Why I Don't Want to Avoid My Biggest Trigger


People always say to stay away from your triggers. People always say not to run back to what broke you. People always say to stay away from danger. But did people say that sometimes the danger you should stay away from would be the people you shouldn’t have to stay away from? Did they tell you how painful it would be to struggle between wanting to stay away and staying close to them because that’s all you’ve ever known? Did they tell you anything at all?

I don’t want them to be a trigger for me. I don’t want to hurt people. I don’t want it to be this way, but it is. It has to be this way. I have not come to fully understand this until now. My biggest trigger is my mom and dad.

In my opinion, detachment from your primary caregivers is the one thing that can “ruin” a family. It sucks the life out of every member of that family and takes its dreary toll on them over the years. I mean I could tell you about how much it sucks but I won’t. The words “detachment from your primary caregivers” should be frightening enough.

I believe having borderline personality disorder (BPD) has made my family’s life hell for most of my life. My detachment has made my family struggle through so many years of trying to understand where they went wrong or how they could help me more. This, in fact, is somewhat untrue because my family has helped me in more ways than I can count. Their love and devotion to try and understand me have been present since day one. They also didn’t do wrong. They did the best they could with what they knew, and that was it.

Being detached from the people you love is definitely a difficult thing to be because, the farther away you are from them, the harder it is to connect with them. That familial connection is so important. For my family, there is a minimal connection. We fight daily about the smallest and biggest things that mean nothing and everything all at the same time. I mean really, it’s quite the war.

This war amongst my family members and myself has been happening for as long as I can remember. I was detached from my parents and siblings even as a child. I just did not have a bond with them like I did with my grandparents. My grandmother and grandfather were the centers of my world, and they still are. We would spend every second together; laughing, playing, singing, cooking, doing chores, gardening, swimming, going on adventures, learning; basically everything. As Julia Child’s husband Paul would say, they were: “The butter to my bread, the breath of my life.”

“The Golden Years,” as I like to call them, were short-lived. They lasted for seven years. Once my grandmother passed away, my grandfather and I were never the same. I bottled up my pain while he freely let it show. I don’t know how he did it, but he found peace. I wish I could say the same.

In any case, the dynamic between my parents and my siblings has been affected a great deal. I am … detached, for lack of a better word and for the sake of using the correct terminology. I have yet to understand why this detachment still exists, but I do know that the reason I was detached as a child was that I was so close with my grandparents. I know this hurt my parents a lot, and I have so much sorrow inside for what they have experienced, but I do not regret and will not apologize for the wonderful times I spent with my grandparents.

What I’ve noticed just now, as I’m writing and re-reading what I have already written, is that I am telling a very skewed story here. I mean, yes I had a great time with my grandparents, but there were also wonderful times with my parents, and my siblings once they were born some years later. I can just see the joy and love in my mother and father’s eyes as we play a family game or do something together as a family without arguments. Those moments make me happy too.

I realize now that I’m rambling — sorry — about my unbelievable family life. I guess I’m just hoping things get better so that we can get back to laughing and having fun as a family. I miss those days. I miss being able to share my happiness with my grandmother; my grandfather and I get so lonely without her sometimes. We miss her so much. So much…

Some days, I feel as though my family is too broken to be fixed — too hurt and destroyed to be glued together again. Other days we are soaring through the day on good terms and having the time of our lives. Well, at least this is how I feel and see things. I hope my siblings and my parents see this too.

If you or your family life is affected by mental illness, please seek help. Our family has looked into it but has not decided on anything yet. This is from someone who is the only family member with a mental illness and the only family member who is seeing a social worker and a psychiatrist. It’s a way to alleviate some of the pressure and the pain off of the shoulders of yourself and your family members so please, go seek help if you need it. There is no shame in asking for help. Do not feel less than anyone because you did. You need to do what is best for you and your family, not anyone else.

– E

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Thinkstock photo via dobok


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