Survivors' Voices: Triggers, Part 3
In offering reflections on the topic of triggers, one of the In Spirit and Truth Survivors’ Voices Panelists, Kathryn Walczyk, mentioned a piece she had written several years ago for Presence: An International Journal of Spiritual Direction. I found her exploration of triggers in this piece to be particularly clear and poignant, and I am sharing an excerpt here, with her permission.
You can find Kathryn’s complete reflection, titled From My Chair: An Understanding of Spiritual Abuse, Trauma, and Well-Being as a Spiritual Companion, on her website here.
Triggered From My School Desk as a Seven Year Old
Sometimes I would look at them, the teachers, when they spoke of Jesus that loved children. Sometimes I listened to their stories and forgot to be afraid. I felt warm inside. I felt the love they spoke of. My heart would soften and defenses melt. They told us that Jesus was the Father’s son and that we would need to be friends with Jesus so the Father would love us.
That is when the anxiety (trigger) would begin. I didn’t want to be friends with Jesus. I didn’t like the way the Father loved us. The Father hurt us. Hot shame would rush through my body. My brain couldn’t figure it out. Was this a trick? “Stop talking!” I would silently scream. My head would hurt. My stomach would churn. The insides of my body would begin to move fast. It felt like the cells of my body were rapidly moving, bumping up against each other, repelling each other. The conflicting understanding of God was physically happening within me.
I would try to escape my body. There was no escape. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t hide. I couldn’t stop the teacher from talking about God. Father priest and Father God became one and the same. I was too little to understand. The room would feel as though it was spinning. Suddenly everything would stop. I would feel nothing. I became nothing, nobody. The teachers would talk. I could not hear them. The world was moving. I became a statue, an invisible statue. I could not move or speak. Time stood still. Similar experiences would happen at church, at school, and at the home of the priest. Sometimes I would faint. The teachers would have me sit down. Some said that I fainted because I was growing too fast. I fainted because my body was shutting down. My brain couldn’t understand. My body couldn’t escape.
Triggered Decades Later as an Adult
I thought I was done with the flashbacks, triggers, and memory retrieval. This day, a spiritual helper triggered my memory of the classroom experience… Emotion began to rise. Confusion set in. I was in public. Betrayal. Panic. Anger. Confusion. I could not see straight. I could not think. I could not figure it out. I just sat there. I could not say anything. Anger, then tears, then disbelief, then confusion. I could not stop the circle of emotion. I did not know what was happening.
I left the church to gain composure. The tears kept coming. I drove home. Rage filled my body. I left angry messages on the spiritual helper’s telephone. That helper answered, and then hung up. The triggered trauma doubled. Childhood emotions mixed with adult emotions. I was spinning. I felt the emotion of the classroom experience just as it was happening right now, without the memory itself.
After arriving at home, I began to freeze up. Pain filled my paralyzed body. I was in full panic and could not move. I threw up. A friend came over. She stayed until I could fall asleep. Immense emotion would sometimes lead to suddenly falling asleep. Maybe the sudden sleep replaced the fainting of childhood. When I woke, I felt lost.
Thank you, Kathryn, for sharing this piece with us. I am grateful for your honesty and wisdom.
~ Sara
PS: Readers, please take time to dig into Part One and Part Two of this series on triggers, if you have not read them yet. There are many powerful stories and perspectives shared in those pieces as well. I have one more special submission coming on Wednesday.