly pushed out.

Over the next 24 hours, it took a concerted effort not to externally freak out. It was chaos in my brain…and complete silence in my heart. There was something different this time though—I knew what was really happening. I knew it wasn’t really about the text…it wasn’t about the change of plans…it was really all about me and my past shit. I knew that, but still, I couldn’t pull myself out of my head…a head that was stuck in total defense mode. And that frustrated me to no end.

I knew the text set something off in me. It triggered something. And that trigger caused an avalanche of mess from my past to cascade into my present. I was now buried in that mess and I was desperately trying to break free.

But I couldn’t…and that just frustrated me more. So there I was—super upset at the change of plans, fully aware that my feelings actually had nothing to do with the change of plans, and completely frustrated that the awareness wasn’t winning the battle. If I knew it wasn’t the text that actually upset me, why couldn’t I stop being upset about the text?

And that’s where I went wrong. I was trying to bust out of the avalanche as quickly as I got buried. But it doesn’t work that way. It took a while for that mess to pile up, and it takes a while for it to clear away. When you’re buried, you can’t just jump out…you have to climb out.

So after several hours of frantically telling myself to stop feeling how I was feeling and failing every time, I finally took a new approach…

I tried to understand the trigger…and the mess it brought down on me.

Why did the simple change of plans bother me? Plans change in my life all the time and I don’t freak out. What made this different? I sat with this question for a long time. I knew it was my way out. I decided to break down what happened and try to find where parts of it paralleled bigger themes in my tumultuous relationship history. Themes that built the mess.

I found two.

First—he said he would do something and now he wasn’t going to do that. Ugh, the memories that came with that theme…

I once ran all over town piecing together costumes for a Halloween party only to be told an hour before the party that he wasn’t up for it. I got all dressed up for a New Year’s Eve night out that didn’t happen. I was promised phone calls that didn’t come and dates that didn’t occur. I bought tickets to events that went unattended.

I could never rely on anyone. I couldn’t rely on plans and I couldn’t rely on promises.

Second—this change of plans resulted in him giving his time to someone/something else instead of me. More unpleasant memories surfaced…

On my way to the airport leaving a family Thanksgiving early to get back home for his birthday only to get a text saying he was leaving town for a football game. Plans cancelled because of everything from work and home renovations to nights at the bar and naps.

I was never the priority… not even in thought. I’ve had birthdays unnoticed, Christmas’ with no gift, and days go by with no communication.

They’re painful themes. No wonder they piled up some serious mess.

To be clear, I don’t pretend to be a total victim. I put myself in those situations and I chose to stay in those situations. And maybe that’s why the triggers exist. Maybe they’re my brain’s attempt at saving me from myself. A booby trap set so no one could get close enough to my heart to hurt it again.

But clearly, my brain is a little too trigger happy… because in this very benign current scenario, a small change of plans that doesn’t hold near the weight or significance of any of my past experiences had escalated in my brain to I can’t rely on him and I’m not a priority.

Poor guy. One simple text and he had inherited years and years of other mens’ wrongs.

I knew he didn’t deserve that. He shouldn’t have to pay for the mistakes of others. He deserves a fair chance…a clean slate.

And I certainly don’t want to experience another unexpected, inexplicable borderline freak out. So, I devised a strategy—an excavation plan—for the next time my past mess comes crashing down on me:

  • Step 1: Take a deep breath—know that it’s going to take some time to climb out so don’t do or say anything drastic.
  • Step 2: Identify the trigger—why am I really upset? It’s not about what happened…it’s about what I think what happened means. What is the bigger picture theme that I’m attaching to what happened?
  • Step 3: Question it—does what happened really mean what I think it means? (Hint: the answer is probably no.) Or am I assigning meaning to it based on past experiences? (Hint: the answer is probably yes.) This is a tricky one. Because while I don’t want the past to define the present, I still need to be on the lookout for themes so I don’t stay in a bad situation (again). The key here is to not let past themes carry into the present. Everyone deserves a clean slate. Everyone gets to build their own theme—good or bad.
  • Step 4: Understand—avoiding the trigger doesn’t make it go away. Pretending it’s not there won’t disable it. The only way to remove it is to find its source…where did it come from? What (or who) put it there in the first place? Understanding it removes its power…because now I can see through it.
  • Step 5: Face it—trust that while the trigger may win a battle from time to time, it won’t win the war. Because now I know it’s there. I know where it resides. I know where it came from. I know the mess it rains down on me and how to dig myself out. But more importantly, I know that time will render it useless. The stockpile of past mess is only so big—with each heap that crashes into my present, the past pile is depleted. And one day, there will be nothing left to trigger. The mess will be gone.

Triggers hurt. We all have them. They exist for different reasons in all of us and they vary in size and impact...but we all have them. Some make you slightly annoyed, some make you angry, some make you offended, and others—like the one I experienced—hurt your heart.

But I’ve learned we have an important choice in how we handle these triggers. We can attempt to create a life where we avoid them; where we tiptoe around them; where anyone who accidentally hits one is blamed and punished for wrongs from our past. Or…we can remove them. It takes patience and brutally honest self-reflection…but it can be done.

I understand why my brain put the triggers there and I’m grateful for the desire to protect me. But I don’t want protection. I want to be free. Free from the triggers. Free from the mess. Free from the gates around my heart. Free to let the joy, the lightheartedness, and the love back out. Free to let people in.

Free from freak outs.

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About the Creator

Kacie Main

being in progress. lover of sunrises. party girl turned spiritual junkie. oh, and I like to write. check me out at www.kaciemain.com

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