everything is triggering, nothing is triggering

some days, everything is triggering for me- like flowers, or bedtime stories, or being alone in the dark. the full moon through window blinds. the vikings football team. glass cups, pretzels, red wine, painkillers, stuffed animals, carpet, nighttime, my little pony, leather couches, blue tv screens, falling asleep, even my own fingers.

sometimes i’m triggered by just thinking of my partner’s story and abuse and i’m sent into a full blown panic attack. other times i’m triggered by someone else’s story- my friend, people on here, my father. i used to have no idea why this topic made me genuinely suicidal and upset until actually looking back on my childhood and remembering things.

other days i feel nothing at all. nothing stirs anything inside of me. not the pain i have from sitting down. not the throbbing ache deep inside of my belly, or the rough spot inside of me where i think i feel scar tissue, or the lower back pain, or the pain i have going to the bathroom. no panic, no fear, none of the dread i’m used to. just a constant sick knot right below my ribcage that doesn’t go away.

the days where im not triggered are worse, though, and sends me back into a spiral. did this happen, or didn’t it? does my grandmother’s ex husband even remember me? does my neighbor? did i fabricate all of this as a desperate grasp to “play victim”?

i’d rather be battered in the storm than sit unknowing in the calm. at least then i’d have evidence for myself.