When we hear the word “trigger”, we often think of something that reminds us of what happened in the past. It might be a particular smell, sound, place or person, or a date that brings back memories of a difficult experience. Sometimes the connection is obvious. We can recognise the situation and understand why our body and mind have responded so strongly.
But not every trigger looks like a reminder.
Sometimes the connection is much harder to see. We can find ourselves suddenly anxious, angry, overwhelmed or wanting to escape without being able to identify anything particularly threatening about what is happening around us. We might even wonder why we have reacted in such a strong way when, objectively, nothing seems to have gone wrong.
This can be particularly confusing when the thing that has activated us is not something outside us at all. Sometimes the nervous system responds to what is happening inside the body, to an emotion we are experiencing, or to something we believe might happen next.
Understanding this can help us begin to look beyond the obvious trigger and become curious about what our nervous system may actually be responding to.
When The Body Becomes Part Of The Trigger
Our nervous system is continually taking in information about what is happening both around us and within us. Changes in our heart rate, breathing, muscle tension and other bodily sensations all provide information that can influence how safe or threatened we feel.
For most of us, these changes happen without requiring much conscious attention. We might notice our heart beating faster when we exercise, our breathing changing when we become excited, or our muscles tensing when we are under pressure. Once the situation passes, our body can gradually return to its usual state.
For someone who has experienced trauma, however, particular bodily sensations can become associated with danger.
Imagine that a racing heart, breathlessness, shaking or intense muscle tension were present during an experience in which you felt frightened, trapped or powerless. The nervous system does not necessarily store that experience as a neat story with a beginning and an end. It can also learn associations between particular sensations and the expectation of threat.
Later, the sensation itself may be enough to activate a protective response.
You might notice your heart racing and suddenly feel afraid, without knowing what you are afraid of. You may become dizzy and immediately feel that something is wrong, or notice yourself becoming hot and shaky and feel an overwhelming urge to get out of the situation. The original danger is no longer there, but your nervous system has learned that this particular bodily state can precede danger.
This does not mean that every physical symptom is caused by trauma. Bodily symptoms can have many different causes and should not automatically be understood as psychological. But for some people, recognising the connection between physical sensations and previous experiences can help explain reactions that otherwise seem to come from nowhere.
This understanding of the body as an important part of the trauma response is central to much of the work of Dr Stephen Porges, whose work has explored the relationship between the autonomic nervous system, physiological state and our experience of safety and threat.
Emotions Can Become Associated With Danger Too
The same principle can apply to emotions.
Shame, anger, helplessness and vulnerability can all become difficult states for someone whose earlier experiences taught them that these feelings were unsafe. Even emotions that we would normally think of as positive, such as excitement, intimacy or feeling deeply connected to another person, can sometimes activate a protective response.
The emotion itself is not necessarily the problem. It is what the nervous system has learned to associate with that emotion.
If being vulnerable was repeatedly followed by criticism, rejection or humiliation, vulnerability may begin to feel risky even when we are with someone who is trustworthy. If anger in our childhood environment was unpredictable or frightening, noticing anger in ourselves or someone else may quickly put us on alert. And if closeness has previously been followed by loss or rejection, allowing ourselves to feel deeply connected to someone can sometimes bring an unexpected sense of unease.
This can create some very confusing experiences. We might consciously want to be close to someone while another part of us is preparing to protect us from the vulnerability that closeness brings. We might want to relax but feel uncomfortable when we do. We might want to trust someone but find ourselves looking for signs that something is about to go wrong.
Janina Fisher’s work on trauma and its “living legacy” is helpful here because it considers the ways earlier experiences can continue to influence our present-day sensations, emotions, thoughts and protective responses, even when we consciously understand that we are no longer in the original situation.
Sometimes The Threat Hasn’t Happened Yet
There is another layer to this that can be particularly difficult to recognise: sometimes our nervous system responds to something that hasn’t happened at all.
Perhaps you are in a relationship that is going well, but somewhere in the background is the thought, “They’re going to leave eventually.” Perhaps someone is slightly quieter than usual and you immediately wonder whether you have done something wrong. Perhaps everything feels settled and you find yourself thinking, “If I relax now, something will happen.”
Nothing has necessarily happened in the present moment to cause the reaction. Yet the possibility of what might happen can be enough to activate the nervous system.
Our expectations about the world are shaped by what we have experienced. If earlier relationships repeatedly taught us that closeness could end in rejection, criticism or abandonment, we may develop assumptions such as, “People eventually leave,” “There must be something wrong with me,” or “I need to be careful because things can change very quickly.”
These beliefs are not necessarily thoughts we consciously walk around thinking all day. They can operate more quietly, influencing what we notice, what we expect and how we interpret what happens around us.
And when the nervous system has learned to anticipate a particular kind of threat, we can begin to organise our lives around preventing it.
If somewhere underneath is the expectation that people we love will eventually reject us, we might learn not to get too comfortable. We might look closely for signs that someone’s feelings have changed, prepare ourselves for the relationship to end, pull away before the other person can hurt us, or avoid needing anyone too much.
These responses may have made sense at an earlier point in life. They may have helped someone manage experiences that felt unpredictable, painful or impossible to control. The difficulty is that a strategy developed to protect us in one environment can continue to operate in another, even when the circumstances have changed.
When Nothing Seems To Have Gone Wrong
This is why a reaction can sometimes appear to come from nowhere.
Your friend has not rejected you. Their tone has not noticeably changed. There has been no argument and nobody has criticised you. The relationship may actually be going well.
And yet you suddenly feel uneasy. You become watchful. You want reassurance. You feel the urge to withdraw or create distance.
The trigger may not be the person’s behaviour. It may be the possibility of what their behaviour could mean.
The same thing can happen in many other situations. You may become irritable when you are hungry or exhausted. You may feel unusually uncomfortable when someone asks you what you want. You may become tense when someone is disappointed, even when their disappointment has nothing to do with you. You may feel the need to leave a crowded room as soon as you notice yourself becoming hot or short of breath. You may even find yourself shutting down when someone is being kind to you.
On the surface, these situations seem to have very little in common.
But perhaps the connection is not the situation itself. Perhaps it is what your nervous system has learned to associate with that situation.
Looking Beyond The Obvious Trigger
This does not mean that we need to search for a traumatic explanation for every difficult feeling, reaction or physical symptom. Nor does understanding a nervous-system response mean that every reaction should simply be accepted without question. Our responses affect other people and our lives, and there can be real value in developing different ways of responding.
The starting point, however, can be curiosity rather than judgement.
Instead of asking only, “What triggered me?”, we can begin to look at the whole sequence. What was happening in my body? What was I feeling? What was I expecting would happen next? What did the situation mean to me? And what did I feel compelled to do in response?
Perhaps the answer is to withdraw. Perhaps it is to seek reassurance, become hypervigilant, try to control the situation, please someone else, shut down or get away as quickly as possible.
Over time, noticing these patterns can help us distinguish between what is actually happening now and what our nervous system is preparing for.
That does not mean telling ourselves, “Nothing bad is going to happen.” We can never have complete certainty about another person, a relationship or the future. Instead, it is about becoming more able to recognise when the nervous system is preparing for an anticipated threat, rather than responding to something that is actually happening in the present.
There can then be a little more space between the first sensation of danger and the automatic response that follows.
That space matters.
Because when we begin to understand that a reaction may be connected to something our nervous system has learned to associate with danger, rather than simply being a response to what is happening in front of us, the reaction can begin to make sense.
This is an important part of trauma-informed care. At Khiron Clinics, we look beyond symptoms and diagnoses to understand the experiences, relationships, bodily responses and protective patterns that may sit underneath them. Trauma can affect how we experience our bodies, emotions, relationships and sense of safety, which is why addressing the nervous system can be an important part of understanding what is happening.
Sometimes the trigger is obvious. Sometimes it is a smell, a place, a person or a memory. And sometimes it is a racing heart, a feeling of vulnerability, the possibility of rejection or the thought that something might go wrong.
The nervous system does not only respond to what is happening, it also responds to what it has learned to expect.
