When you hear the word "trigger," do you think of this beautiful palomino who was originally named Golden Cloud? I do - much of the time.
Trigger the horse, star of movies and TV, was probably before your time (and mine), but had a brilliant career. He even had his own comic book, and was said to have 150 trick cues.
I know that ragweed or pollen can trigger an asthma attack. That a cellphone can be used to trigger a bomb. Odors, for me, can trigger childhood memories (musty raincoat or Lemon Pledge), help me feel happy and relaxed (vanilla or lavender,) even turn me on (sexy man-scent).
Right now, I see more than ever that words, or certain subject material can trigger an emotional reaction.
This is nothing new. The "n" word, "bastard," the "c" word, "Your Mama!" and other terms have long been used as "fightin' words," precisely because they trigger an emotional response.
What's new is some of the subject matter that is considered triggering. Discussions of food, diet, and photographs of too-thin women can be triggering for those with eating disorders. Talk of funerals or illness may be triggering to someone who's just lost a loved one - or someone who's lost a loved one, ever. A trailer for a romantic comedy may trigger tears in somebody who just split with their boyfriend or girlfriend.
In a way, I find this all very irritating, and in another way, very healthy. Rather than either ignoring triggering events (while seething or hurting inside), or challenging someone to a fight, we are admitting we are hurt. Perhaps we're speaking up politely but firmly, "Could we not talk about diets, please?" Or, "I don't like it when you use that word, I find it offensive."
On the other hand, I feel like if I'm an "evolved person," there is some kind of expectation to speak in political and emotional correctese. To not say anything, ever, that might possibly offend anybody.
Not gonna happen - at least from me. I expect to keep pissing people off - not deliberately or maliciously, but either by accident or in some cases, because I believe an idea is worth discussing, even fighting for. Even if the discussion may make some a little uncomfortable.
On another site, I used the "n" word, once, in a discussion of whether or not words like slut or (that word) can be reclaimed. Most readers found it to be a good, thought-provoking discussion, and my own conclusion was that the word should not be used by anybody. One person was triggered, although she herself also said the discussion was reflective and thoughtful. On another site, there was discussion about the word "manipulation," which is under consideration by the DSM-5 committee as part of the diagnostic criterion for OCPD.
You might have thought the word was pederasty, instead, and a vigorous debate ensued.
Even though it's uncomfortable, I think we all have to try walking that fine line. Not deliberately seeking to trigger people at their weakest points, but at the same time, continue to be willing to think about and talk about subjects and words that might not feel 100% comfortable, because otherwise we'll never be able to heal those places.
And on that note... have a wonderful weekend. Hope all your triggers are happy ones.
What are your trigger words or situations (if you feel safe enough to share)?
So, I was anticipating a rough VD, since it was my first since breaking up with OCPD bf. And it was rough, in spots, but I tried to be pro-active and not let myself sink into too much unhealthy reminiscing and nostalgia.
Reality is, Valentines' Day with him was no great shakes. I think once he cut roses from the garden and put them in a vase on the table for me. He never, ever, sent flowers to me at work, and many years didn't even bother with a card. More than a wee bit Demand-Resistant to the whole idea of making a fuss over his loved one for a "Hallmark Holiday."
So... I bought my own rose for my desk at work, and am still enjoying it. (Though I did move it away from that corner where I could too easily knock it onto the floor. In case that worried you.)
And I decided to get Carried Away a bit for the G-F, with all kinds of good-smelling stuff I wasn't "allowed" to use due to ex b-f's complaints about cologne and scented lotion. And duckies. The pink one even lights up! (For those of you thinking I'm both bi and moving waaaaay too fast - I found that while I feel somewhat uncomfortable treating myself well, I can manage it if I treat myself in the third person, like my own girlfriend.)
So, some new stinkum from Bath & Body works, plus I cashed in a gift card and showered g-f in Luscious Kisses from Victoria's Secret.
Over the weekend I knocked out a few chores that had been hanging over my head, which made me feel happy and relieved. And which gave me permission to enjoy myself, though I'm trying to get past the silly notion that pleasure should be earned.
Worked on eating mindfully. I fixed girlfriend some of our favorite meals, but tried to focus on appropriate sized portions, and stopping when/before being full, trying to tune into learning how to listen to the body, instead of just eating, eating, eating, because food is sitting there. And trying to include lots of salad, green veggies, and healthy choices.
Also bought Valentines' chocolate for her, all her favorites, though a small box. We haven't inhaled them all yet, but are eating them 1-2 per night, totally savoring and enjoying each and every bite.
This mindful eating business is hard work, and I'm such a beginner, but I trust it's the right way to go in the long term.
Spent a fair amount of time with my favorite dysfunctional couple, Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII. Their story is one I've been magnetically drawn to for most of my life. Talk about an object lesson in 1) Passionate love doesn't always last forever, and 2) It's not usually healthy for a woman to lose her head over a man.
Theories abound on What Went Wrong. Did either Anne or Henry have a Personality Disorder? Because things went downhill pretty fast once the "chase" was over and they were officially married. Much like what happens when a "non" moves in with a person with a PD. Or were one or both of them simply drunk with power?
Certainly Anne exhibited some wild mood swings. She was also pregnant and miscarrying during much of that time, and that in itself could account for her being so "highly strung." Plus just a smidge of pressure from being surrounded all the time by people who hated her guts, and constant demands from those who wanted to use her to further their own interests. We think about Diana, Princess of Wales, and how she was constantly hounded by paparazzi, but old-time royalty had people around them all the time. Even the privies weren't private.
One interesting novel, Threads by Nell Gavin, takes on the story as woven into a theory of reincarnation. The idea is that people choose to be reborn into different families to work out unresolved karmic issues, and that Henry, Anne and Katherine had been married, siblings, parents and children in previous lifetimes. I especially liked the section where Anne was an Egyptian whore, Katherine her young daughter, and Henry a transvestite man-whore who befriended them because he longed for children of his own.
This would explain a lot about 15th and 16th century men's fashion.
Watched some flicks - Carrie Fisher's entertaining Wishful Drinking, and Disney's Tinkerbell which I'd been wanting to see forever, because my favorite artist Loreena McKennitt had done most of the music and the narration. As the intro ballad wafted me into the story, that's when I did my VD weeping - not sure if it was because I felt so moved by Loreena's gorgeous voice, or a little bit of sadness over ex b-f.
Although ex b-f also really enjoys her music, and always claimed a love of animation, he was never willing to watch this movie with me, because... because. Who knows why?
Every time I go down that rabbit hole of trying to make sense of the nonsensical, I simply get more lost. When someone has a mental disorder, things don't make logical sense. Yet those of us who love them may keep churning past actions or conversations in our minds, thinking we'll hit on some magical insight and we'll really "get" why they think and act the way they do.
I will never be able to understand his distorted thinking, and that's okay. I don't have to. I just need to figure out the way I think, and make healthy choices for me.
What healthy choices have you been making for you?
This Valentines' weekend, though I know I should not should not should NOT contact my ex b-f right now, when I'm feeling vulnerable, and yes, struggling a bit with being alone in a world seemingly full of lovers, I am pondering how I ever got so mixed up about A Crazy Little Thing Called Love. I've come to the conclusion that I can blame much of it on all the crazy little songs about love.
Listen to popular music. I mean, really listen. To the lyrics we often sing along to, without paying attention, but which sink deep down into our subconscious, and confuse the issue when we try to actually have a relationship.
A lot of them aren't about love at all, of course, but about sex. Robert Palmer's Addicted to Love?
Your heart sweats, your body shakes
Another kiss is what it takes
You can't sleep, you can't eat
There's no doubt, you're in deep
Your throat is tight, you can't breathe
Another kiss is all you need
Songs tell us (Love is Like A) Heatwave, or brings Fever (when you kiss me, fever when you hold me tight...) Don't these all make it sound like another side effect of "love" calls for a major dose of penicillin and a formal notice from the Center for Disease Control to all one's previous partners?
This one was a favorite... and then I paid better attention to the lyrics.
Now that we've grown up it seems
You just keep ignoring me.
I'll find you anywhere you go,
I'll follow you high and low.
You can't escape this love of mine anytime.
Well, I'll sneak up behind you,
Be careful where I find you.
Apple peaches pumpkin pie,
Soon your love will be all mine.
Then I'm gonna take you home,
Marry you so you won't roam.
This sweet, bubbly little ditty is about finding one's childhood love, and whether she's now interested in a love relationship or not, stalking her until she gives in, and then trapping her via marriage. Ain't that just sooo cute! Not! Then there's the stalker's classic, The Police's Every Breath You Take which is really, really creepy if you sit down and listen to it.
Come on, What's Love Got To Do with that?
But there are plenty of songs about people in healthy relationships... aren't there?
I know you wanna leave me,
but I refuse to let you go
If I have to beg and plead for your sympathy,
I don't mind coz' you mean that much to me
Ain't too proud to beg, sweet darlin
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go
Ain't to proud to plead, baby, baby
Please don't leave me, girl, don't you go
Okay, we've got some serious self-esteem and boundary issues going on in the Temptations' Ain't Too Proud to Beg, but... yeeeah. How many, many songs and movies, teach us that if we simply hang in there, patiently dogging the object of our affections, s/he will eventually become exhausted fending us off, give in, and love us back?
From CakeWrecks - "for the Co-dependent"
"When your boyfriend starts crying, you'll know it's only because
he's so happy."
Modern stuff isn't that bad, right? Those were the Dark Ages, romantically speaking; since then men and women have learned to treat each other better! How about some Matchbox 20?
I wanna push you around, well I will, I will
I wanna push you down, well I will, I will
I wanna take you for granted, I wanna take you for granted
Well I will
Next!
For those who loved an OCPDr (aka, a control freak) Linkin Park's Numb pretty much tells the tale of how exhausting it feels to be pressured by someone you love to be "what you want me to be," to be constantly criticized for making mistakes:
I'm tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless lost under the surface
Don't know what you're expecting of me
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes
(Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)
Every step that I take is another mistake to you
(Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)
I've become so numb I can't feel you there
Become so tired so much more aware
I'm becoming this all I want to do
Is be more like me and be less like you
Can't you see that you're smothering me
Holding too tightly afraid to lose control
Cause everything that you thought I would be
Has fallen apart right in front of you
(Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)
Every step that I take is another mistake to you
(Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)
And every second I waste is more than I can take
Like some people use prayer to tell God what He should be doing (the Slacker!) there are many angry songs lecturing the other party on exactly how he or she totally screwed things up. Take the whining about the house being dark and pots being cold in Santana's Evil Ways, because the woman actually has friends and outside interests, instead of being chained to the stove, cooking dinner for her man. The nerve! (I love that song, actually, great guitar solo; I've simply rewritten the lyrics in my head so when I hear it I'm less tempted to strangle the nearest male with my suddenly superfluous bra strap.)
There are very few songs about a mature, healthy love relationship. I've never heard a song celebrating that messy front row seat, watching one's wife push a baby's ginormous head out of her vagina. Probably because the fathers are a) passed out cold; b) manfully suppressing the urge to hurl chunks, or c) thanking God on their knees they will never, ever have to do this themselves. In any event, the thought of whipping out a guitar and working out some chords right then - not happening.
The nitty gritty of everyday life and familiarity with one's partner, for the most part, gets left out of love songs. Female songwriters don't write about the way their hubby of umpteen years gets more proficient at the butt trumpet every day.
Although there is Brad Paisley's generous offer to check his girlfriend for Ticks. Now there's romance for ya!
Love songs are mostly yearning songs (because the not-yet-well-known object of one's affection is still pure, perfect, and embodies everything one could ever hope to find,) or "player" songs, or we've-broken-up-but-I-still-miss-you, even if I am out partying and hitting on other women, like Smokey Robinson's The Tracks of My Tears. Or bitter, don't-let-the-doorknob-hit-you-in-the-ass-on-your-way-out break-up songs (my current personal favorites) like Fleetwood Mac's Go Your Own Way, or Dokken's Just Walk Away
I'm not saying loving relationships aren't out there - and beautiful songs about them.
This is what love should be about, IMO. Perfect love casts out fear. Love makes you stronger, more confident. Makes you feel alive and aware of the environment around you, like the children playing outside (though I still think the children in masks theme was a bit weird.) Love makes you feel more connected, not just to your lover, but to yourself, to Heaven and the Divine, to joy. Whatever happened in her life after this, during this time Belinda radiated joy. I felt like I could almost scoop it off her in cupfuls.
This, of course, is the bait, the reason we all get lured in, the glorious way we feel upon falling in love. Just because in most cases, it dims a bit, or even vanishes altogether, doesn't mean it wasn't real and amazing while it lasted. (Sorry, I tried being cynical - at heart I'm a sappy romantic after all!)
I did fall in love with my exb-f, and I did feel like this, in the beginning. I'm truly sorry it didn't last, sorry that his OCPD, Mr. Hyde-ish behaviors emerged with such a vengeance that in the end, I felt more Numb. I'm not foolish enough to go back, in the vain hope that this time, the story will have a different ending.
But I don't regret having those feelings, not for a moment, and I look forward, someday, to feeling them again with somebody who does not have a mental disorder. And in the meantime... I'll just have to be good to my girlfriend.
Have you ever felt confused by the messages about dysfunctional love in pop music?
