Out of Left Field

It's funny, I have an entire list of unpublished entries, mostly just started so I wouldn't forget the subject I wanted to cover (and there are quite a few... and seems to grow by the day), but somehow I forgot one of the biggies- triggers. And man, is this world full of them.

Some of them I've seen coming (whether that actually helps... eh... ). Like the anniversaries and holidays;

One month was weird. Just a week prior was the Celebration of Life, we were all still in shock, and honestly I had zero sense of time. Actually, still kind of working on that. While the calendar says second week of June, I think I'm still stuck somewhere in May.

Month two and three weren't as big. The day came, and while I was aware of its presence, it didn't cause much more than "how can it already be two months?" as a response. The gut punch fell between those dates- Mother's Day.

If only we all observed it the way the creator intended- learn more about it HERE

Although that may make me seem a curmudgeon, I honestly used to really enjoy the day. Thanks to Facebook (sometimes it has things of worth to offer other than trolls and political posts shrinking friends lists daily), I was sent an "on this day" reminder of the last Mother's Day in Kansas City before we moved. It was a beautiful and perfect day. And of course upon reminiscing, I cried. But at least this time they were happy tears.

I have a feeling I'll subconsciously keep the trend of acknowledging the month markers (being aware as they near, thinking "I can't believe it's already been x months, wash, rinse, repeat). But the holiday season is going to be a doozy. I'm already trying to figure out how to skip November and December entirely.

In those two months live not only the obvious holidays, but my parent's anniversary, and both their birthdays. As someone who is pretty bad at remembering special dates, I used to love the fact my mom and dad were both born on Christmas- so many birds with one stone! But now, it's going to be a really weird mix. Actually, the word I'm looking for is suck. It's going to really suck.

And then, of course, shortly after December comes February of the new year, which will bring along with it the one year anniversary. Which, well, it's a while away, so we'll see what that brings.

While those are/have been/will be hard, there is some sort of anticipation/preparation for those that make them a little easier to manage. They can be seen a mile away on the calendar. Or via commercials that start three months before the holiday (I'm looking at you Christmas ads in September). But the ones that tear the rug out from under you are the ones that you would never see coming. Like a picture frame.

Yes, a picture frame. Specifically, the picture frame hanging on the wall in my bedroom. I bought it a long while along. Long enough ago that I have completely forgotten the picture I intended to put in it, and have grown accustomed to the filler picture still happily residing within the four black sides. Bought it at Dollar Tree, along with a handful of others, all still housing their original stock photos, to make one of those gallery walls.

There is nothing special about these frames. But, while lying in bed, enjoying the sound of the wind blowing in the trees, the wonderful spring air coming in the windows, I teared up. Because the dollar store frame somehow took my brain down memory lane of trying to find the right frame to hold a sign at the Celebration of Life memorial for my mom.

I don't remember where I ended up getting the frame I used. There wasn't anything necessarily special about the frame I chose other than I liked it, it felt like a good fit for the decor of the space, and it had a stand on the back. I do remember searching for the right one though. And standing in the aisle of at least two stores fighting back tears*, dreading the moment some salesperson approached me to be helpful. And wishing I were back on the coast where there was no risk of said helpful salesperson approaching me.

Never would I have thought that months later I'd remember that moment while lying at home, staring at a completely insignificant picture frame hanging on my wall. But I did.

These triggers are the hardest. Sometimes you kind of know they're coming (ex: when I went to see Parade with a friend and I just knew Act II was going to hit hard. BTW, I underestimated the hit by a long shot, but thankfully everyone else was crying too, so... yay?), and therefore you can kind of guard yourself (I use that "kind of" with a huuuuuuuuuuge grain of salt. More like kosher, or that fancy schmancy rock stuff you have to put in a grinder. Zero judgement there, that's what's currently residing on my counter). But mostly it's the stuff that comes out of left field when you're not even playing baseball. Something on a television show. Someone standing in line at a store. A car. A song. A smell. Seriously, those not so friendly reminders are effing EVERYWHERE.

And yes, the recent losses of Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain have shone a giant, blinding, spotlight on  mental health and suicide, and has started a desperately needed public conversation (I only hope it doesn't fade), but it's also turned the world into one giant trigger.

It's slowly becoming easier to handle. Of course I say that, but this morning when they were teasing into a spot on the "suicide epidemic" on the Today show I grabbed the remote, exclaimed "NOPE," and switched it to the safety of The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.** So... maybe I'm still working through it. And that's ok.

One of the last conversations I had with my mom actually included discussing this very topic. She suffered from severe anxiety, and triggers for her were everywhere. It kills me I didn't fully know everything she was going through, but, as is true for most people who have loved ones facing anxiety and/or depression, none of us really can ever know the depths because that is not something one can truly empathize with unless they've experienced it themselves. And while I've had my moments of anxiety (and no, I don't mean the severe butterflies in the stomach of being "anxious," I mean debilitating anxiety), I only now can sort of begin to understand what her world was like the last year or so.

And let me tell you, it fucking sucks.

Never knowing what is going to set you off. And not necessarily knowing if you'll be able to make it better on your own. Wanting to just stay curled up in the safety of your bedroom. Under the covers, with three very cuddly animals ready to stay in bed with you, only to realize that the unassuming picture frame hanging on the wall can you send you spiraling.





*Holding back tears while shopping was the norm while prepping for the memorial party. Thank goodness I always have at least one handkerchief on me.

**Tina Fey, as if I needed another reason to say this, I am thankful you are in this world. And you looked smashing at the Tony Awards.