Triggers

If I've learned anything in the last 3 years it's that I can't always predict my triggers (and that likewise, sometimes what I think will be a trigger doesn't have the impact I predicted).  The world around me is slowly going back to some semblance of normal.  Oh, and I've been seeing a really sweet guy for a little over a month now.  So I guess I just wasn't thinking about possible triggers, which may be a good thing - it might show that I'm continuing to grow.  

I felt the first knot in my stomach last Friday night when said sweet guy sent me a picture of  the stain in his driveway.  "You've got an oil leak."  Ugh.  No big deal to most people, but I felt the air rush out of my lungs.  Of course this happened hours after my last workday of the school year.  Of course it meant dealing with mechanics.  Of course.  Of course.  Of course.  

I have a history of car troubles, largely because I've typically driven older cars.  But my current car?  It's a 2018.  As the sweet guy keeps saying, it's too new to have problems.  

So I called the shop that I've used for the last several years.  After a bit of a mix-up (the girl working the phone needs to learn to say the words "I'm putting you on hold now") they said I could drop off my car and they'd look at it.  They couldn't predict how long it would take until they determined the problem, so I called the sweet guy and asked if he could pick me up from the shop.

He doesn't know my triggers.  Shoot howdy, I don't know them most of the time.  And so he didn't know that asking a bunch of questions about the car and the shop in a rapid fire succession would bring on tears.  Personally, I was surprised by the tears, too.  But eventually I was somewhat able to piece together and communicate to him that dealing with men about cars has always been difficult for me.  Women, you know what I mean - men tend to talk down to us when it comes to cars and car maintenance, regardless of how much we may know.  When I was married to John he was initially dumbfounded by it, then eventually understood that it was his job to deal with any and all car issues.  Once he was gone I always took my car to the shop that he used.  It was beside one of the stores he had worked at and the men there knew me as John's wife.  The week that he died my sister and I took my car in for some work and they asked how John was doing.  The tears flowed as I explained that he had died a few days before.  They told me that he had always taken care of them and they would take care of me.  And so I always take my car to them when it has a problem.

But guess what I forgot?  I forgot that the mere act of going to that shop tends to trigger tears.  Today was the first day I've been since I bought my car 2 years ago.  And so the combined factors of there being something wrong with my car, the sweet guy questioning how I was handling it (or at least, that was my perception at the time), and having to drive to a place I so strongly associate with John was just too much.  I was triggered.  I cried all the way there, then I got it together and went inside.  

Here's the thing about triggers - they typically catch you off guard.  I was triggered during our 5th grade celebration the other day when I realized that a student who died 2 years ago missed that milestone.  My close friend is retiring, and everyone keeps saying, "I know it's hard on you, what with your person leaving."  But I realized this weekend that 3 of my people are leaving my school, and with that realization came more tears.  

So if you see someone struggling, give them some grace.  They had no clue the trigger was coming.  And they're learning to deal with them the best they can.