Many writers use flashbacks as a tool in their writing. I do it so seldom in my writing that it is a tiny little tool dancing on the head of a torx in the bottom of my tool box under the used thumb tacks. Tonight I realized why.
I have PTSD, which is, at best, annoying. When something triggers flashbacks, it is far worse than annoying. It crippled me for hours earlier in the evening. I puked. I wailed into my hands so I would not wake anyone. I could not cry, but I so wanted to.
Putting the two things together, it is no wonder that I don’t use flashbacks as a literary device often. They are a symbol of fear and vomitng and wailing over something that was broken when I was a small child.
Now I have seen it. I might pry it loose to use for my benefit more often. Where it makes sense in the story, of course. It could like trying to use a hacksaw to brush your teeth if done badly. I try to avoid hacksaws in editing mostly. Not first rush of idea draft.
*flash flash* #flash