M
Matt_M
I've been robbed at gunpoint 3 times. Once while in middle school. Twice in college. I've also been witness to or involved in several other violent crimes and dangerous situations.
And no im not a drug dealer or a criminal. I have literally just been at the wrong place at the wrong time.
The first time I was 13 and getting off the bus from school. My buddy and I were walking home and this car with 4 dudes stopped, got out, ran up to us, and pointed guns in our faces. They harassed us for a few minutes, took some random stuff, then told us to "get the f*ck out of here and if we ever see you again we'll kill you."
That was the first time I ever had a gun pointed at me. I still remember my heart sinking, time slowing, and the out of body experience. I was definitely paranoid from that point on and almost got jumped by another group of guys a few weeks later. I never told my parents because I didn't want them to worry. The walk home was never the same.
The 2nd time I was 19 and in college. I was a late night delivery driver and I got a call from a guy named Tony around midnight. He was placing an order but didn't know what he wanted or what we had. It wasn't the first time that happened but should've been a red flag. After finalizing the order I left for the delivery. It was in the ghetto but I've delivered there several times before.
When I get to the street, it's pitch black dark and I have a hard time finding the place. I park my car in the driveway of a place that looks like the right location and get out with the head lights on so I can see. I walk down this middle alley and then up the stairs to the second floor when I notice the windows are boarded up. I immediately know something isn't right. I hurry down the stairs toward my car when two guys with guns and full black gear from head to toe, faces covered in masks, jump out to cut me off. The alley is a dead end on the other side and they're between me and my car. I'm trapped. They set me up. I remember my body doing an abrupt shake when I saw them. I drop the food and one guy hits me and tells me to get on the ground. Almost whispering, he says, "don't make a sound or we'll kill you."
He rummages through my pockets while the other guy points the gun in my face. Then he goes through my car. During this time I contemplate what it's like to die. What I'll do if it comes to it. Mind racing and time seemingly not moving. In the ghetto. In the middle of the night. In an alley. By myself. In the pitch black dark (except my headlights). They can kill me and no one will even know.
After a few minutes (that seemed like an eternity) he comes over to me and says, "where's the money at?" I had $7 on me. I told him that's all I had. Then they both start to get angry and say, "man if you don't give us the money, we'll kill you." Then the other guy says, "man let's just shoot him."... he looks at me, waves his hand toward him as he walks to the corner and tells me to follow him....
I'm not going to take you through the entire altercation. I often think back to that situation and try to figure out how I convinced them to let me go. I somehow kept my cool and made myself human to them through calm conversation. They left. With $7, my phone, my wallet, my peace of mind. They didn't even take the food.
I got back in my car and I drove right by them as they were running away. I thought about running them over but they let me go so I did the same. But the most peculiar thing happened on the way back to work. An old lady, homeless and frail, came up to my car when I was stopped at a red light. She said she was hungry and did I have any food. I gave her the bounty of two sandwiches, two bags of chips, and two cookies.... I'll never forget the look in her eyes.
The third time was a year later. I had actually quit that delivery job a few months after the incident to focus on school, but I needed money so I got a similar job at a sister store nearby. It was a Wednesday night and was actually my last night on the job. I was about to start a new job more related to my field so I traded my Sunday shift for an earlier Wednesday shift to get a head start.
It was 4am and we were just about closed. My manager, a good buddy of mine, took out the garbage and came back in with a gun to his head. The guy was dressed in all black with a face mask, same as before, and was yelling wildly. He was definitely on some kind of drugs.
My first thought was this wasn't real. Then I had the all too familiar out of body experience and altered time. Fight or flight instincts kicked in. I stepped to the side where a wall covered me, but he didn't like that. He ran up to me and yelled, "get the f*ck on the ground!" I laid out like a bear rug and he put the gun to the back to my head and yelled to my boss, "you got 10 seconds to open the safe or I'm blowing this motherf*cker's brains out!"
Then he shoots him in the leg. I thought I was dead. "10!"..... "9!"..... "8!"..... my boss gets to the safe. He was taking forever. I thought about yelling at him to hurry up. But I remained silent. The guy would probably have shot me. Then I wondered what it was like to die, to get shot in the head. Then I told myself if he gets to one I'm not just going to sit here. Thinking. Thinking. Heart pounding.... "4!"..... "3!".....
He opens the safe and takes out the money. Then the guy gets up, points the gun at him, and tells him to carry the money to the back door. My boss, my friend, had to walk toward the guy, shot in the leg, with the gun pointed right at his face. Seconds later I hear a gunshot. I remember the smell and the smoke. "He's dead," I thought.
I look back and my boss is walking toward me. The guy just pulled the trigger by mistake when he went to run. That could've happened at any time but we made it. I can't express the relief I felt. My friend and I both survived.
The ironic part was that was the slowest night the store has ever had. $300 in the safe. Not to mention it was going to be my last late shift ever. And I traded somebody for it. That guy owes me. And I should get free sandwiches for life.
In addition to those traumatic experiences, I've witnessed shootouts up close (2 groups of guys literally shooting at each other 15 yards away). I saw someone shoot up a gas station when I was pumping gas. Not to mention the harassment by gangs and crews when I walked by. I grew up in a bad neighborhood lol.
I'm now 28. Years removed from those experiences. I'm married with a 3 year old son and I have a great job in a better neighborhood. The trauma hasn't affected my ability to succeed but it has affected my ability to be at peace. I'm borderline paranoid and I worry excessively about my family's safety when I'm not around. I have a fear of loss of control, I believe. I don't like to fly anymore for example. The list goes on.
4 months ago, my parents were in a serious car accident. They were rear ended by a semi truck that was driving 60 mph while they were stopped for traffic on the interstate. My father was killed and my mother was seriously injured. She's suffering from physical and emotional trauma and needs my support as well.
I don't want these experiences to affect my life or my ability to be there for my family. But it starts with me getting help. This is my first time seeking help. I've told the stories but not in the context of therapy. Any advice or guidance would be great!
Thanks for reading my long winded tale. It was cathartic to write.
And no im not a drug dealer or a criminal. I have literally just been at the wrong place at the wrong time.
The first time I was 13 and getting off the bus from school. My buddy and I were walking home and this car with 4 dudes stopped, got out, ran up to us, and pointed guns in our faces. They harassed us for a few minutes, took some random stuff, then told us to "get the f*ck out of here and if we ever see you again we'll kill you."
That was the first time I ever had a gun pointed at me. I still remember my heart sinking, time slowing, and the out of body experience. I was definitely paranoid from that point on and almost got jumped by another group of guys a few weeks later. I never told my parents because I didn't want them to worry. The walk home was never the same.
The 2nd time I was 19 and in college. I was a late night delivery driver and I got a call from a guy named Tony around midnight. He was placing an order but didn't know what he wanted or what we had. It wasn't the first time that happened but should've been a red flag. After finalizing the order I left for the delivery. It was in the ghetto but I've delivered there several times before.
When I get to the street, it's pitch black dark and I have a hard time finding the place. I park my car in the driveway of a place that looks like the right location and get out with the head lights on so I can see. I walk down this middle alley and then up the stairs to the second floor when I notice the windows are boarded up. I immediately know something isn't right. I hurry down the stairs toward my car when two guys with guns and full black gear from head to toe, faces covered in masks, jump out to cut me off. The alley is a dead end on the other side and they're between me and my car. I'm trapped. They set me up. I remember my body doing an abrupt shake when I saw them. I drop the food and one guy hits me and tells me to get on the ground. Almost whispering, he says, "don't make a sound or we'll kill you."
He rummages through my pockets while the other guy points the gun in my face. Then he goes through my car. During this time I contemplate what it's like to die. What I'll do if it comes to it. Mind racing and time seemingly not moving. In the ghetto. In the middle of the night. In an alley. By myself. In the pitch black dark (except my headlights). They can kill me and no one will even know.
After a few minutes (that seemed like an eternity) he comes over to me and says, "where's the money at?" I had $7 on me. I told him that's all I had. Then they both start to get angry and say, "man if you don't give us the money, we'll kill you." Then the other guy says, "man let's just shoot him."... he looks at me, waves his hand toward him as he walks to the corner and tells me to follow him....
I'm not going to take you through the entire altercation. I often think back to that situation and try to figure out how I convinced them to let me go. I somehow kept my cool and made myself human to them through calm conversation. They left. With $7, my phone, my wallet, my peace of mind. They didn't even take the food.
I got back in my car and I drove right by them as they were running away. I thought about running them over but they let me go so I did the same. But the most peculiar thing happened on the way back to work. An old lady, homeless and frail, came up to my car when I was stopped at a red light. She said she was hungry and did I have any food. I gave her the bounty of two sandwiches, two bags of chips, and two cookies.... I'll never forget the look in her eyes.
The third time was a year later. I had actually quit that delivery job a few months after the incident to focus on school, but I needed money so I got a similar job at a sister store nearby. It was a Wednesday night and was actually my last night on the job. I was about to start a new job more related to my field so I traded my Sunday shift for an earlier Wednesday shift to get a head start.
It was 4am and we were just about closed. My manager, a good buddy of mine, took out the garbage and came back in with a gun to his head. The guy was dressed in all black with a face mask, same as before, and was yelling wildly. He was definitely on some kind of drugs.
My first thought was this wasn't real. Then I had the all too familiar out of body experience and altered time. Fight or flight instincts kicked in. I stepped to the side where a wall covered me, but he didn't like that. He ran up to me and yelled, "get the f*ck on the ground!" I laid out like a bear rug and he put the gun to the back to my head and yelled to my boss, "you got 10 seconds to open the safe or I'm blowing this motherf*cker's brains out!"
Then he shoots him in the leg. I thought I was dead. "10!"..... "9!"..... "8!"..... my boss gets to the safe. He was taking forever. I thought about yelling at him to hurry up. But I remained silent. The guy would probably have shot me. Then I wondered what it was like to die, to get shot in the head. Then I told myself if he gets to one I'm not just going to sit here. Thinking. Thinking. Heart pounding.... "4!"..... "3!".....
He opens the safe and takes out the money. Then the guy gets up, points the gun at him, and tells him to carry the money to the back door. My boss, my friend, had to walk toward the guy, shot in the leg, with the gun pointed right at his face. Seconds later I hear a gunshot. I remember the smell and the smoke. "He's dead," I thought.
I look back and my boss is walking toward me. The guy just pulled the trigger by mistake when he went to run. That could've happened at any time but we made it. I can't express the relief I felt. My friend and I both survived.
The ironic part was that was the slowest night the store has ever had. $300 in the safe. Not to mention it was going to be my last late shift ever. And I traded somebody for it. That guy owes me. And I should get free sandwiches for life.
In addition to those traumatic experiences, I've witnessed shootouts up close (2 groups of guys literally shooting at each other 15 yards away). I saw someone shoot up a gas station when I was pumping gas. Not to mention the harassment by gangs and crews when I walked by. I grew up in a bad neighborhood lol.
I'm now 28. Years removed from those experiences. I'm married with a 3 year old son and I have a great job in a better neighborhood. The trauma hasn't affected my ability to succeed but it has affected my ability to be at peace. I'm borderline paranoid and I worry excessively about my family's safety when I'm not around. I have a fear of loss of control, I believe. I don't like to fly anymore for example. The list goes on.
4 months ago, my parents were in a serious car accident. They were rear ended by a semi truck that was driving 60 mph while they were stopped for traffic on the interstate. My father was killed and my mother was seriously injured. She's suffering from physical and emotional trauma and needs my support as well.
I don't want these experiences to affect my life or my ability to be there for my family. But it starts with me getting help. This is my first time seeking help. I've told the stories but not in the context of therapy. Any advice or guidance would be great!
Thanks for reading my long winded tale. It was cathartic to write.
