Dealing With Triggers

Today I am grateful for the ability to think rationally. My Sunday calendar was intentionally blank. The days when I have nothing to do are my most valuable. The freedom to find a fun adventure, like driving out the coast or Hood River, to be at home with my Avengers movies, or simply just be. This morning, with the smoke still moderate from nearby fires, I followed my intuition to head into the forest.

The tall tree trunks and heavy branches provided a cover of protection from the polluted air. It was enough for Mabel and I to breathe freely while exercising outside. My pace today was a power walk, while still taking the time to gaze up at the sun peaking through the leaves and highlighting the browning edges of leaves turning into fall.

With more subtle triggers popping up, I am becoming more and more aware of how my symptoms from PTSD have shifted since I stopped drinking. The improvements were so monumental at first, I almost believed I had healed completely. My nightmares reduced from several times a week to a few times a month. And when they did happen, my reaction time was reduced from hours to minutes with the development of many tools, like my stuffed unicorn, Nay (they/them, pictured below), a bedside journal where I jot down the time and a quick poem about the dream, a tracking app to identify trends correlated with nightmares, etc. I was irritated and angsty from a family related trigger on Friday. Saturday being around my four year old niece elevated the trigger. But, a nice long walk in the woods helps my body and my mind relax.

Nay the unicorn with Mabel's duck toy.

Unfortunately, within the first few minutes of my walk, I heard screaming. A high pitched, seconds long scream and then a man yelling “OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!”

My initial panic stopped me in my tracks. Mabel and I were staring into the direction of the sound on high alert deciding the next move. I wondered if I needed to call out or follow the direction of the scream. Am I the white girl alone in a forest from a horror movie going in the direction of the strange sound?? Apparently I am, because my initial thought was a woman was being attacked. My second thought was someone was hurt and needed emergency first aid. I see and hear the world through the lens of my own experience. But, with a deep breath and some clarity, I remembered the family with three kids who entered the trail not too long before me. As they passed me one of the dads was reacting to their 6ish year old telling him they had cheese on their pizza, it was some kind of accomplishment. I kept walking, but became increasingly frustrated.

Don’t they know to respect the sanctity of a hike? Don’t they know some people come to the forest to find peace and serenity? As if peace and serenity could come from an outside source, amiright?

I thought about what I would say if I walked past them, considering “your screaming really scared me.” Then I realized it was my unique perspective and, in particular, PTSD which heightened my response to this experience. Another person may have heard it and brushed it off. Or, even experienced some mild annoyance from the disruption of the quietness on the hiking trail and moved on. But not panic, startled, being on guard for danger, thinking the worst. It is an internal battle trying to decide if I should educate people on PTSD or adapt my disability to meet the reality of the world around me. As a goal, honestly I’d like to be more vocal, but in the moment it can be really hard to deactivate my fight/flight/freeze/fawn response.

As I continued walking I heard other people making sounds more conducive to the environment - footsteps and chattering, the sound of hoofbeats. Side note: Mabel has always wondered about these strange, massive creatures. She has grown from growling at her first horse sighting, to being a bit more distant and curious as time has passed. Today, though, we sat on the side of the trail for two horses and their riders to pass us, Mabel sitting between my legs to feel protected. One of the horses stopped, bent down and said hi! Their noses touched and it was the cutest, coolest thing. It was odd and unexpected, but I’m glad Mabel could get some exposure to a nice horse.

I considered my own sounds - the quick paced stomping of my feet always in a hurry to get things done, the jingle of my keys wrapped around my wrist, and the kissy sounds I use to call Mabel back in range if she’s off leash. Sometimes I even call out “Mabel” or “come back!” We’re all just living our life.

Those kids don’t understand how their screaming affected me, a solo female traveler heightened by PTSD. Most likely their screams were ones of play or joy - perhaps jumping out from behind a bush to surprise their dad. It’s always helpful to consider alternative possibilities. When I was drinking and using, the immediate startle would have lasted much longer, maybe even the rest of the day, because I wouldn’t be able to de-escalate. My brain would have stuck with the first possibility and taken me to the familiar neural pathway about being attacked. This is when it felt like I was reliving or reexperiencing my own trauma. Most likely, I would have gone home and not even finished my hike, feeling too vulnerable and exposed.

So maybe I’m not where I want to be, but I’m sure as hell not where I used to be.

How is your healing and recovery progressing? When's the last time you did a check in? Body scan? (this is a deep healing meditation I'm using on the awesome Insight Timer app) What is your brain and body trying to tell you?