Triggers

As I've grown towards understanding how to deal with past hurts, traumas, and toxic people, I've learned that triggers are something that still often attempt to get the best of me. 

And today was  another one of those testing through fire/refining days for me. 

Hearing those words, "All I know is that your dad would be so disappointed," were, I'm sure meant to hurt me, or at least stab real hard with a little twist of the wrist for emphasis while the knife was still in. But in the words of my massage therapist, "I've learned to own my own shit." Those words, which were meant to hurt me, just bounced right off. 

... or did they? I'm still not sure why, when people try to project their uncomfortableness with me, onto me... why do I even care?? Why do I even give a 2nd glance towards the hurt that they try to nail on me, when it's their problem. their perception of me. their desire to control the uncontrollable. and their inability to control their forked tongue.

like a snake... venomous, toxic, slithery. 

I hate snakes. I watch for them, are aware of my surroundings when there's a possibility that there might be one hiding in the grass somewhere... I avoid them at all costs. I don't go where snakes dwell. I don't ever desire to be near one. 

And so it is with this...

My dad's sister Connie. Broken, disabled, unable to mind her own business. Quite nimble with her story sharing, & her keen sense of awareness from her crows nest view into everyone else's business. Questioning me? About my business?! And then those words...

"All I know's that your dad would be so disappointed."

And my response was quick witted & spot-on... "You bet he would be!"

*crickets*

Complete silence, & then stammering, with her not knowing what to say next.

HA! 

But later, I can't seem to stop all of the old, toxic patterns of thought from swirling inside my head. Old lies, old memories. Thoughts from the past that I thought I'd already dealt with & were gone. 

Thoughts of "not good enough" or "never good enough"

You be the responsible one... take care of your sister... call her sometime... won't you try to talk to her... pull up your bootstraps and be the better person. 

Always being the protector... the keeper of the secrets... the only one who could handle the truth, yet I'm being questioned NOW as to the authenticity of the stories that she told? 

Never before told versions of the twisted story, like they've never been heard before, and, psh... people actually believe these stories?  

Why must my heart & mind even engage in an emotional battle with toxic people?

Why has our family legacy become to know, yet to hide the truth at all costs. 

This should make me absolutely furious, and it does. Yet, I'm not sure how to temper the emotional side of boundary setting when it comes to her. And although, I don't intend on being mean, or condescending, I feel it necessary for one or both of those things to take place in my heart & mind.

I don't want to waste a minute of my time on them. I don't want to feel as if the next bomb is gonna drop, or the next surprise story version might be released. So why does it always catch me off-guard like it does when stupid people do stupid things?

We're all our own sort of dysfunctional, and yet nobody ever wanted to talk about their own crap, their own hurts, or their own family dynamics... just everyone else's. Case in point:

• strange family dynamics that nobody ever talks about.
• estranged sisters who don't go to their own nephew's wedding.
• folks who pass away & things get ugly afterwards.
• parties take place that we're never invited to, and that's ok.
• but here's the deal... don't talk about me behind my back when you've only been fortunate enough to hear the sweetened condensed version of the story from a bitter sibling who has a twisted view of reality.

These triggers come unexpectedly & threaten to catch me off guard. It's unfortunate that people have so little conscience, that to muddle in their own matters without senseless drama. I hope to find someone who can help me navigate through the boundary breakers who are too uncomfortable in facing their own giants, so they attempt to slay mine. 

Talk about a bird walk.... at one mention of something uncomfortable happening, or transpiring, it seems that someone always tries to infer that it's somehow my responsibility to make everything all picture perfect again. Well, just like all of those old polaroid camera photos, somebody's focus is completely off. Because somebody mistakenly has identified me as the responsible one for everyone else's dysfunction.

not. happenin'. 

period.