Triggers and Teachers

Photo by Olga Lioncat from Pexels.

Photo by Olga Lioncat from Pexels.

This will probably trigger you regardless of your background, but sometimes triggers move us toward being better friends, family, neighbors, or fellow humans. Proceed with caution.

The abuse began when Celeste was seven. It continued for twelve years. An older family member had groomed her so skillfully, she hadn’t even realized the gravity of his behaviors. As she began to process what had happened, she sought support from her ecclesiastical leader.

Celeste had grown up fully involved in the religious tradition of her parents. She felt certain her priest would offer sympathy and sound advice. His response was shocking.

“What did you do to provoke his behavior?” the pathetic excuse for a spiritual leader said.

That was Celeste’s last encounter religion. Her elderly grandparents, who lived with the family, later came home to find Celeste unconscious next to an empty pill bottle. Several hours later, she woke up in the ER.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” the physician said.

“Oh, really?” Celeste said, “I was trying to be dead.”

“If you feel this way again,” the physician said, without concern or compassion, “you might want to call someone.”

Then, without a psychiatric assessment or follow-up, he discharged her to walk home alone.

When Celeste arrived home, her older brother and sister met her at the door with a suitcase.

“You need to leave,” they said in unison. “It’s not good for you to be here.”

Thus began Celeste’s decades-long battle with drugs, alcohol, and depression. She’d lost her family, her innocence, her faith, and her anticipated future as a professional athlete—she’d qualified for the Olympics. Amazingly, if you ask her now what she would change if she could go back in time, she would say—and I know because I heard her say it—“I wouldn’t change a thing.” She miraculously finds the cosmic value of every experience, no matter how difficult or unjust.

Even the agonizing and brutal experiences teach us important lessons. Often the lesson is empathy for others. Thank you, Celeste, for your example.

Jeff O'Driscoll1 Comment