For this fine Sunday we present two little pieces written by our own Diane M. Dickson. One is an article the other is one of those odds and ends tales best suited for this feature in its own indefinable little way.
Diane works on the site every day, but as a successful novelist who (on average) is producing two full length works every year we rarely see much from her other than the good works she does for others. There is no special tie-in to be found between the article Triggering and the short tale Pay it Forward other than both are written by Diane. I could make up a bluesky link of some kind connecting the two, but honestly, this is intended as a look at (regrettably infrequent) works by one of the site founders–who has been involved with this prolonged act of madness for nearly ten years.
Triggering by Diane M. Dickson
I have had this on my mind for a while now and thought I’d best put it down to get rid of it. Now, first up, I know very little about trauma and only what I have read and seen about PTSD, which is ghastly, I am sure. I would never wish to cause distress to anyone, and particularly to someone who had already suffered.
As a writer, I try to be considerate, with novels and with shorts and as editors of a short story website, myself and my colleagues try to be alert to any distress that could be potentially caused. We put ‘Adult content’ warnings or ‘Strong Language’ or sometimes this story contains what some may feel is ‘Blasphemous’ and we add Do not read if you think you may be offended or upset. Of course, because humans are human and the internet is what it is, we have people complaining that they are offended. What can you do?
So, I am aware that you have a duty to take care, but I feel that has to be balanced against too much self-censorship. That’s my take on that.
A couple of years ago now, we, as a family, went through a torrid time. It involved attempted suicide by one of the most beloved people and was followed by harrowing illness and then a rapid descent into dementia by someone else and this culminating in a horrible death in the middle of the lockdowns and the resulting terrible funeral. All very grim and I know we took a while to come back to anything like what passes for ‘normal’ I am still visited every day by thoughts of what if, and if only and so on.
Where am I going with this? Well. You would think wouldn’t you, I would be a candidate for being ‘triggered’ by certain things and the other day I read something about suicide – it made me think of my family member with love and brought forward happy memories of when he was well.
I do become irritated when I read about ‘what happened at number 10’, but that’s mainly because I hate being treated as if I don’t really matter and that’s how it makes me feel. I know that Boris and his cohorts drinking and debauchery would have made no difference to the lonely death in a care home. It just makes me angry because they were so uncaring and selfish. I have seen descriptions of lockdown funerals, and that really makes me feel a kinship with all of us who had to do that. So, I wonder if maybe we should not think so much about being ‘triggered’ as being ‘reminded’ and perhaps some of that can help us cope – I could be totally wrong. Happy to admit that and I only speak about a very personal view of it but maybe if we accepted we will encounter accounts of similar experiences over and over and accept that they will hurt but that is because we felt deeply and then acknowledge that there is nothing wrong with feeling deeply but that it is a price for loving deeply and not shy away from the emotion. Please don’t pile on because I am simply musing about how we try too hard these days to guard against being ‘upset’.
Paying It Forward by Diane M. Dickson
Once she got her breath back and her heart had slowed to something approaching normal, Anne turned to where Simon was sitting beside her, eyes closed, listening to the football on his ipad.
She glanced again at the little piece of paper in her hand. She checked the numbers again. 16.27.40.39.5.3. Her belly did a little jumpy thing, and she thought she might be sick.
In a minute she would tell him, in just a minute, but first she needed to hold on to this one last moment. Once she spoke, everything would change and it would change forever, absolutely, no question.
The gate next door rattled, Gina and the kids coming home. She could hear them giggling. The baby stirred in his sleep and murmured quietly. She leaned to the bouncy chair and stroked his cheek. On the mantlepiece the clock ticked, and the blackbird in the garden practised his love song. It was all so gentle, so homely and familiar.
In her state of heightened excitement, it wasn’t difficult though for her mind to go back. This fizzy bubbly feeling was so close to the other sensations, the fear, and panic, and the desperation that had nearly driven her over the edge. In the other time, before Simon and baby Patrick and the blackbird.
Nights in the rain and days in the dirt running and hiding and trying to keep some sort of life together.
She had come such a long way, and it was all so precious, so normal. For many people, normal wasn’t enough. She knew that. Thousands, probably millions of people who might have found themselves in this place where she was now would be overwhelmed, and that was the whole problem. She didn’t want to be overwhelmed. Never again, she wanted to stay normal. Normal was priceless.
She closed her eyes. What should she do? The sound of a mobile phone out in the street swept her back and down, down to the darkest depths that she had ever visited, back to the pit she had believed she would never be able to climb out of and the kindness of a stranger and palpable love that had come down the line and gathered her up and lifted her away from the horror and saved her from destruction.
She looked again at her pretty little house, at her husband and their baby, more special and precious than life itself. She knew what she must do.
She went into the study room and filled in the envelope, and then she dialled the number.
“Hello Samaritans Jane speaking.”
“Hello. I am sending an envelope to you. It has a lottery ticket in it. Please don’t throw it away, have it checked. You’ll understand when you get it. Can you make sure everyone knows? I don’t want to give my name.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll make a note. Is there anything else you want to talk about?”
“No, not now. You saved me. One of you saved me once. Thank you.”
She put down the phone and went back into the lounge. Simon was just walking through into the kitchen. She gave him a quick kiss.
“Do you want a cuppa?”
“Oh yes, please, lovely. Hey, did you check the lottery ticket?”
“Yeah, usual result. Nothing this week, but then we’ve got all we need, haven’t we?”
“Yeah, course we have.”
literally stories 
Diane
When the government didn’t complain about maskless protests because the theme matched their agenda and yet disallowed funeral services I vowed to never support anyone then in office ever again. Brilliant look at honesty and the responsibility writers should take in their works. Just grabbing a sensitive topic unknown to the writer just to have something to write about is a very bad idea–and as you know, it clearly shows.
And thank you for the little ray of sunlight the second one passes along.
Leila
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Thank you Leila – There was so much wrong with the funeral thing but I have to keep on telling myself that none of us knew how to do things and I think most people were doing their best. Not the government as it turns out but the funeral directors, care home staff, and so on. Weird times which are becoming more and more difficult to remember just how it felt.
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Good stories. The second is a bit cheering.
Don’t think I’ve ever written a trigger warning or seen one.
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Thanks Doug. I haven’t written any in my own work but I have seen them often. I am sure everyone means well but I wonder if we are being just a bit too careful and hiding from the idea that life is hard at times and awful things happen but you have to find a way to cope and keep going.
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I forgot about Hugh’s many mentions of sex and swearing before his stories. Spillwords does mention swearing before their stories. Those might have been trigger warnings, not sure.
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I’m not sure they are trigger warnings – unless the odd profanity makes you swoon like a Victorian maiden. I am thinking more about the ones that warn of suicide ideation, abuse of various sorts and grief etc. I think with Hugh’s no matter how much we warn people they have to just jump in and survive and I don’t think we would have him any other way! We now have messages from various on line sellers who send a message saying ‘do you want to avoid mention of mother’s day, father’s day, etc.’ I just think well is it not just as sad to say no that doesn’t apply to me any more than to see that other people are still treating their loved ones to treats and enjoying being together.
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Agree. Another question – should there be warnings of bad jokes ahead? I hope not. Mr. Mirth
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Oh no I don’t think anyone should be warned of bad jokes that’s part of the fun of them 😄
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A nice Sunday treat. Love the line “we’ve got all we need, haven’t we.” Not everyone can say that, but I think more can than want to admit it. As noted in the essay, in some cases people should consider “triggers” as “reminders” and thus an opportunity for growth or acceptance.
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Thank you David. I believe that these days we are told we should all want more than we have and it makes us disatisfied when we should be content. There are so many people struggling that if you are able to look after your family and have some pleasures then you are doing okay.
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Diane,
In the spirit of transparency, as I do with Leila’s works, I’ll post my initial comments with maybe a few pieces of shite added in.
Fuck! Do we need a trigger warning if any poor soul has ever been to the toilet or have problems in that way??
Do people know that we now have a Barbie Doll with one leg, one in a wheelchair and one with a stoma bag?? I find all that very distasteful and not for the narrow-minded reason. You see, I read an article a few years back about a lovely lady who designed bespoke dolls that had the same ailments as their customers. (For the kids that is) I thought that was a brilliant idea until I saw the Barbie brand get in on it!!
My initial comments:
I think this is a brilliant topic that should never have ever become a topic.
What is so great about your article is that a lot of it is from a personal perspective and you have touched on a point that folks miss – Personal trauma and any reminders simply take you back to those times. And here is the point, those reminders can be anything, not necessarily a mention of the specifics. I think anyone who has experienced life and has a take on it, understands that.
If we blanket the whole issue, then any piece of work that deals with death should all have a huge trigger warning as we have all dealt with death.
If people are affected so easily due to a mere mention, I wonder about the depth of the feeling that they had initially. Being triggered and any subsequent vocalisation of those triggers may point more towards an attention seeking personality than a genuine reaction.
In my experience, it is the wee daft things that get to me more than being subjected to stories of cancer, heart disease, dementia, death etc. (Mention Blue-Tack, Liquorice Allsorts, knitting, coal fires to name but a few and then I have a lump in my throat.)
Censorship / triggers should never be needed. Read, listen or watch unless you BEGIN to feel uncomfortable – If you do, simply stop.
How fucking stupid must we be to keep doing something that upsets us??
Paying It Forward:
I remember you helping me with a story about The Samaritans and I really did appreciate that. I can honestly say that I’d love to be in the position to give a lot of money to charity…Or do what my uncle did.
My Uncle Dougie formed a charity for a couple of Children Units and made sure that he asked them what they needed and went out and accessed that. He had found out that if he handed the money to a charity, only about ten percent went to the cause.
And onto my comments:
I’d be interested in the follow up where he finds out, burns down their house, sells the wean and murders her!!
This is beautifully written and Leila pointed out that some folks need a wee bit of lightness every now and then.
…Me, I live in the darkness!!
…And Gwen’s name would have been obliterated from my vocabulary!!!!
…I lie. I suffer (Adore but I’d never tell her!) the fiends that she chose so I’m talking pish
It’s great to see your work on the site!!!!!
Hugh
And this is coincidental – I’ve just read about the lamest ‘Trigger Warning’ in the history of lameness. I will explain on Saturday’s Post.
HAH!! Maybe you Mick Bloor and James McEwan will be the only folks who’ll get the reference!!!!!
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No pressure on Saturday, Diane and James….
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Thanks Hugh, you are really very kind. I totally agree, it’s the little things that give you a jolt and if we had to take that into count we’d need trigger warning floating above us all the time. There is nothing wrong with being upset in my opinion it just shows that you care. I agree about charity, I no longer donate to the major ones because I don’t want my money to be used for maintaining offices and running cars for directors and such like but the Samaritans do hold a spot in my soul. There are plenty of other ways these days to give some help and make sure it means what you want it to. I’m looking forward to Saturday.
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Really enjoyed the second piece – great writing. I was wondering about those lottery numbers: have you given ’em a try?
ps. now 600 pages into The Physician. The marathon race section is definitely a highlight, but the whole book gallops along at a terrific pace. Great recommendation.
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The marathon race reduced me to tears and I still remember that. Ha – No I haven’t given the numbers a try. Thanks you for the comments.
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Beautiful and wise sentiments in your first piece that I wholeheartedly agree with. Boris and his bunch of bastards did a huge amount of bad, enough to keep a nation ‘triggered’ for years to come. It takes real wisdom I think to turn this into ‘reminded’ – really made me think this piece. Equally, the lottery story is also beautiful. I love your understated, every day style of writing – there is such warmth that comes from it because it feels like you’re listening to a friend.
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Thank you so much for your very kind words. I love the idea that you felt my story was like ‘listening to a friend’ that comment makes me very happy.
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What a beautiful story Diane. So real. Felt like I was sitting in their sitting room. Thank you.
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That is very kind, thank you.
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The lockdowns were really tough for everyone, I have heard these tales of lockdown funerals, and lockdown deaths. Both stories connect with the subject of suicide. Gratitude and grace in this second story.
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thank you so much – yes the lockdowns were tough and it was little things like the fact that people who had died couldn’t be prepared in the usual way and were sent off with so little care despite the funeral directors doing their very best in terrible circumstances.
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