Now I know what a trigger is. For me: an ambulance with sirens and lights flashing stopped 4-way traffic so it could make it through the intersection. And I wondered: who was inside? Whose life was hanging in the balance; who may be clinging to life; what mother (father) would be given a jolt to their nervous system with the news?
Was it a 21 year old sucked into the clutch of addiction, and this time an overdose rendered him unconscious for 32 hours? The kid who has so much potential, whose classmates now send us graduation pictures highlighting their achievements: Summa cum laude, Phi Beta Kappa, I'm so beautiful I could be a model?
But my child, whose psychic pain was so great, derailed his version of this. The pain made him vulnerable to the allure of substance abuse. THE SWEET NUMB. The numb that slows the normal response to life's rhythmic demands. A sober response to life now becomes polluted, and a personality becomes warped, like a melted record on a turn table, the needle bouncing in a wave, distorting the original sound.
The mother (father), the witness, aches at the sight and sound. The mother who sees the ambulance in emergent mode, stopping traffic 4 ways in the intersection is the mother triggered by her own family's past.
But this is not the final despair. This is the presentation of a challenge, like a stick in my wheel and I've fallen over the handlebars. To find joy and happiness as I lie on the proverbially pavement, the bike strewn to the side.
To start: I am not ashamed!
No, I stand up from that pity party, brush the gravel embedded in my knees and grow strong because I realize it's just not about comparing my son to another wearing a cap and gown with the summa cum laude sash. My family portrait is a different picture, one completely unexpected. I now face the reality that IS. I choose not to hide or regret the past. And as for the present moment, I wipe away my triggered tears. I have felt my feelings, and I breathe in this moment, with all it's realness, with gratitude.
-- Edited by Jan2018 on Friday 22nd of June 2018 02:34:11 PM
hotrod said
Jun 22, 2018
I am a parent who have experienced the real pain of a parent who witnessed an ambulance rushing to aid a child downed by alcohol and seeing the unsuccessful attempt, The pain is indeed devastating
Gracelane said
Jun 22, 2018
Boy did this post hit home. So beautifully written. For me it is the stretcher without a person in it because my son was already gone when they got there.
Jan2018 said
Jun 22, 2018
Dear Gracelane, I am so incredibly sorry for your loss. I hope you all have found some degree of peace even in some of the toughest times. I had heard of triggers-- thought it was a little melodramatic, untill I was triggered-- out of the blue weeping at the sight of the ambulance. I just feel my feelings and be with it, and if possible be grateful for the present, whatever it is.
Now I know what a trigger is. For me: an ambulance with sirens and lights flashing stopped 4-way traffic so it could make it through the intersection. And I wondered: who was inside? Whose life was hanging in the balance; who may be clinging to life; what mother (father) would be given a jolt to their nervous system with the news?
Was it a 21 year old sucked into the clutch of addiction, and this time an overdose rendered him unconscious for 32 hours? The kid who has so much potential, whose classmates now send us graduation pictures highlighting their achievements: Summa cum laude, Phi Beta Kappa, I'm so beautiful I could be a model?
But my child, whose psychic pain was so great, derailed his version of this. The pain made him vulnerable to the allure of substance abuse. THE SWEET NUMB. The numb that slows the normal response to life's rhythmic demands. A sober response to life now becomes polluted, and a personality becomes warped, like a melted record on a turn table, the needle bouncing in a wave, distorting the original sound.
The mother (father), the witness, aches at the sight and sound. The mother who sees the ambulance in emergent mode, stopping traffic 4 ways in the intersection is the mother triggered by her own family's past.
But this is not the final despair. This is the presentation of a challenge, like a stick in my wheel and I've fallen over the handlebars. To find joy and happiness as I lie on the proverbially pavement, the bike strewn to the side.
To start: I am not ashamed!
No, I stand up from that pity party, brush the gravel embedded in my knees and grow strong because I realize it's just not about comparing my son to another wearing a cap and gown with the summa cum laude sash. My family portrait is a different picture, one completely unexpected. I now face the reality that IS. I choose not to hide or regret the past. And as for the present moment, I wipe away my triggered tears. I have felt my feelings, and I breathe in this moment, with all it's realness, with gratitude.
-- Edited by Jan2018 on Friday 22nd of June 2018 02:34:11 PM
I am a parent who have experienced the real pain of a parent who witnessed an ambulance rushing to aid a child downed by alcohol and seeing the unsuccessful attempt, The pain is indeed devastating
Boy did this post hit home. So beautifully written. For me it is the stretcher without a person in it because my son was already gone when they got there.
Dear Gracelane, I am so incredibly sorry for your loss. I hope you all have found some degree of peace even in some of the toughest times. I had heard of triggers-- thought it was a little melodramatic, untill I was triggered-- out of the blue weeping at the sight of the ambulance. I just feel my feelings and be with it, and if possible be grateful for the present, whatever it is.