On PTSD: Triggers and Choices (with poem- Every Direction They Come)




Fucking fireworks.


Now I can give you a very simple explanation of why that sets me off, and it may appear irrational to you. I can give you a simple explanation of why any one of my dozens and dozens of triggers set me off. The issue is that would take forever because I have so many. They are fucking everywhere.


So tonight I had choices with the fireworks. I could have

A) Immediately went home.

B) Stayed, then left to go get shitfaced.

C) Stayed. And chilled out. Then acted normal when I got home.



I was with my friend and she never witnessed me have a trigger attack before. My face went blank. Tears swelled in my eyes, and they were glazed over. Head went down.  I was somewhere else. She turned to me when she noticed I wasn’t responding. And she started freaking out. I said- “trigger”. And she was like- “OMG! WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO!?!” And I said, “Stay. Enjoy the fireworks. I’ll get shitfaced later.”

We stayed, she enjoyed the fireworks, and then we walked the boardwalk like normal people do. In that moment I chose Option B.


The issue I’m faced with is that I have so many triggers. And, often, I don’t even know something is a trigger till it happens! Surprise to me. Yay. Another one on the list.


Therapy has not helped me with my PTSD and coping when out in the real world. In fact, it’s helped me with nothing. I have been to so many therapists. Even at-home therapists. Specialists. DBT (annoying). CBT. Mindfulness (bs common sense). Meditation (that was the worst). I hope it’s helped you.


The best thing has been medical marijuana. I didn’t have my vape pen on me at that moment. Bad on me.


In any case, what I want to do at this point is bare my trigger the best way I can. Just bare it. Go through the pain. Go through the feelings. Relive the memories. Relive the grief. Relive the hopelessness. Relieve everything in the hopes that

eventually I will be desensitized.



Good news- So far tonight I have been okay after the firework situation. I am right now at Option C. I’m okay. I haven’t had any major problems. But it’s only 3AM as I write this. The night is young.


Every Direction They Come, a poem by Drem

July 17, 2016

“They are so much


in every place,

that I am

bombarded with

sudden mood shifts.


Taken back.

Time warp.

Where am I?

Back then.

Bad place.

Take me home.

No, I can’t.

Take me home.

I am stuck.

In a cage.

In my head.

Eyes seeing

what isn’t there.

Take me home.

There is no home.

It isn’t safe

in my head.

In my own head

I’m taken down.

Bullet, bullet, bullet.

Blade, blade, blade.

Pills, pills, pills.

Day after day.


Every day.”

(C) Drem 2016

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