Do you trust your instincts?

My instincts and intuition are the only things I trust.

I fully accept that I have major trust issues. I’m not exactly sure where they stemmed from. Childhood? Negative experiences with romantic relationships? Life in general, probably.

Oh, this is no “whoa is me” post. You won’t find me whining about my lack of trust or those who broke it. I acknowledge it, I accept it, and in its place have built a solid repertoire of instinctual and intuitive skills. I will have utter trust in a person or thing, until I don’t. Once a break in trust occurs, it gets permanently flagged in my mind. Envision a beautiful, rolling countryside covered in utility flags of red, green, orange, yellow, and blue. That’s my mind. Each step through that landscape signifies a way I should, or shouldn’t go, based on previous life experiences.

My mental landscape is extremely well mapped out.

I’ve learned to listen to those instinctual tugs. At Easter dinner about four or five years ago, for whatever reason, I decided to forego my normal glass (bottle) of wine. This was unheard of back then, as the only way I was able to get through family events was with a little buzz on. Something kept me in the kitchen, posted by the back window, where I knew I was supposed to be keeping watch. About an hour after dinner, my nephew flipped over our four-wheeler with our daughter, son, and a family friend inside. Instincts had me out the back door, jumping over the deck, and down to the crash site within seconds. Luckily, no one was seriously injured that day, but when every cell within my being tells me to do, or not do something, I listen.

I have over three years of sobriety under my belt today, which only helps to pinpoint my instinctual accuracy. That is saying it lightly. My instincts and intuition are fucking solid when alcohol is not involved. I can easily pick up on lies. I feel other people’s moods, even over text messages or phone calls. I know which path or option to take, even without knowing.

Do I trust my instincts? You’re Goddamned tootin’, I do.