I was writing a flashback in Cicatrix - a very vivid one, of my protagonist seeing Kai - who's just re-entered her life after ten years - going off in an adolescent psychiatric ward. Now, for those of you who are lucky enough to have never experienced this: going off is what they call it when you lose your shit, when things get violent. When they have to restrain you.
So I'm writing this, particularly the struggle between Kai, who is a delicate li'l girl, and one particular orderly (although others pile on near the end). And he takes her down, and he is straddling her, and someone else is yanking her pants down because they give you the sedative shot in the ass.
And my protagonist? Starts dissociating, and flashing back even further, to her childhood sexual abuse.
And so I spend like the next ten minutes with a hand clamped over my mouth all shit, that - I didn't know that was there. I knew the character's abuse was there; it's a major part of the plot. But I wasn't expecting to be channeling that flashback today, you know?
Am vague here, because I don't want to trigger anyone all unawares. But the scene itself is very detailed. In the ten-years-ago sense, not the seven-years-before-that sense; the protagonist keeps pulling herself back to the present. Still.
EDIT: Seriously, I'm going to be okay. But I think that I'm going to have to get this novel out, writing my ass off and letting it pour through til it's done and out out out, and I think I will have to make it clear to loved ones while I'm doing it that I'll need extra cuddling and, at every available opportunity, stuffed grape leaves.