My Story - Restaurant Robbery

[Miander]

Hi everyone, it's been a while since I was last able to visit. I was pleased to see that the diary is up and running. I decided to post my story publicly because I want to share my experience with others that care enough to read about it and that understand the many sides of PTSD. I am now a mom of three girls, one of which is a 6 month old baby, so I won't be able to write everything at once, but that's what a diary is for, no? So, here it goes.

I think it was the year 1993...I had just turned 21 and was enjoying my life working as a waitress and partying the nights away. Believe it or not, I made good money and didn't have to be at work until 4 pm, and I took advantage of that! I loved the restaraunt I worked at, it was full of my friends, both employees and customers, life was good!

On Sunday night I was the last waitstaff working (I often worked double shifts and closing shifts) when a couple came in as I was about to close the doors. I had ordered my bloodymary already in anticipation of closing, and I could hear my bartended Alex mixing it expertly as I pondered serving them. It was five minutes until closing but I had no plans that night and didn't mind taking one more table. My bartender was still there, my busboy was there, the cooks were there and the new dishwasher was there too, it was his first night. I asked my manager Scott if it was ok to take them and he said sure, if I wanted to - so we were in business.

I lead them to the fourth of four tables leading from the door, directly in front of the windows, I think I remember it as being table 44 (I can't believe it was 13 years ago!)! I think I took and drink order and food order together after chatting them up a bit and my busboy Eric took them some still-hot chips and salsa (it still reminds me of this night every time I try to enjoy tortillia chips!). I decided to punch in the order on the machine in the kitchen so I could apologize to the cooks as I ordered. I was standing at the machine when I heard someone scream. As I look back, I think it was the female customer, but I was already going in to shock. As I left the kitchen to see what was going on, I saw a man jump over the partician that separated the dining area from the rest of the restaurant. When he did that, he knocked over one of the plants that sat on to of the partician, and I remember thinking, is he going to pick that up? The dirt on the carpet was like the Twilight Zone, it was never dirty - it looked so strange. The next thing i know, there is another man, yanking my bartender out of the bar. Alex is stammering and his hands are up and that's when I see the Mac - 10 to his head.

[Nam]

You are doing great. That was an awesome start. Amazing what things we remember the most, eh? Great job, and keep going!

[anthony]

Well done Miander... well done. A short part of the story, and I am sure your most likely running off the dial about now. Please remember, ensure you have read the information within the trauma diary forum, ensure you follow the guidelines to be kind to yourself, or this will impact you worst than it needs too.

Well done, keep going.

[Miander]

First off, thanks Nam for your words of encouragement and to Anthony - you are right as usual. It is not as bad as it used to get, I only find insomnia and an increased anxiety level are bothering me (still), minor flashbacks. Nothing like it used to be with the horrible night & day mares, crippling fear of everything so I couldn't leave my bed, difficulty breathing, etc. etc. Thank goodness time does help for some, me included.

Ok, back to work.
When I came out of the kitchen and saw Al with the gun to his head, I remember thinking, "why does that guy have a water gun in the restaurant, and why is he holding it to Al's head? Why is Al so scared?"...Things went in to slow motion and my hearing got fuzzy - I saw the couple being herded toward Al and his captor by yet another man. Then I heard the man with Al shout "where's the keys to the safe mother******?!" and Al said "I don't know what your talking about" in this really funny voice and the man cocked his hand with the gun back and brought it down across his face so hard, the blood ran bright red before his head went straight. I heard the woman scream and that's when I dropped to my knees and put my hands over my ears - humming a hysterical tune that I didn't recognize. My eyes were squeezed shut and I waited for the robbers to realize that I was there and that I had seen what they were doing and come for me. I think I stopped breathing and squished myself as small as I could get, every nerve screaming for me to run. I was in this crouched position when Al and his assailant pushed by me, into the kitchen. I involuntarily opened the eye closest to where they were passing and I saw drops of Al's blood mark their path; I swear I could smell his fear and the assailant's rage. I stifled the cry of hysteria that was trying to escape and took a quick breath, only to hold it so I could hear what was going on in the kitchen - directly behind me, separated by a swinging door.

Enough.

[veiled]

You are doing great. You deserve a break.

[anthony]

Miander... wow... well done. I can already imagine your intensity levels going up from just that. Take your time, please go steady and not over do it... you've done so well already

[Miander]

I was looking at my post and it struck me that the way I have been writing has been like I am writing a fiction novel, not like I am writing about my life (one of the main trauma events that happend to me). I don't know if this was my way of trying to protect myself or what, but it's weird.

My heart rate has been picking up just logging on the internet, I think getting this all down is effecting me more than I'd like to think. I'm here, so I may as well continue, but hopefully in a less narrated fashion.

So there I was, sitting in front of the door to the kitchen, crouched on my knees with my hands over my ears hodling my breath, straining to hear the nightmare that was unraveling behind me. I heard my manager Scott come out of the back office, I heard the tone of his voice change as he must have seen the blood on Al's face, the stranger holding him and the gun in his hand. I heard the gunmans voice demand the key to the safe again and I knew that this was escalating. I heard Scott tell him in a shaky voice "sure man, I'll give you the key, just don't hurt anyone, ok?". I don't know what happend next, all I could hear was the gunman yelling and then I heard rapid gunshots. I knew Scott had been shot because I heard him grunting when the bullet hit his kneck, then the grunts turned to moans of pain, disbelief and dispair. I am criing now because I really liked Scott, we spent alot of time together and we were friends, not just coworkers. I hate that I heard that come from him, it was the most awful noise I have ever heard.

[becvan]

Wow Miander!

You are much braver than I. I like how you are writing it. You aptely describe what was happening and exactly how you feel. That's great.

I was wondering, do you see this in third person mode? (as in you are watching yourself going through this but you are not there?) I'm just curious because that is how I see myself when I recall anything.

Bec

[Miander]

Hey Becvan - I am pretty sure that the third person viewing is a way to protect ourselves...It's weird but I guess it makes it easier to re-live. Thanks for your compliment, I have a tendency to bash myself to a pulp over everything I do, and I am doing a number on myself over this diary.

[Miander]

Ok. So after Scott was shot there was muffled comotion (the gunman was behind the kitchen, in the office) and then it happend, more gunshots and screams. I knew Al had been hit because I heard him when he yelled "oh god" in pain, but I didn't know at the time that our new dishwasher (his first night, father of four), had been shot too and was dying. The next thing I know, the door behind me bursts open and I hear the woman customer scream again - I had forgotten that there were other people around me, I had become so focused on the kitchen. The killer grabs me by my arm and yanks me to my unsteady feet and in a voice that sounds far away (even though it is painfully close) yells for everyone to get in the kitchen. I am so afraid that my feet won't obey me and I will feel the pain of the gun but I practically run into the kitchen to escape the killers grasp. As I enter the kitchen, I see Al and he is pale and holding his stomach. The blood on his head doesn't compare to the blood that I now see on the floor. There is a terrible mess of crunched up tortillia chips mixed in the pool of blood that surrounds Scotts body, the sight of it horrified me so badly, I looked away before I knew if he was still moving or not.

I'm done for now, I think the hardest part of the whole experience for me was when I saw Scott and I knew that he was going to die. I still live with the guilt that I didn't help him, that I didn't drop to the floor and make his last moments filled with love and comfort, instead I let him lie on the filthy floor in his own blood and chips, choking on his fear and knowledge of death.

[wildfirewildone]

:claps: You may not believe this.....I believe strongly that inside you somewhere there is a pool of courage!!! During your trauma event the feeling of the robber seemed far away as your body was disassociating from the absolute terror of the situation...it was protecting itself so you could function [ and you did by getting in the kitchen:thumbs-up ] Please don't beat yourself up because you didn't comfort your co-worker as he lay dying....your body was in shock!!!....You did the best that you could in that terrifying situation!!! You don't have to "punish" :hit-boss: yourself by putting yourself down that you weren't comforting him....I would suggest some deep breathing when these non-helpful thoughts pester you....I know with the death of my Uncle Glen...I was questioning myself with the "ifs"....and the "dids" [ Did he know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I loved him and other similiar thoughts ] I know I can't change the past but that's sometimes hard to let go of those thoughts...so I learned in a PHP to "let myself off the hook"!!! You are on your way to healing by sharing your trauma and pain!!! :kickass:
......wildfirewildone......KEEPING THE PEACE

[veiled]

You are doing great, just don't push yourself to hard. You are going to relive as you write a read. Take it slow and it will all come out. My heart goes out to you and all of you in my prayers. Like WF said you went on instinct, fight or flight... That is how you got stuck with this nasty condition, that was triggered and it gets "stuck". You had no control... You are alive for a reason, we have this for a reason, they were called back home for a reason. We may not know why yet, but there has to be a reason. That is what keeps me going. One day I will see the big picture, I just do not yet. I liken it to murals I used to paint. Standing close you never could tell what they were of, it looked messy. As I painted I knew what I was painting but could not see it as I was so close to it. Once I finished and stood way back a scerene backdrop was before me and all the mess came into a beautiful picture, all the mess I saw up close was all of a sudden a very different thing once I got through with it and was able to step back and look.

Sorry, if I don't make sense, I am not feeling well put together tonight.

[Nam]

Makes sense to me veiled.

Miander, you are doing awesome. Be very good to yourself in the next few days. Take breaks, spoil yourself some. And, the narrative is just fine. You're getting it out....don't worry about what it sounds like. I'm just glad that it is flowing from your mind and heart down through your fingers onto the screen. You are doing great....

[anthony]

Miander, did you know that you actually have no control over fight, flight or freeze within your body? The adrenal gland sits atop of our kidneys, and pumps either adrenaline or noradrenaline directly into our kidneys. The adrenaline gives us the hyperalertness for fight and flight. The noradrenaline sends our bodies into the freeze motion. Our nervous system controls the adrenal gland, and without control what so ever from ourselves, our body takes over before we get a chance to respond ourselves.

What happened to you in regard to freezing within the situation, is your adrenal gland automatically pumped noradrenalin into your kidneys, which makes people have little, to no control over their movements or being. Some people say they go into slow motion, where everything around them is like watching a slow motion replay, others get an overwhelming freeze response, where movement is limited, if not completely restricted to nothing at all.

You see, nothing you could or could not have done, actually has no impact onto you yourself, because your nervous system told your adrenal gland to pump noradrenalin into your kidneys to make you freeze. The body does this under certain conditions to protect itself. Yes, we do have a self protection system built into us, and this is it. Fight, flight or freeze.

The same is said when adrenalin is pumped directly into the kidneys, where people who are injured badly can suddenly walk long distances to get themselves help, or provide increased energy burst and pain management to fight for survival, and so the list goes on.

What you need to know though Miander, and please remember this, you had no control over your freeze motion, and I mean no control. Your body took over for self protection, and your body made the right decision, because here you are to talk about it.

[Miander]

Anthony - now that my shuddering cries have reduced themselves to adrippy snivel, I am composing a reply to your post. After I read what you wrote, I found myself in hysterical sobs, so unexpected and all-consuming. I know that as I have been doing this diary and reading other peoples posts I have become more sensitized, but I never would have imagined the impact of your words. I thought that my guilt over Scott's lonely passing had subsided, but in reality it had only been pushed far down inside me...I want you to know how much your clinical explanation helped lift some of the weight I didn't realize I was continuing to carry. Thank you so much for that - I know there are so many people that you have helped in this way and continue to help. In my eyes, that makes you a Saint (I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable, just take it as a compliment).

[anthony]

Compliment accepted... and thank you. Many people feel guilt associated to fight, flight or freeze, and carry that guilt because they think they could have done something differently if only they thought about it and so forth; when in actual fact, they had little to no control over what their body was going to do at all... they just don't realise it, hence why people carry that burden of guilt with them until they know the actual facts of what their body did to them without their cognitive input or decision making. The decision was made sub-conciously by the brain, without any further input.

[Miander]

I guess I froze as I entered the kitchen and saw Scott and Al because after I asked Al if he was ok, I felt the sharp stab of a gun barrel shoved in my back and a loud, angry voice telling me to move on bitch. I edged forward to make room for the two customers, my busboy and the other two gunmen. I think I was afraid of touching Al, like if I did, I would get shot too (more guilt). We were all herded into the huge walk-in refridgerator, where we all turned to face our killers. The large door was slammed in our faces and all we could hear was the moans of pain from Al (who was now on the floor of the fridge), our own stiffled breaths of terror, and the fan from the fridge. My busboy was busy behind me, when I turned to look, I saw that he had moved big buckets of salsa from the shelf and was crawling to the back of a shelf. It was so surreal watching him do that, I don't think he would have heard me if I had said his name. Suddenly, the door opened

[Miander]

and I think I stopped breathing. I remember squeezing my eyes shut and waiting for the bullets to come. Instead I felt a large warm body and I grabbed it and put it between myself and the door. That is also a huge guilt trip for me, I know I put that person between myself and the door because I thought his body would protect me from the bullets I was waiting for. It was one of our cooks, Anthony, and he let me do it. He just stood there and whispered comforting words to me as I gripped his body with every ouce of strength I had left - comforting me as I held him in harms way.

[Nam]

Miander, you did not hold him in harms way. The gunmen put everyone in harms way. It was not you, it was them.

[anthony]

Nam hit it on the head Miander. The gunmen are the only one's who put anyone in harms way. Any person within the presence of them was in harms way.

If the gunmen wanted to kill you all, they would have. Nothing you could or could not have done would have changed that if they had already established this before entering the restaurant. You lived because you posed no immediate risk to those holding the gun.

[Miander]

It wasn't until much later that I found out what had happend, as we waited to die in the fridge. As the crooks were going through the safe, one of them had decided to look around the kitchen a little more. That is when he saw the two cooks that were hiding behind the line. I guess he tried to spray them with bullets, but his gun jammed. That's when he pistol whipped them and threw them into the fridge with the rest of us.

I have no idea how long we all were in there. Al was on the floor of the fridge with his head in the woman customer's lap, slowly fading. I can't remember who initiated it, but we all decided that they must have left and we had to get help for Al. I don't remember much except for running to the office, seeing the havoc there and trying not to touch anything except the phone. The 911 operator's voice sounded shocked as she repeated the info I somehow managed to relay to her, I know my hand gripped the phone like steel and when I saw the police round the corner with their guns drawn and my own fear mirrored on their faces, I realized that it was finally over.

They made me walk by Scott's body again to exit the kitchen. The pool of blood hide widened so much, I knew he had bled to death as we cowered in the fridge. The coroner was already there, zipping his body into a bag with no ceremony, no tenderness. The sight of this resonates in my head even now.

As we walked past the bar, I saw my drink sitting on the still - condensation made a pool of water around the glass's base, Al was not in pain when he made that for me, how long had it been sitting there? I grabbed that drink and brought it with me to the table where the detectives interviewed me for an hour straight. I don't remember calling my coworker, but there she was, behind the yellow tape that encircled the front door now, calling my name with tears in her eyes.

[anthony]

You did great Miander, because your alive. The human mind is not made to encompass or suffer these type of life stresses without damage. Your reaction now is a normal one too an abnormal stressor.

[Miander]

I hope you don't take offense to me adressing you by your initials, but your name is long and my time is short :rolleyes: Thanks for your post and welcome to the forum! It is really hard getting this stuff down, but I've found for me personally, it's like getting a huge weight off my shoulders. It's also nice to do it here because there are so many people that can relate to me and my PTSD - I feel safe telling it like it is. I hope to see more posts from you, you seem very sensitive and caring.

Anthony - thanks for your input too. You have this great way of stating things in a factual manner that is calming. I was wondering: I have had some other traumas that have been bothering me...If I decide to post them, should I do that on this thread or do I start a new one?

[anthony]

Miander, your welcome. Tack them on here, or you can put them within the private trauma diary if you don't want the public seeing them, or use the PTSD only group, so only those with PTSD can see and provide you feedback.

But yes, if your going to just post them publicly, just continue on with this one, keeps it easy for everyone with only one... nice and central for easy reference.

[Terry]

Miander, Iv'e seen too many crime scenes like the one you describe. I too seem to describe them like I was reading out of a book. Anthony's hit the "Fight, Flight'Freeze" right on the numbers. I've seen seasoned police vets run away, freeze or jump right into the fight and wonder later why they did it. I think your doing great and your right Anthony knows his stuff.

[Miander]

It has been a while since I have been to this diary. I know it is because I am so tempted to continue to fill it with all the terrible traumas I need to let go of. I chose the title for this entry because today at Easter I saw my parents and we all had a family Easter brunch. I really love to see my parents with my girls, it makes me feel really good - almost happy. That is, until I think about how they have continually failed to support me emotionally. After the shooting happend and I forgot how to take care of myself, my parents wouldn't let me move back home. I remember when it happend vividly (unlike most event of this time), and it still fills me with dispair. Could you imagine loosing a good friend in a terrible thing like a triple shooting and going into full blown PTSD and reaching out to your own mother for help, only to have her tell you sorry, we just don't have room in our mansion for you??? Family get togethers always lead to me thinking about that and then I get really pissed and depressed and why the f*** do I still so desperately want them in our lives?!

[anthony]

Why? Because blood is thicker than water, thats about why. Its easy to cut of friends (water), not so easy to just forget family (blood). People sometimes think that just cutting family off is the answer, to only find that they then suffer more emotional pain and turmoil for their actions to removing family from their life. Talking is often the answer, though that requires two people, an active discussion, and keep yelling out, and respect one anothers opinions.

[Miander]

I've been trying to reach out to people in different ways recently and one of those ways has lead me to my old boarding school (high school, freshman year). I was such a troubled child that my parents sent me to boarding school for my freshman year of high school. What a mixed bag that was. Part of me felt abandonded and alone but another part saw it as a great opportunity to meet new people, start fresh in a new state. I think for a lot of people who go to boarding school, it ends up being a life forming time and you really make some of the best friends you will ever have. I know for me it was that, but it was also so much more. My first traumatic event that wasn't family related happend there, which eventually ended in me being hospitalized. I was 13 when I started my freshman year, realtively inexperienced with drugs and sex, but I considered myself to be a vetran at both. I remember the very first night I ended up chugging Everclear straight from a bottle to impress my new friends/roommates - what a mistake that was! For those of you who may ot know this, Everclear is grain alcohol, I believe it is 191 proof (it has been I while since I have enjoyed this particular spirit), and it caused me to hyperventilate! Not a good thing when you're on school grounds, breaking curfew with a bottle of grain alcohol! Needless to say, almost every night was spent chasing one high or another.

[Miander]

I recently returned from San Diego, we were at a family reunion (my husband's side) and I had a breakdown. First let me say that traveling with three small children is no small feat, especially flying. Even though it was a short flight, I have anxiety issues about flying and I also worry about the germs, I am such a freak about everything! Anyway, we didn't die in a fiery inferno and nobody highjacked the plane. We all had to get up at 4 am to catch our fight, after falling asleep somewhere around 1:30 am, couldn't sleep because I couldn't stop thinking about the trip. So even though it was "uneventful", I was exhuasted by the time we reached the house we were going to stay for the four days we were there. That night, we had a formal dinner to go to, along with around 250 other people. The dinner was at a Naval Base, next to the air strip, so every time a jet took off, I was freaking ducking - I must have looked so funny. I don't do well in social situations, even when it's with people I know. This, was pure panic for me. Thank goodness I had a baby to cling to because otherwise, I know I would have ran out the door, much to everyone's indifference. The funny thing about my PTSD is it seems to give me audio hallucinations. I think I hear things that are probably not being said, trouble is, no one else hears it so how can I prove otherwise. There was also a picture booth set up so everyone could take photos. Great for people who aren't freaking out on the inside and feeling like an alien and everyone is staring at and talking about. I am so scared that in the family photos I am going to look like the psycho I feel like - ****! Don't even get me started on the BBQ the next day!

[anthony]

Miander, you have found all your negatives from your trip... what about the positives?

[Miander]

Anthony - you are so right. I am ashamed that's all I wrote about but it was so hard for me and I had to get it out to people that understand. There were lots of positives, the primary one being that my girls got to spend so much time with family other than just me and my husband. They also got a lot more freedom than they normally do!

[anthony]

Maybe you should look at listing them all for nothing more than yourself, and learn from this that in the future to look at your positives vs. negatives, not just negatives alone which are depressing all by themselves. Well done though.

[Miander]

I found oout on October 11th that an old, good friend of mine was run over repeatedly on hwy 880 in Hayward, Ca. News reports that over 80 people called in with mysterious blood, tissue and hair on their cars. I've been having a really hard time with getting the image of his body being ripped appart and nobody stopping to help. I loved this man as one of my closest friends before my married life and now I am having such a hard time in my life now, because of what happend to him. What a horrible way to die, I just can't get it out of my head. He was the first person I knew with PTSD.

[becvan]

I'm so sorry Miander.

bec

[Miander]

I found out today that his brother finally claimed his remains on Monday and had him cremated, ashes scattered to the wind. 5 days after his terrible accident.

sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/10/13/BAVMSP3JN.DTL&hw=880+body&sn=002&sc=292

[Miander]

Dave's memorial is tomorrow and I'm haveing MAJOR anxiety about it. The only friend I have left from that particular group of friends is going with me, I wouldn't be able to go alone. I am afraid this guy (that Dave told me stabbed him because Dave was protecting me) might be there...It has been so long since I have seen most of these people and I know there's going to be a huge group. I almost feel like packing my husband's 40 to feel safe, but I never carry in public. I am trying to be brave but so many thoughts have been racing through my head, no sleep, no appitite...I know some of the people that ran over his body and helped decapitate him are going to be there, I just want to go to sleep.