I Held That Watch

[Wounded Scribe]

And to think, I had therapy yesterday, and this afternoon, just an hour before I saw...that watch I was with the doctor for a med review.

That watch, is a Mickey Mouse Watch.


The significance of a Mickey Mouse Watch: In the 3rd grade, my distant family purchased a Mickey Mouse Watch for me as a Christmas present. I remember it well. It came inside of a light blue, watch case. This side of the family, represented my mother's side, and it was my mother who abandoned me when I was 4. She left me to die in that abusive home I grew up in.

I never wore the watch, until the night I went out to shoot myself to death.

I only had a narrow window of time to pull the trigger. I had been threatened on a Thursday Night. I covered my tracks with a lie that would expire on Monday. My abusive parents (father/ step mother) would be home Friday Eve, Saturday, and Sunday and my lie would come to light that Monday and that meant, serious harm to me for lying on Thursday. I was bold in my lie because I knew I would commit suicide Friday Night.

When I got home from school Friday afternoon, I carried out a suicide plan, about 7 months old. I had decided 7 months before, how I would take my life. I planned it all.

From the time I got home until the abusive parents got home I only had about a 2 hour window. I had to take my life between 3:45 PM and 5:30ish. I was afraid if I were around by Monday, they were going to hurt me, and I couldn't take a lifetime of abuse anymore. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365, I lived on those f/ing egg shells.

I got off the school bus, and started my suicide plan. I smuggled that rifle into the woods around 4 PM. Before I left my bedroom that day, I wore a shirt and tie, wrote my suicide note out, folded up my report cards and put them in my breast pocket, and I put on that Mickey Mouse watch, to help me keep track of time.

I ran the 1/2 mile or so into the woods. We lived in the country. There wasn't anyone around for miles. I sat for an hour, trying to work up the nerve. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I knew I couldn't do it, I got up and started walking home......... I, WANTED, TO GO HOME!!!!!!!

I looked at that watch and I saw the time. I had squandered that time trying to work up the nerve to pull the trigger. The watch on my wrist, that sweet little Mickey Mouse Watch told me I only had 45 minutes to live. It was now, or never, he was going to hurt me.

I went back and fired the rifle. The next time I saw the watch, it was smeared in blood.

I asked for my watch back when I left the hospital, they said I couldn't have it back, I ruined it.

Tonight, my wife wanted to stop in a store at the mall to look at purses.

As she was looking, I noticed a watch case and to pass time I went over to the case and started looking. There, it was. It was a Mickey Mouse Watch. I had seen them online but I had never seen one in person since that day.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't know, if I should rise to the challenge, run like hell, pretend it wasn't there. I sank to my knees and buried my face against the glass.

My wife came running over, "What's wrong????"

I pointed, and she saw it. "It's the watch...." Other than a chrome wrist band, mine was leather, it was the watch.

I asked to hold the watch. I felt ice water rip through me. I felt a cold wind blowing on my body. I smelled blood again and I smelled rotten leaves. It was happening all over again.

I had just left the doctor and we were both so proud of my progress. I Just spoke to my trauma therapist yesterday and I have to wait a week to see him again. I do see my general therapist tomorrow but he's not trained in PTSD.

So, I came here.

I feel numb. I feel nauseated. I'm taking my meds early and praying the nightmares don't come tonight.

 

[Wounded Scribe]

Maybe, I shouldn't have touched it. Maybe, I should have left it alone behind the counter, but I had to hold it one more time. I overcame and survived that moment. That watch ticked the seconds of my life away, and they wouldn't let me have it back because my blood had ruined it. God, what did I do to myself. I fear, tonight maybe rough but that's okay they say. I'll surround myself with my little ones and tell them how much they mean to me. Hold the dog.

This is why I need a service dog. A service dog would have been so helpful tonight.

 

[scout86]

I don't think you did the wrong thing, by touching the watch. I think that was brave, and wonderful, and consistent with the idea that you've made progress. You HAVE overcome and you HAVE survived. Do you still have work ahead of you? Sure, but picking up the watch was a gloriously brave thing to do.

The watch is just a watch. It has the meaning you give it. A flashback is just an illusion. It has the meaning you give it. The watch can be a badge of honor, that you survived and are overcoming your childhood. It can be a silent and sympathetic witness to your pain. It can be a lot of things.

IMO, that was well done! I wish for you a quiet, peaceful evening with those you love, concentrating on the beauty of loving and being loved, because that's kind of what it's all about.

 

[Wounded Scribe]

Thank You @scout86 it's these somatic (if that's the correct term) I'm going through. Cold chills, shakes, tremors, my brain is blanked, and I feel I as if I'm in shock. I repeated what we went over in therapy yesterday, "This isn't happening now, I'm alive, today." I have every candle in the house lit, breathing my aroma therapy. I picked up the house. Kissed the kids. Kissed the wife. Counted my blessings. I told my wife this isn't going to kick my a_ _ . I fought to hard when I was a kid, to wind up a blubbering bio mass at 40. I have to much to live for, and still see.

 

[scout86]

I get a lot of those same feeling when something happens. For a long time, I didn't get what was going on. All of a sudden, I'd notice I was freezing cold for no obvious reason. On one occasion, I had the chance to mention it to my T. He said, "That would be stress. You're body is reacting to stress." It seemed kind of stupid, that I didn't KNOW that, but I didn't. Recognizing what it is has helped a lot.

Remember, these reactions from your body will pass too. You know what's going on. "It's nothing but a thing."

I'm glad you've got your family around you! Sounds like you've made a good life for yourself, in spite of everything. There are SO many people who are glad you're alive! You are an inspiration.

 

[Seagreen]

Woundedscribe, don't doubt yourself. Although holding the watch was difficult, I think you would have run away and tired to forget about it if you weren't ready. What you did was stay and face your fears instead. Well done and congratulations on taking such a huge step.

This watch is obviously very significant to you. Expect things to be difficult for a while, but also try to remind yourself that what you are experiencing is part of the healing process and that it will end. Holding the watch has shaken up the past and now there is a lot of debris floating around. But in doing so you have also reached in and pulled some of the debris out. Once it all settles back down you will find you have cleared a little place in your heart and mind for peace to sit.

It would be ideal if you could see your trauma specialist before next week to help you understand and cope with your thoughts and feelings at the moment. Would it be possible to move your appointment forward at all?

I'm here to listen and encourage you along the way.

 

[Leigh925]

I think it was very brave to hold the watch and a step to overcoming the watch as a trigger.

Red shoes have always been a trigger for me. Last year I was out shopping and came across a pair of red high heeled shoes in my size. I picked them up and then shockingly I bought them. I had to run to the bathroom and throw up before I even left the store.

I left them in my car. I wouldn't even bring them in for the first day. I just laid in bed and thought about the red shoes in my car which was in my garage. My body was completely freaked....dizziness....the shakes....nausea....the works.

Truthfully I cut....I had a meltdown on the phone with my therapist. I was a total disaster.

On Sunday I threw up and cried but I wore those shoes to church. Of a course a friend who has no idea of my circumstances came up to me and jokingly said....." I love your shoes....my mom always said red shoes were for whores....but then again she had a pair in her closet."

Let's just say it was difficult but at the end of the day I came home proud. I did it. Throwing up didn't kill me....the shakes didn't kill me and the shoes didn't kill me.

Now I wear them all of the time. No one but me knows what it means for me to be wearing red shoes. It is almost like a secret I am proud of now. They have changed from being a trigger to being an accomplishment.

In a weird way it was almost like my brain was at a place that even though it was hard...my body knew I was strong enough and could now conquer the red shoes....even if I didn't believe it. The situation just developed and wasn't planned.

Maybe the watch is coming to you at a time where you are more ready than you think. I am proud of you for holding it. I think it was courageous.

 

[Wounded Scribe]

Thank You everyone so much :) Group Hug :hug: Your kind words have indeed, made my morning and all the more reason why I appreciate the forum and this community.

I intend, to buy the watch, have my wife keep it for the time. That watch, needs to be treated, unlike any other wrist watch. Though, I may not be ready for it, I want it kept somewhere safe, by someone who'll appreciate it. (Not that the next person wouldn't) That watch, counted down how much time I had left to live. Once, I could crawl no more, and I assumed they would find my body the next day (Saturday) and I had been crying out for help, I kept looking at the watch and the tree line. I knew, if I could see the tree line and watch, I was still alive.

I have therapy today but not with my trauma specialist. He's a general family therapist but he's very familiar with my case so, I'll chat with him today. I see my Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner on Tuesday, and she's always ready to dial up or down meds according to my chemistry and what my symptoms are presenting with, and finally, Thursday I see my Trauma T. I'm glad I started the thread here, because you've encouraged me, educated me, kept me company, and I'll have a good reference for next Thursday.

I don't want to touch or handle the watch again until I see the Trauma Therapist given how strong the reactions were. He may want to practice more grounding techniques, and perhaps, introduce it into my life further in session.

@Leigh925 thank you for sharing the desire to own red shoes, because I was worried, despite the reaction, I want this watch. I want, to wear this watch. I want to OWN this watch because to me I guess it means, I OWN my ptsd,it no longer OWNS me.

 

[scout86]

I want to OWN this watch because to me I guess it means, I OWN my ptsd,it no longer OWNS me

I like that! Great idea and a great way to look at it. (Glad to hear you made it through the night too. :)) And I'm really glad that we all have you around!

 

[Wounded Scribe]

The feelings mutual @scout86 I feel like I'm @ at some coming home party or family picnic. I'm among a company of my peers that get PTSD. For so long I've had to answer that question, "What the h@ll is wrong with you?????" I had no idea. None. Just like my watch experience, you guys, totally get it, experience it, understand and I am safe here. I had a near nervous breakdown in the middle of the mall, and I didn't care. That watch, brought me to my knees. My wife, understands now, and is fully supportive. It took years, but that's what makes marriage a lifetime relationship. I didn't know i had PTSD until 2011, and I wasn't officially diagnosed until fall of 2013.

We're going to go and buy it today, so it doesn't go to someone who is undeserving of it. I am going to OWN that watch and I OWN this. I will be as productive as my health will allow. Every time the crap knocks me down, I will get back up. That's all I've known, never stop fighting. I surrendered that moment I squeezed the trigger, and I hated myself for surrendering. I want to give my life away, loving my family, serving them, and serving others who I can. Especially others with PTSD and suicide related issues.

I won't wear the watch until at least Christmas and I get the clearance from my trauma therapist he may want to introduce it after I've had more time to practice grounding techniques because I suspect, the first time I strap that watch on, it's going to be a moment because I remember strapping it to my wrist that night and I haven't worn that in nearly 29 years.

I dressed up that night. Slacks, shirt, tie, dress shoes, and dress socks. About an hour after the shooting and before the medics arrived I glanced down and I saw my feet. My shoes were gone. I saw my dress socks. Throughout my life, I have felt as if I were going to pass out whenever I wore dress socks. I never knew why until my PTSD came to the surface in 2012. My wife had a light bulb moment when she heard me talk about the moment I saw my feet and within that image, I saw the mess I had turned into. That image....that was my body, dying. I was watching myself, die, not someone else, it wasn't on TV, it was me. The steam was rising up from my chest, saw briars, twigs, mud, blood, ripped clothes were all mish-mashed and I couldn't breathe and there were those damn black dress socks at the bottom of that image.

My wife says, "Honey. That explains why you have such an aversion to dress socks." For years, she never understood my hatred for even the touch of dress socks against my feet.

Today, I can wear dress socks and feel okay. Not totally relaxed, but I can wear them and not feel I am going into shock.

 

[scout86]

Wow!

I'm glad I came back here for a few minutes. I'm getting ready to leave for a therapy session. The past few days, I've come to suspect that my mother is actually "bat shit crazy", I believe that's the non-technical term, and that my childhood wasn't a train wreck as much because I was "difficult" as because she's nuts. I emailed him yesterday and asked if he'd ask "What do you want to talk about?" because he asks a lot and I never can answer it. I had decided that I wanted to talk about my mom. Now I'm having second and third thoughts about that! Which is maybe a sign that I should talk about it? @Wounded Scribe , I'm going to be remembering you and your journey all the way to his office, across the parking lot, and down the hallway. Thanks!

Can I ask? What happened to your shoes?

 

[Wounded Scribe]

@scout86 I lost them either, when the kinetic force of the rifle lifted me up and out of them (they were slip on dress shoes)...or, I lost them dragging my body through the woods. I never saw them again. I never saw the rifle again. I never saw my watch again. My suicide note was inside of my breast pocket and had turned into a bloody rag.

I bought that watch today. It's sitting next to me on my writer's desk, enclosed so I can't see it inside of a watch case. My wife and I agreed, it's not going to be given as a Christmas present, it's a trigger object. But as of today, I own the watch, that triggered the suicide. I took that one last glance at the time, and knew it was either get down to business, or go home, put the rifle away, and take the beating on that Monday, and I chose to step into the furnace.

I reached out for 7 months. I tried to get help. My first conversation about suicide, happened between myself and a police officer. He was standing over my body, watching me bleed to death. He wanted to know before I died, "Who shot you?" I said, "I did." As I pointed at myself. He asked, "Where's the gun?" All I could muster was, a glancing gesture towards the woods where I had just crawled out of. I was lying exposed to the elements in the middle of a farmers field. It would have been nice if someone talked to me about suicide before that night, it would have spared me much, much pain and suffering.