You were somewhere else. Sarcasm flew out of your mouth. You screamed the harsh words. You shut your partner out. You shut yourself down. You disappeared into silence, or you lit the whole room on fire. And then you told yourself some lie about why (“Y”).

But let’s be honest. It was bullshit.  It happens more than you care to admit. And then when you gaze across your life, you see the damage.   That was activation. That was your nervous system lighting up like a Christmas tree at 3 a.m., screaming a story it memorized before you even had words for it.

This is what we call Trigger-nometry. The sacred, sweaty math of reactivity. It’s not woo. It’s not vibes. It’s a war map. It’s trauma trigonometry. Let’s solve for Y (Why?)

The Formula: T = P + R + S. Your trigger is a sum. A precise equation running the background programming the ‘sum’ of your reactions and your body.

• P = the Past (the wound that never closed)
• R = the Response (your chosen panic style: fawn, fight, flight, freeze)
• S = the Story (the meaning you assign to the moment)

Your boss calls a surprise meeting. Past says: “You’re about to be ambushed.”
Response: Freeze. Fight. Numb. Story: “I must have messed up. I’m in trouble. I am going to get fired.” Your body didn’t react to your boss. It reacted to your pattern.

The trigger wasn’t about now. It was a flare sent up by a younger you who remembers everything.

Here’s an example: The Text That Took Too Long. Let’s get personal. This used to be my narrative in my friendships and early relationships. You send a text. Minutes pass. No reply. It’s been read. The person goes offline. You feel a tightening in your chest. A wave of hot shame behind your ribs. A quiet little voice whispers: “They’re ignoring me. I said too much. I’m too much.” Your brain tells you it’s no big deal. They’re probably driving. But your nervous system doesn’t care.

Your trigger math looks like this:

• P (What happened in the past) = You were ignored as a kid. Maybe more than once. You were told to go to your room when you were “too much”.
• R (Your learned response — what response best succeeded in the past) = Fawn. Apologize. Or spiral. Or go cold.
• S (The story you are telling yourself) = “I am always too much. I should’ve known better. I misread this – we aren’t friends. And my internal dialogue begins – Why would they want to hang out with you or even talk to you? You are so needy. You are so stupid.”

Actual threat: zero. Emotional math: lethal. Because this isn’t just about a text. It’s about every time silence meant punishment. Every time love got withheld like air. And you learned to hold your breath.

Projection: The Subconscious Slide Projector

You ever hate someone fast? Like instant rage, instant repulsion —
and they haven’t even done anything yet? Someone once told me – if you meet someone and you really dislike them (for no apparent reason) instantly, pay attention: that’s the thing about yourself you refuse to accept. And I couldn’t get it. Everyone I met who I unreasonably did not like – my thoughts were “arrogant wanker.”  But how could that be what I refused to accept about myself? Was I arrogant? I couldn’t see how this could possibly be true. I had to be drunk to say boo to a goose.. Only later did I realise – projections don’t have to be literal. No, I wasn’t an arrogant wanker – but there was the clue to what was an issue- I was jealous as fuck about anyone who has confidence, because I desire that. I want it so much. To feel like I can own my space because I never have. To feel like I can have a voice, which deserves to be heard.
That’s projection. That’s your shadow slapping their name tag on one of your own disowned traits. You’re not just annoyed. We will get more into Projection and how to spot it in Pod 4.

Emotional Geometry: Trace the Angles

Let’s get surgical. You’re in the car park crying and you don’t know why?
Cool. Trace it like a forensic pathologist.

This is your five-step Trigger Blueprint:

1. Sensory Input — what set you off.
2. Body Alarm — what physical alert went off.
3. Emotional Flashback — what it reminds you of.
4. Protective Response — what you did to survive.
5. Meaning-Making — what story filled the silence.

Map it. This isn’t a healing crystal. It’s a crime scene. Get your gloves on and start collecting data. There’s no cheat sheet to healing. No three-day challenge to ‘trigger-proof’ your soul. Healing is slow math. It’s unsexy. It’s work. It’s repetition. Sometimes it looks like rage-writing and ripping the page out. Sometimes it’s texting “I need a minute” instead of vanishing for three days. Sometimes it’s recognizing the moment you almost spiralled — and choosing not to. I once said to a friend of mine – You know what’s awful really. When you train for a marathon, it’s a long hard slog. Day in, day out training – even in shitty weather when you rather wouldn’t. But in the end, you cross the line and post a photo, and you get hundreds of Facebook likes etc. And there’s external validation. It’s really not the same with healing. It’s lonely and so personal. When you break a pattern, it’s a bigger win than finishing a marathon. And there will be no applause, no “likes,” no amazement at the feat of accomplishment. But that moment? It will change the trajectory of every decision you make. That’s mastery. That’s revolution. That’s the boring, beautiful backbone of healing.

You don’t need to be less triggered. You need to be less unconscious. You don’t need to explain yourself to strangers. You need to understand your own fucking math. Because here’s the truth about triggers: They are precise. Surgical. Exact. They don’t stab you randomly.
They know where your wound is. So, it’s time to meet them with equal clarity. Map the system. Interrupt the pattern.
And for the love of your own future — stop solving for ghosts. You already have the numbers. Now, do the math.

Neen, out.

PS Pod 4 will be Projection – The Optical Illusion of the Psyche