Triggered

I am being triggered. This Harvey Weinstein stuff is triggering.

I would like to start this blog post with a clever rhetorical line… but all I have is that very plain, gut-wrenching honesty.  As my friend J says, “my stuff is up.”  All of my the women in my tribe say it now. And though we have never defined it out loud, we all know that when we say it, there is a secret code that lies underneath. To say “my stuff is up” means that something is happening in my life or in the world that is triggering the deepest, most wounded part of me: the part that lives with the enduring pain of surviving child sexual abuse, incest or rape.  Or in my case, all three.

That part doesn’t go away just because you have a bunch of therapy sessions, write an un-sent letter, or hit the batting cage.  It doesn’t completely go away even if you find a wonderful spouse, do years of healing work, and find spiritual peace.  Don’t get me wrong- it can stay hidden for periods of time, sometimes very long ones. But then, usually when you least expect it – you are reminded.

Being reminded is not like remembering a nostalgic memory or flipping through a high school yearbook and wishing you hadn’t chosen that hairstyle.  It’s not even like smelling a certain casserole and remembering your grandmother’s funeral.  Being triggered is a visceral experience unlike any other I have ever experienced. Its heavy, its tight, its constricting, its flooding.  For me, it detonates in the pit of my stomach and contracts the energy in my body’s center into knot. I literally feel the adrenaline shoot through my limbs and I am suddenly, achingly sad and alone- not wanting to be seen.  That feeling used to also come with shame, guilt and silence.  Luckily, my sister-friends have helped me to let those things go.  But in that, comes the responsibility to allow and observe the rest of it.  To speak it.  To name it. That’s the only way it doesn’t eat you.

The over-use and messaging around ‘trigger warnings’ have done such a dis-service to survivors.  It makes it sound like being triggered is something that happens to ‘liberal snowflakes,’ overly-sensitive people and privileged, sheltered students. Unfortunately, something that was ideated as a way to protect traumatized people from unknowingly being triggered in a setting or time–frame where they were not prepared to cope, has turned into a slogan for sticking your head in the sand and not being exposed to difficult or challenging material. They are not the same thing.  Acknowledging, preparing for and sometimes avoiding being triggered is an important part of self-care.  But when something is all over the news, on social media, and in constant everyday conversation – it cannot be avoided.

The Harvey Weinstein stories have triggered me.  I have spent my entire adult life fighting off men like Weinstein.  Most times I was successful in the fight, a few times I was not – but the entertainment industry is vicious, misogynistic and crude.  I’m not sure if the hyper-awareness I inherited from a childhood of full incest helped me wiggle out of some of these situations, or if my background somehow made me an easier target.  But I do know we have started a conversation that MUST continue. This is not something that should be old news by Monday. This is so much bigger than one man.

I know Ashley Judd. I know Rose McGowan.  And while their stories are not mine, they are more than just celebrities I have read about in the New Yorker.  They are real people. And our culture has real problems.  Every woman in my life has a ‘Weinstein’ story. 1 out of every 3 women in the US not only has a harassment story, but are compounding that experience with a history of child sexual abuse, rape or sexual assault. And believe it or not, we are all going about our lives: meeting deadlines, feeding children, taking meetings, buying groceries, paying bills, running companies, saving lives, etc.  But do not be mistaken by our high functioning – we are bruised to the bone, weary and coping with something you cannot understand if you haven’t experienced it.

So don’t be surprised if I am short with you. Distracted. Or overly-emotional.  Don’t be shocked that I continue to post about my experiences on Facebook or you see me being less than holy, bitter or rageful. Please don’t judge that something ‘seemingly inconsequential’ has made me tear up. It’s likely not about you.  And it will likely pass soon. But right now ‘my stuff is up’ and I refuse to force it down 9-5, Monday – Friday and anytime I’m in public because society suggests that I should.  I am a survivor of incest and rape and I may need you to know that in order to really co-exist with me.  I don’t care if that makes you uncomfortable. I’ve been uncomfortable long enough.