Emotional Stealth Bombs

If you were ever the recipient of an emotional stealth bomb you would know it.  You would know because you would be in obliterated emotional bits, with virtually all of your amygdala (the emotion centre of your brain) fragmented all over the place.  You would probably also have lost the capacity of ordinary speech, as you fail at every attempt to communicate your painful position and frustration to those stood about you looking baffled.  In fact, the baffled are usually the ones who are in absolute oblivion that they are also the stealth bomber.  How else would they be so accurate at hitting you right on the crumple button, if they did not already know where your bodies were buried?  Good luck trying to unpick the fall out of (a) the blast (b) the aftershock and (c) the injustice of it all. 

Emotional stealth bombs are words that are uttered in matter-of-fact, reasonably polite conversations between you and the bomber (disguised as your close friend, family member or work colleague), where both of you remain temporarily in unawareness of the depths to which the charge will finally explode.  You might register that the other person just said something that skirts around one of your wounds, or as is said in the world of self-development, ‘areas for your growth’, but neither of you will be aware in the moment the words are uttered, of the affects of slow release and eventual catastrophic fall-out.

The stealth bomb, silently bouncing nicely under the ego radar, usually takes between 1-3 days to permeate into your consciousness and detonate.   Recognition that you have been emotionally obliterated will usually appear as irritation, quickly segueing to a lot of annoyance toward the other person and then downright injustice at their cruelty for saying such a hurtful thing (how could they?); a flood of eye-puffing tears, the rise of deeply buried pain and final rocking in a dark room, defenceless and overwhelmed by … well, being defenceless and overwhelmed. Welcome to fragmentation.  And the consideration of ending the relationship.

Analytically, if someone does bomb you, then you can, as they also glibly say in the airy-fairy world, choose your response.  You can either (a) load up, target up and unleash the counter-attack beast, or you can (b) recognise that they are so low in their level of intellectual frequency that the obliteration did also contain a very important component – that their ‘intention’ was never to hurt you.  

Never, ever, in your ordinary daily doings, seek, ask for, or expect an apology from anyone – they are an energy haemorrhage waiting to happen.  What to do instead is to actually reflect on not what they said, but why it hurt you so much?  If an old wound was exposed in the blast, then you do have a great opportunity to work the sting out of it.  Not to run away and build the best ever bunker, but to gain mastery over the very part of you that is painfully exposed.   Recovery requires recognition, a lot more tears maybe, and a different perspective before eventual reparation.  It is hard work but work worth doing because next time, when you hear the faint putt-putt of an old World War 1 fighter plane, you will know that you can no longer be touched.

Carole Sawo