People think that if something happens and it doesn’t bother you immediately, or enough time has elapsed, then it must not be something that bothers you anymore. Or you should be/ get over it. But that’s not how trauma works. That’s not how grief works. That’s not how pain and guilt work. Trauma is time travel. Grief is time travel. Pain and guilt are time travel. Emotions are time travel.
Me, in conversation with Candace L. Hall, 03/04/2020
You may not believe this, but I struggle a lot with my emotions. They’re so big and unwieldy that when I was 13, I promised myself I would only cry in “appropriate” settings, like funerals and weddings. I felt swallowed by the hot, frustrated, exhausted saline slipping down my face and into my cupid’s bow that day. I will never forget that moment, that day. “You can’t just let her keep talking to you like that!” “You want me to beat her up?” I wanted to be left alone because I never bothered her in the first place. I never wanted to be bothered. At the time, I couldn’t properly name the wellspring of emotion about to erupt out of me. It seemed as if I might tear a hole in time and space if I said anything in response, so I rattled around inside myself. Think of a pinball that never stops ricocheting and flying about. I couldn’t cry anymore. I knew that responding would end in a fist fight (I couldn’t fight then) and the reminder that I was supposed to be above petty taunts and pubescent cruelty. Even when it was a lie. Even when the harm was unrelenting. I was “being sensitive,” you know …
The not-quite-properly-named thing, the flood, was a trigger. [Writer’s note: trigger isn’t made up “SJW” jargon. Clinically speaking, “trigger” can refer to a trauma trigger. It’s often associated with PTSD and can manifest at any time, as the external stimulus may not be specific to the trauma memory itself. Feel free to read more here, or consult a mental health professional/ resource guide for more context and information.] I won’t go into details, as that information isn’t necessary to make the point I’m illustrating. I will say, simply and directly, that it’s taken me twenty-five years to identify the depths and origins of my stuff. Every time I venture into the cave of my selves, there’s more of myself to witness. Me at age 5 running out to protect my 25 year old feelings from a careless paramour, my embarrassed 11 year old self showing her face and groaning with discomfort every time I menstruated. The flood has carried me through past, present, and future all at once. The flood is the bursting of the dam I have built since age 13, the wall to keep my vulnerabilities at a minimum. My emotions connect to people, places, and things.
When I accept that my feelings take me places, I am able to engage my own healing processes. What would my future self say about the heartbreak of summer 2017? How does my elder self counsel the feelings I still have about teenage rejection?
There is wisdom in my time travel, wisdom in knowing myself in this way.
Where do your emotions take you? Who do you meet along the way?