Although the sting and shock of Laurie's death has diminished over the weeks and months, I'm finding that I am still jolted by what I'll call "conversational triggers". These are seemingly insignificant comments made by others that cause me to have an unpleasant or painful memory. Often this happens without notice, and without the other person even realizing that he/she has said something troubling.
The pain of these triggers gets to me in a deep way, and with such quickness. It's like a sudden ambush. Lately, some of the conversational triggers that have hit me are:
** any reference to duct tape
** casual references to drowning
** casual references to suicide like "if this doesn't happen, I'll kill myself" -- how thoughtless...
** questions about how many brothers and sisters I have
Sometimes even talk about Starbucks or about going to Cubs games will hit me in an unexpected way. The net result is that I feel less stable, and less confident. I teeter on being in control, and then out of control. How different life is now...
greg
P.S. Yes, doing the open water swim in the triathlon was a difficult mental challenge for me. That's probably why I never worked an open water swim into my training plan. During the race, I chose to pay more attention to my looming physical challenge than upon the emotional triggers of the moment.
5 comments:
Greg
I'm with you on the triggers. Last week someone at work had a t-shirt that said "Duct Tape Council" with a fictitious logo. I was not amused.
And I'll admit, before Laurie died I joked about suicide. I'd pretend to put a gun in my mouth, or to slip a noose around my neck, or to slit my wrists.
That couldn't be less funny these days.
You & your family are in my prayers.
Greg,
Thanks for putting down some of the triggers that you have experienced. I so am there with you. Last weekend I went to a musical with friends and one whole song was about suicide supposedly, comically. I was caught by a crushing weight; I literally had to tell myself, "Take a breathe, take a breathe. You can get through this."
And what I know: I will never, to the best of my ability, ever make another joke, gesture or implication that there is any thing remotely amusing about taking your own life. It's just NOT funny.
I love you, brave son. I prayed especially for the swim portion of the triathalon. Don't know how you did it. Well, I do. God held you.
Barb - I think you've probably got about the neatest, most caring, most tender-hearted, insightful son a mom could have.
Greg - I think you've probably got about the most encouraging, supportive, compassionate, wise mother a son could have.
Getting this glimpse into your relationship is a grand privilege.
That's all.
D.D.
Greggie, I know what you mean, too. Fortunately, almost every time I have been able to react well, without freaking out. In fact, there was actually one time that *I* inadvertently did it! My classmates and I were talking about a huge project we had to do that had almost no impact on our grade, yet was impossibly difficult, and I said "Don't get me wrong, I'm going to do my best on this, but I am certainly not going to kill myself over it." Then there was this long, akward silence, before someone said "thank goodness it was you that said that. Anyone else and it would have been a mess." That was the first time I really noticed how often people, even me, say things like that. I'm sure I'll never get to the point that I think it is funny, or even acceptable to comment about suicide, but it makes me wonder if I'll ever get to the point that it doesn't feel like a punch to the gut anymore...
Always,
katie
PS Debbi is right, we have the coolest, smartest, bravest, funniest, best mom in the whole wide world!
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