Choosing to Own My Story While in a PTSD Trigger (You Can Too!)

This morning was a minefield. I've shared that I grew up in a violent situation. Through therapy, meditation, dietary precautions, writing and medication I have been successfully managing PTSD, anxiety and depression for several months now. However, the work I do does not prevent me from experiencing trigger.

While dressing and feeding my youngest, she had an unusually belligerent tantrum. She is only 5, in the throes of self-definition as an autonomous being but acutely aware of the rules and how much she needs Mommy and Daddy. She wanted a lollipop to take to school. That is against school rules. She knows this, but she hates the rule so she fought and fought and fought, her frustration turning into fists and shoves on my body.

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My daughter is an adorable, fierce little woman. I am proud of her strength. But for whatever reason, my mind wasn't able to recall that her actions were not a threat to me. Instead, I felt myself go numb, tingling overcame my brain and I had to make a dash for my anxiety medication to stay on top of the trigger.

You either know what this is like or you don't. Anxiety hijacks your body. You become lost in it, in memories, in stories spun out of fear. Your muscles might seize, your body might shake. In my case, my daughter is well off to school with her dad but I am still fighting to stay awake. My fight or flight kicks in by putting me to sleep in highly stressful situations. It is a learned behavior stemming from abuse that ebbed when I was quiet, silent, invisible.

It is unfortunate. I want to stay present for my children. Right now I'm hanging on my the skin of my teeth to write through this. I need to reframe my response to my daughter's tantrum so my brain takes away a positive instead of staying in this trigger. The first bit of reframing is easy:

My daughter is not my abuser.

She is a five year old firecracker who is whip smart and sugar-addled. This behavior is the direct result of a sugar binge earlier this week. It is expected. It is why we do not keep sugary treats in the house. It will pass.

But there is more to reframe because my whole body is engaged in a fight right now. It wants to sleep to turn off the world.

I do not need to sleep. I am safe where I am right now.

I do not need to be quiet.

I do not need to hide. There is no threat against me.

These truths are admittedly harder to accept. In writing them out, I am feeling better in my core. My eyes are still drooping so I know there is more to do.

I am strong.

I am powerful.

I know this because I did not strike back at my child. I remembered that she is a child. I did not slide into a visual flashback of abuse even if I'm wrapped in a somatic (physical) flashback. This is a success. I straddled the mental planes and did stay present and keep my child safe even while her behavior felt unsafe to me.

Parenting after abuse is tricky. Your baseline set of responses is often determined by the nurture aspect of your upbringing. Mine was physically and emotionally violent. Here is my ultimate takeaway:

I am not passing on the pain I received. I choose not to parent from fear.

I am deeply grateful my partner was here during this episode. But if he hadn't been, I know I still would have been okay. My kids would have been late for school, but they would have arrived safely after I took a break in my closet to reset.

I know how to take care of myself.

I ask for help when I need it.

My body is still trying to force me into sleep. This is okay. I have some time to rest prior to my class at the gym. This is part of taking care of me.