Triggers...not that kind of trigger.

For the longest time, when I drove by the parking lot when I tried to end it all, I used to get really anxious.  I could feel my heart racing and want to climb out of my skin.  I wouldn't call it a panic attack but I would definitely get nervous and not feel good.  My therapist pointed out to me that it was a trigger.  Triggers can be a place or a thing or a song or even a person.  For me, it was commuter parking lot.  As I would leave that area, things would settle and I would go about my day.  

So one day, I decided to face my trigger by driving back to the parking lot and parking in the same spot that I did on that terrible July day.  It was warm, not quite as warm as that day, but warm enough. I turned off the car and sat in the silence and listened to my body.  Everything was quiet, painfully quiet. I could hear the blood pumping through my veins.  I could feel the hairs on my arms stand a little bit.  I closed my eyes and could see the police cars surround me.  I could see the massive SWAT vehicle park itself directly in front of my little Chevy Malibu.  I was able to see all of the guys get out of their vehicles and set their weapons on me.  

At that moment, I was back at that very day.  It was almost a year later and yet, it felt as if I was still in the moment.  I began to feel my shirt sticking to me with sweat, as my heart was pounding to keep up with my breathing.  I began to relive the phone conversation with Theresa and felt the anger when I realized that she had contacted the police.  I felt the sting of the sweat getting in my eyes as I wiped the tears from my face.  I could sense the dread again as I came to realize that none of this was going as planned and I had made several key mistakes. My choices were dwindling and none of them good.

Then I noticed the smell of fresh cut grass.  Within seconds, I heard the growl of a poorly tuned lawn mower getting louder and louder.  I opened my eyes and was back in the present.  While the step back was incredibly uncomfortable, for me, it was necessary.  I needed to walk through each moment of that day to remind myself of how fortunate I was that I called the Suicide Prevention Hotline.  And that Theresa kept me on the line while the police tracked me down.  I had to remind myself of the look of sadness in my wife's eyes when she walked into the emergency room and held me.  It was probably the worst day of my life.  And probably the best day of my life. 

It's a little easier for me now.  I can drive by that parking lot and not get worked up. It's not a trigger for me. I admit, it's not my first choice of places to go hang out, but it no longer has that hold over me.  I needed to take back my control over that place.  It was a little easier for me than for others who's trigger may be a person.  I had the ability to have some control over it.  I could choose to go there or avoid it. Not everyone is so lucky with their triggers. 

I guess if you are aware of a trigger, get some help facing it and staring it down.  There is often a feeling of helplessness that goes along with depression.  Recognize the things that you can control and work on those things.  Don't do it alone. Find someone that can help you along that battle.  Sometimes, you just need someone to sit with you and hold your hand.  

Depression is a bitch and I don't say that lightly.  Don't let it own you.  Reach out to the Suicide Prevention Hotline if you need to talk to someone,  800-273-8255.

Whats your trigger?  

It's ok...

Going back to that July afternoon; by now I have now had my first brush with a SWAT team and had a dozen guns pointed at me, gotten my first ride in the back of a police car, and had handcuffs on.  All in all, a wonderful afternoon of firsts.  So let's proceed to the ER at the hospital; the destination of my first police car ride.  

I think we can all agree that at that point, I was in what is referred to as "in crisis."  

I was led into the ER and passed through the waiting room.  So I guess I was getting the VIP treatment.  I was taken into a room and offered a seat.  Sitting with handcuffs behind your back is not what I would refer to as comfortable.  

An officer was standing in the doorway, I guess to make sure that I didn't take the cuffs off and tear the place up.  Actually, I kinda understood why they left them on.  When I was in college I worked at a psych unit in a hospital.  I had seen more than my fair share of guys that tried to do just that with limited success. 

After a few moments of silence, the office stepped out of the room and then came in.  He said that if I continued to be calm, they would take the cuffs off. I was reminded that this was based on my continued cooperation.  

As the blood began to flow through my hands again, I enjoyed the moment of silence.  It was several moments and quite honestly, all of the morning's events was kinda sensory overload.  It was cool in that ER room and no one pointing a gun at me or yelling at me was a welcome relief.  I was finally able to shut out much of my surroundings.  

I think I mentioned the 12 year old officer that was trying to make small talk with me during the period of no cuffs in an earlier post.  Was a bit odd, to say the least.  But the quiet allowed my mind to slow down a bit.  

And then my wife walked in.  

She did not run in and scold me or anything dramatic.  She simply knelt down to hug me.  I had never been so embarrassed in my life.  I had truly failed as her husband and partner.  I can say so with no hesitation that was the absolute lowest moment in my life.  Obviously, my thinking was still quite distorted and I was not well.  At that moment, all I could do was hate myself even more for not having the balls to go through with it.  If only I had just pulled the trigger, I wouldn't have to face this moment.  

How fucking selfish of me.  

Even though I had it all figured out so that I would park somewhere so that the family wouldn't have to deal with me and that I would shoot myself outside so no one would have to clean up, I was still so clueless about the effects.  And as I sat there with my wife holding me, and shame washing all over me, all I could do was think of how I could have avoided this moment by pulling the trigger.  

I tried to fight the tears but was unsuccessful.  I began shaking as she held me tighter.  She continued to tell me that it was ok and that we would get through this.  That she loved me and that I was going to get the help I needed.  My spiral into despair continued.  I did not deserve her and she certainly did not deserve me.  I couldn't look at her and I couldn't hug her.  I have done lots of stupid shit in my life for which I was mortified upon realization, but this was the absolute worst.  It would have been so much better if she had come in and told me what a fucking asshole I was.  But she just had to the take the damn empathetic and loving approach.  Damn her.  

I was no longer that tough guy that proudly walked out of Cabelas with a new gun.  I was a shattered man that has reached rock bottom. Actually, that guy was pretty shattered but had yet to face any of it. Well, it was now time to face the reality of my mental health.  

The point of this one is to remind you that when you are in a serious depression, it is impossible to think ahead.  The fallout of your actions is the furthest thing from you at that point.  Really, I had not yet begun to face the fallout but it was the very beginning of realizing just how selfish I was being.  I had devastated the people that I loved and loved me.  I had put them through something that no one should ever have to go through.  And not accepting responsibility for that would be the shittiest thing ever.  

Don't kid yourself, you can't do this alone.  You cannot cure your cancer on your own.  You cannot diagnose your diabetes on your own.  Talk to someone.  And dont beat yourself up once you get to the place of realizing you need help. Push the self hatred to the side, you have time for that later.  

The people you see at Wawa...

I get up around 5:00am each weekday and drive up to my job about 30 miles from my house.  Its a hellish drive, takes about an hour and a half and two hours in the evening.  DC traffic is the devil.  So each morning, I stop and get coffee, typically at a nearby 7/11 or Wawa.


In the fall of 2018, one blurry-eyed, chilly morning, I pulled into Wawa and found a parking spot next to a police car.  Nothing unusual, just a couple of cops in their squad car, chatting.  I got out and went in to get my cup of rocket fuel to get through the drive.  While pouring, police officers came in.  One of which was the female officer that spoke to me in that commuter lot last July.

<gulp>

I am not sure that I have ever been "triggered" before so I was never certain what that meant, until that very moment.  Standing at the coffee counter, I was instantly transported back to that moment in July of 2017.  Feeling the sweat and heat of that day, sitting in my car, pressing the gun against my head.  Overcome with despair and hopelessness that rocked me to my very core.

The officers immediately walked to the coffee counter and began pouring cups for themselves.  They continued to chat about someone in their department that was requiring everyone to complete additional training that neither felt was necessary.  They did not appear to notice me soaking in everyone word spoken by the two of them, but the woman's voice was drilling into my brain.

They were chatting about someone they worked with and how they had an issue with something this person had said.  To be honest, that was about all I could make out.  I just could not take my eyes off that woman.  

As I sat in the car that July day, soaked in sweat and panic as the SWAT team began to take their positions around me, her voice was like a lifeline that I couldn't decide if I should take.  I knew that the day would not end well, regardless of what I decided.  But her soft approach was welcome after the previous officer's more direct and hard tone.  She seemed to be empathic to the mess I was in and less threatening.  I guess her approach just spoke to me and encouraged me to take the path of less bullets flying into me.  

Within moments, they paid for their coffee and were back in their vehicle.  I instantly regretted not approaching her and thanking her for her help that day.  I wanted her to know that for all of the shit that they likely deal with, her work that day was greatly appreciated not only by me but my family, as well.  

Pretty sure the people behind me are getting pissed at my slow pace.  I snapped out of the moment I was sent back to and finished up. 

I know that I will forever carry the events of that day and look forward to not panicking as the anniversary of that day approaches.  But until then, I will alway be watching for that officer as I get my morning cup of coffee.  

If you wanna talk...

After I threw the weapon out of the car window, I got out and walked towards the swarm of SWAT guys with their guns pointed at me.  I guess so they could shoot me in case I tried to shoot myself.

Anyway, the offer that I had been talking to kept yelling at me to stop and turn around with my arms up in the air.  I wasn't in the mood to take his instructions since I knew that this wasn't going to end with me going home.  I walked towards him and he kept asking me to slow down and keep my arms up where everyone could see them.  I had sunglasses on and the tears and sweat was making it hard to see.

The female officer who I spoke with on the phone met me halfway between my car and the SWAT truck.  She said that for the safety of the officers, they had to put me in handcuffs and put me in the back of a squad car.  So I guess the one positive out of all of this was that I finally was able to answer to these stupid quizzes on Facebook that I had, in fact, been in the back of a cop car.

I am a big guy and cop cars are not exactly designed for comfort for the large man.  Alright, small guys, too.  You ain't rolling in style in the back of a squad car.  I was kind of laying on the seat as I could get my legs in otherwise.  As I mentioned on an earlier post, it was really hot that day and the black plastic seat nearly left me with third degree burns.  But I was glad to no longer have a dozen guns pointed on me.

As the car went through the parking lot, I saw more squad cars than I had ever seen in my life.  Honestly, never seen anything like it.  There were probably a dozen cop cars.  I was exhausted and wasn't all that pleased at the turnout for me so I put my head down on the seat for the rest of the ride.  I think there was only one officer in the car and he didn't say a word to me.

We arrived at a local hospital and I was led out of the car into an exam room.  Of course, the two dozen people in the waiting room had the good fortune to see the police bring a large man in handcuffs through the ER.  I am sure they were excited to see something like that and I was sooo happy to be part of their big day.

They kept me in handcuffs while I was in the exam room.  I said that they were really uncomfortable and the officer said that they were necessary for their safety as well as mine.  My patience was wearing very thin at that point and I began to remind him that I had been very cooperative and this was getting pretty ridiculous.  Before he could respond, a nurse walked in and began taking vitals and asking what brought me in.

After the nurse finished, she pulled the officer into the hall and spoke.  When they finished, he said he would take the cuffs off as long as I remained cooperative.  While I was relieved, I wasn't ready to fall at his feet in gratitude.  He took them off and I began to enjoy blood flow to my hands again.  He then stepped back into the hallway, making certain that he was able to see me at all times.  I simply sat there with my head in my hands, wishing that I had had the balls to do what I had set out to do.

After maybe 20 minutes, another officer came in with the original one that brought me.  They were switching out or something.  This new guy could not have been more than 22, with blond hair and peach fuzz on his chin. He mentioned his name but I wasn't really listening.  The only thing I did hear was the threat of returning to handcuffs if I tried to leave.

This time, the young officer stayed in the room with me and attempted to make small talk.

It sure is hot out there.  That humidity is killer.  

Ah huh.

Since I was not really in the mood for small talk, there was a brief moment of silence.  And then he said this:

You know, if you wanna talk about what got you to this point, that's cool with me.  

I lifted my face from my hands and looked at him.  I was a bit bewildered by this statement and unsure of what to say.  Should I say something polite or tell him to shut the fuck up?  I opted for no response.

Well, I will be out in the hallway if you need anything.  

I had to hand it to him, he was much more polite than the previous cop.  But I had a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that some 20-something year old might have an inkling of where I am in my life.  While he was certainly well intentioned, it was not helpful at that moment.

Anyway, it was soon after this that my wife was brought into the room.  I am going to save that for the next post.  This post was more about me remembering the day and some of the surreal moments.  Again, this was an awful episode in my life and I cannot stress enough the importance of reaching out to someone if you are feeling that your only option is suicide.  Don't try to go it alone.