Maneuvering The Triggers

Disclaimer: Trigger warnings, mentions of suicide & self harm.

Child B has always been a trigger for me. The way she acts. The actions she chooses. The people she surrounds herself with. It takes all of my strength to not yell it won’t end well, why can’t you understand that? every time she follows in my footsteps.

Child A is who I always wished I could have been. Determined to be in her own footsteps. Unphased by what others are obsessed by. I remember we were talking the week before she started high school. She told me that she didn’t want to be in makeup or dress a certain way just because society wanted her to. She would do it on her own terms. I was astounded by her personality. Today, her façade is slowly melting away. I am still astounded by her but in a different way.

She came home from a hang out, extremely giggly and telling me that she wanted to tell me a secret. She whispered that she had smoked weed and something called an Elf Bar. Being an avid vaper, as I transitioned from being a smoker, I knew what she was indicating. At that moment, I was so bewildered by the information that all I knew to ask was what form she had ingested. Whether she had vaped the weed or she had eaten it as an edible. Looking back at my Stress App (it utilizes heart rate variability to determine your current state), I was in a Pay Attention status. I was in a state of panic.

I should have known as my hands were shaking and I was pacing. I defaulted to my own reliable source of immediate calming - wine. Then I shook my head like an etch a sketch and told myself to focus. What was the right thing to do?

I Seek Confirmation On The Next Step

I texted my most trusted friend who deals with children as a form of work. I told her the situation and asked her: “Should I tell her dad?”. The words: secret kept revolving in my mind. I was worried I would break her trust but I also understood that this was not something that I could keep from my partner. However, my logic was impaired at that time due to anxiety and I needed confirmation. She is my safe zone where I could go to neutralize any thoughts I had.

I Imagined What I Would Have Needed

With a bit of liquid courage, I walked to the garage where he was. For a brief moment, when he was explaining something to me about his work, I had faltered in my determination to tell him what had happened. I had thought: He is at peace right now. Don’t disrupt his peace. But again, I shook my head like an etch a sketch. I mentally imagine that at times. It helps with the visualization to truly think that I am erasing a thought. I started off asking him to not blow up on me as he has a history of being explosive. I explained the situation to him and that I asked for him to let me guide her to the appropriate steps. Which was to let her make the choice of coming to him by herself. We then got into a debate on punishment. He told me: There should be a severe punishment for the severity of her actions. I asked him: What makes you believe that the severity of a punishment would cancel out the severity of an action? How does a severe punishment help someone realize the mistake they had made? It was as if we were speaking a foreign language to each other. I pleaded with him to understand that this wouldn’t be a time to prioritize punishment but a time to understand and help her heal. At some point in our argument, I did have a fleeting sense of being an imposter. I felt like I was an imposter that tried to plead peace all the time but maybe that really isn’t what is needed. As I am typing this, I still am a tad confused on where I stood. A crime wouldn’t be without punishment, then an action shouldn’t be without consequence. However, shouldn’t we evaluate what is the root cause of the action before we define the consequence?

I told him that at that time I didn’t know if it was peer pressure or if it was because she is feeling unwell. I could only imagine that a child venturing into substances would either be trying to A.) bury some sort of feelings or B.) curiosity. I placed myself in her shoes to determine those two possible outcomes because in the end, I’m not looking to determine it for the whole world. I just need to know how I feel about her. And I know she has a history of not feeling mentally well and for that reason, I will always advocate for her.

If my parents had even taken a second to sit down with me and try and understand where all my behavior comes from - maybe I would be writing a different reality. Instead I was told that I was lazy, stupid, just like my biological father, a burden, a whore, and many more. They were always quick with punishments but never reaching a point of understanding. The difficulty was that at that time, I didn’t understand why I was behaving that way either. So I took the labels. Even at 30 years of age, I don’t believe the reasonings I am provided in therapy on why I behaved a certain way. Because the label has been so absorbed, so ingrained, that I truly believed in that over any other possibilities.

Maneuvering The Trigger

I gave her approximately 1.5 hours to sober up before I had a conversation with her. I expected more resistance but she was ready to take accountability. Her courage is what astounds me at this time. I told her that she has to tell her father herself and she had agreed. When the conversation was still surface level: Why did you do it? I don’t know, I’m not feeling too well. I stepped in to guide the conversation. It was then uncovered that she had been suicidal since elementary. That she feels inferior to everyone else and there was no point. When she was talking, I flashed back to only two weeks ago when I was in the kitchen floor making cuts on my wrist.

I told myself to focus. We are here to help her and not to spiral. If I was to spiral, I would still honor those feelings. However, tonight, we honor her feelings. We honor her thoughts and her share. And with that, my tunnel vision dissipated. Although I was able to gather enough strength to get through the conversation and provide her with a resolution (immediate attention to get her therapy), I’m currently still dealing with the aftermath.

Even though, I am fighting for her to stay alive - I believed in her words. If you aren’t good at anything, then what is the purpose? Why be here? So I try and pull back to some of the learnings I’ve had this week. From a course I am taking, I was asked to locate the core reason. What causes this feeling? For me, feelings of being rejected and abandoned had resonated. Then I recall my mantra, My mind is a little wonky right now but it’s okay. I’m safe. Everything is okay.

I know it’ll be a whole night of arguing in my head. The safest bet is always to get myself to sleep. I do have a prescription for a sleep medication from my psychiatrist. I also make a small goal with myself. Make it to tomorrow morning and everything will reset.