I can relate Arfie. Also to the smell of grease and even the smell of the special soap for getting off grease. It triggers me and to this day the smell of either disgusts me. My step-father (who was always good to me), could not understanding the issues of why I hated the smell of grease, could not understand why I didn't want to learn to change the oil in my car or change a flat tire or learn other basic car skills. I would just tell him that's why I have insurance with road side assistance. I come from a family of almost entirely boys. I was the only girl in my generation until the age of 13 and the garage was a play area for the men and boys to work on their toys. But the fun never ended in the garage for my father.

I don't think it is irrational reactions for you to be triggered by the man-aprons. It Is something that reminds you of a traumatic time. Sounds pretty rational to me anyway.

Good ramble....I hear a door creaking open.
I feel you already may have taken steps to prove your worth over and above especially in your knowledge and technical work history.
kinda like "This how it's done "

As for FIL/Son...
...I'm sorry for the generational cycle of personalities....did it skip the hubs? Or are you better at reading the hubs?

Anyway time to suit up, this sounds like a memory roll out getting started.

Hugs and kibble.
J

With emerging memories, I try to stay focused on allowing the memory to resurface with as little disturbance as possible. Healing my amnesia has been a delicate process with no clear beginnings and no clear ends. I believe my emerging memories are exceptionally vulnerable to power of suggestion, be the suggestion mine or someone else's. I keep wanting to declare the amnesia healed, but... The ordeal of knowing what all I have forgotten is a toughie.

small bites and long chews.

Yea, my 1999 breakdown was triggered by a lonely old retiree that smelled like lawn fertilizer and sexual frustration. Now I find myself trying to remember if he was also wearing a man apron...might have been.

Still rambling...

My therapist tells me smell is the sense most connected to memory, so your description of its role in your 1999 breakdown is consistent with that statement by my therapist.

As for me and smell, my therapist and I have noticed that when I have severe flashback episodes, I completely lose my sense of smell during it. Kind of like smell dissociating, going numb. Weird, but now I know it's a PTSD symptom for me.

**Trigger Alert** From here on warning-may trigger:

As for clothing triggers, I teach college and wear casual clothing while some of my colleagues prefer coats and ties. It's not a casual statement on my part. It's just that I associate fancy suits with my evangelist dad, who was also my abuser. He wore the finest in the pulpit, and administered severe beatings while wearing them.

Once when I was 5 years old he was tying my tie for me before church one Sunday and I didn't stand still enough for him. He yanked on the tie with one hand and punched me in the face with his fist with the other until I learned my lesson. So I prefer not to have a tie around my neck as it feels like a noose or a leash and I wait for the punch subconsciously while wearing one.

It makes sense that for you man aprons are bringing something up to the surface. It's good of you to be patient with what it means and let the meaning unfold. It took me a while to recall the origin of my preference not to wear ties and suits.

Good for you. And make him take off the apron. It bothers you, so you don't need to be bothered; you know there's a link now. That's enough.

You know when I was 5, a 16 year old red-headed boy tried to rape me. Long story short, when I was 40 and in a local pub with friends, in walked a red-headed man, the same red, the same face shape....and I shook all over, never having thought about this boy in ages. I asked my friend furtively who he was, I cowered like a child, hidden from the man. It wasn't him. It didn't matter. The memory was back. I got to ask all kinds of questions then because my Mom was still alive. I don't think the world knows what it is like to be raped as a child. My Dad's rapes I had to deal with. This one, I didn't because it wasn't completed. My cousin whom I talked to recently knew about the red-headed boy, but she also knew there was a child rapist at large, not the red-headed boy, only, back then, but my father.

I went to 'visit' the old farmhouse where I grew up. Along one of the outbuildings grew some papery trumpet flower/weeds. Hadn't seen those in about 3 decades. Those stupid things caused me to FEEL so much... though I couldn't tell you any memories associated with them.

Sometimes remembering the past is like catching a ball in the fog. With mittens.

Glad something's coming back.

What triggers me? I may need to go through a maze to track down....

Absorbine Junior does me in. It is what it is. Knowing that it tirggers me and why? I can put it in a "box" and say "OK, this is that box. That was then. This is now." Doesn't always work, but I try.

Work in progress here. I have so many memories still coming up. the holidays have triggered a slow steady bubbling flow, like Old Faithful.... wearing, because sorting it out is wearing, too....

Ramble on. I have to ramble forever sometimes to get to the heart of the matter. Should've seen me figuring out the Absorbine Junior thing.

I am triggered by a specific ethnicity of an individual... For me, I must realize it is not "their" fault, but it continues to haunt me to this day...

When I am triggered, I must step back and take care of myself to the best of my ability... That is not always easy to do...

I share a little at a time with others... Being silent is the most painful thing for me...

Hang in there... It does change... I know that to be true... Lila