“F*CKKKKKKK!!!!!”
I screamed out loud in my car, parked outside the Department of Transportation here in Chiang Mai. Thankfully, no one was in the car or walking near the car; else they would be scared, running away from the psycho inside.
My forehead and palms were sweaty. My cheeks ruddy. My eyes dilated. I was angry. On a scale of 1-10, an 8.
Why? I received a phone call earlier that morning from Hyundai telling me that I needed to visit the DOT to process paperwork and obtain my license plate. This was after weeks of hearing nothing, and the service rep said it had to happen today because the residence certificate I provided would expire tomorrow. So I rushed to the DOT. I waited over an hour in the Thai heat – only for the official to tell me I need to get another residence certificate; she could not accept one that would expire tomorrow. Why not? This would mean waiting in another line, paying another 500 baht, and repeating another bureaucratic process.
Why the overwhelming anger? Why would a delay in the process elicit the “Hulk” inside me to emerge, making him scream and bang the steering wheel?
I was triggered. Hearing the official tell me I would need to repeat the process reminded me of something in my past – some unresolved issue from long ago.
Learning how to healthily cope when I am triggered – rather than unhealthily unleash the Hulk – has been one of the key things I have worked on during my mini-retirement. This post outlines what my triggers are and the steps I have taken to develop healthier responses.
What are triggers?
Cliques aside, I like how Wikipedia defines the word ‘trigger.’ “A trauma trigger is a psychological stimulus that prompts involuntary recall of a previous traumatic experience.” Ok, there’s a couple of five-dollar words there. If I were to try to translate in simpler terms, a trigger would be something that happens outside of me that brings up an emotion inside of me – and often times a reaction from me. This process – trigger, emotion, reaction – happens pretty quickly – like a knee jerk reaction when the doctor hits you with that rubber tool. The tool is the trigger. The sensation you feel is the emotion. Your knee kicking up is the reaction.
But important in this definition is the word “involuntary.” I could easily use the word “unconscious” instead. This process of trigger, emotion and reaction happens quickly because it’s been rehearsed so much that I do it unconsciously. My leg will automatically kick up without me even thinking about it.
Let’s use the example of me screaming the explicative in my car. Yes, it happened very quickly. The officials’ rejection was the trigger. The anger I felt was the emotion. The screaming was the reaction. All emotionally charged and done unconsciously.
What childhood memories come up for me that are similar to this DOT incident? I recall many times as a toddler when my Dad would make my older brother and me write out Chinese characters, stroke by stroke, in a rigid sequential order. If I didn’t write the character correctly, he would hit me and say “do it again.” If I made a stroke in the wrong order, he could hit me and say “do it again.” This would repeat until either I wrote all the characters correctly or I would cry and cry and cry, unable to continue; at this point, he would be angry, get up from his chair, and walk away.
At some point, I began to rehearse this trauma at school. I might be triggered by a bad grade or when a teacher says that I would need to take a makeup test. I would grow quiet, bury the sadness inside, and then internalize the anger my Dad felt. The frustration, the irritation, the anger of having to re-do something until I get it right – emotions that I would feel from being triggered at school. My Dad no longer needed to threaten me or hit me to feel these emotions. I was conditioned to feel these emotions automatically when I made mistakes at school.
Now as an adult, as I’m increasingly aware of my triggers – I can put in the work to heal. And by healing, I mean: pausing when I am triggered, regulating my emotion when I feel it, and choosing to react in healthier ways. There’s nothing wrong with screaming in the car (for many, screaming is a healthy outlet to regulate anger); but I could have also called a friend and vented my emotions; I could have listened to some “angry” music like Linkin Park and sang along with the band; or I could have driven to the gym and do some presses, squats, and burpees to release all of that anger.
In this way, triggers are gifts. They are invitations for us to learn more for ourselves. If I can recognize these triggers when they happen, and take the time to study the patterns that occur within me when I am triggered, then I can grow. I can expand. I can level up.
Let me share three of my triggers – and walk you through the lessons I have learned from each.
My Triggers
1. Criticism
Criticism often can be death by a thousand cuts. Any one exchange of criticism – from a stranger or from a family member or close friend – can hurt. And when this builds up, all this little trauma (lower case “t”) accumulates to big Trauma (capital “T”).
Just this past week, I believe a friend unfairly criticized me. He and I were indoor climbing and he asked me to take a video of him while he climbed. After spending a few minutes recording his successful climb, he checked the video I made, and then criticized me for not moving around enough in taking different angles of him climbing. He asked me again to record him, which I begrudgingly did, this time doing what he asked. But afterwards, instead of thanking me, he continued to criticize me by saying he believes I didn’t take many angles because I’m shy and afraid of what others may think. Rather than argue or defend myself, I said I would rather not take videos of him anymore – and left it at that.
When criticisms are flung across the wall and over to me, I absorb and internalize them. The voice of my parents come up: “you are not doing it right”, “you need to do it this way”, “are you stupid?” I am made to feel ‘less than’, eliciting feelings of anger, guilt, and shame. My natural tendency is to avoid conflict, flight rather than fight, and then distance myself from the perceived source of the pain – the criticizer. A healthier, more adult response would be to communicate my feelings (“I feel hurt when you said I’m not taking the right angles”) and express my desire (“It would help me if you could just say thank you; otherwise I do not feel comfortable taking any more videos of you”).
The lesson from criticism: Express my feelings and desire, rather than avoid conflict
2. Rejection
Putting myself out there is hard. I fear rejection. It hurts to be told “no” – bringing up childhood memories for me – of my parents saying something is too expensive or that they are too tired. Then I learn not to put myself out there, not to even attempt, for fear of being rejected.
A recent example of this rejection is when I invited a friend, who I haven’t seen in a long time, to get together while he is visiting Bangkok. I would get the polite “Sure” followed by days of radio silence. Then I would ask again, and be met with “Sorry I have been busy. Maybe next time.” It’s easy for me to read too much into this rejection: he’s not that good of a friend; I’m not that important to him; whatever, I’ll find another person to hang out with. And these beliefs can easily spiral out of control, relating back to old wounds and feelings of shame and unimportance.
I learned two ways to (more) healthily cope with rejection. First, I write out all the negative beliefs in my head. Yes, get it all down on paper – whether by writing or typing – so that I can actually give these beliefs shape and form. It’s only then, when these negative thoughts are on paper, that I can actually see these words for what they are – bulls#it lies.
The second step: find the truth. The truth is often equal parts observations (not intuition) and affirmations from others (not rejection). For example, the truth behind my friend being radio silent with getting together in Bangkok is simply: he is busy. It’s not that he’s not a good friend or that I’m not important to him; the truth is that he has been a great friend to me, and that I am also a great friend to him.
Wow, I feel catharsis from just writing these down! This catharsis reminds me just how powerful these tools are.
The lesson from rejection: Drop our negative beliefs and affirm the truth – that we are worth it
3. Guilt
I see Guilt sitting on the other side of the table of Criticism and Rejection; Guilt comes up when I criticize and reject others. Because I don’t like how others criticize or reject me, I feel guilty when I criticize or reject others.
There are little forms of guilt that happen every week. For me, if I am running late or have to cancel an appointment, then I feel guilt. Just yesterday, I was running late to a haircut appointment and profusely apologized over text message (to the salon) that I would be 30 minutes late. And the week prior, I ran over one hour late to a dinner reservation because of Bangkok traffic and a wrong drop off that my Grab driver made. I feel this guilt because I know how it felt when my customers (from my prior life) were 30 minutes late to meetings; and it hurt when friends would show up one hour late to a dinner reservation with me.
A friend recently told me that there is no benefit to guilt. I don’t necessarily agree. I believe I receive a gift from guilt. It reminds me that I am human, that I am not perfect. Yes, being on time means alot to me. It is one of my core values. But I cannot expect myself to be on-time 100% of the time. I can be on-time most of the time – and that is enough for me.
I have learned to forgive myself. I have learned to make amends to myself for the little things – because that’s what they are – little. This is a practice of dropping the perfectionism I held onto for so many years, and a practice of self acceptance and self love.
The lesson from guilt: Forgive myself; accept myself as imperfect and loving myself anyways
SUMMARY
I hope this post illustrates how I have been working on my reactions to triggers. I believe it is one of the most valuable things I have learned about myself – and ways in which I can be a healthier version of myself.
~Lester T