Trauma and Triggers

I won’t write about the most traumatic things I’ve experienced. Some people I know have shared much worse than anything I’ve gone through – I commend them for their bravery. I’m not that strong.

So you won’t hear much on this blog about the details of my successful survivicides (yep – I’m making that word up, and using it in Scrabble, too!), or the triggers that they left embedded deep in my brain. (Besides, I might be a superhero one day, and an evil nemesis may read this blog and discover my weaknesses).

However, I do have a good example of a trigger that resulted in an embarrassing accident last night.

I’ve been working with a counselor to purge the image of a truck grill and headlights – that was what I saw in my rear view mirror just before my accident in May. It took me almost three months, but I was finally able to drive again (see my previous posts). I am still recovering physically.

Last night, I picked up a Zipcar (I don’t own a car – I book cars through a car share company). I was backing out of the lot, when I saw a fast moving grill and headlights coming towards me from the side.

I panicked. I knew no people where behind me (I had checked before I began backing out), so I hit the accelerator and reversed, hard, into a cement pole.

It turned out it was only a black Mercedes with a large grill and big headlights. It roared past, right in front of me. I put my head down on the wheel, ashamed.

Triggers are powerful things. Like the time I cried on my laptop (see my post “Trigger – Not Just a Famous Horse”), this one caught me by surprise.

I won’t be driving again until I get more therapy. I know I can beat it, because I beat the triggers from my survivicides.

But in the meantime, don’t get any bright ideas about dressing up in a big grill with headlights and jumping out in front of me.