Trauma stories: When a zebra got stuck in my bathtub
Danny Greeves
Helping athletes break through performance barriers with nonverbal behaviour analysis and nonconscious mental imagery.
I'll never forget the day - it was the third Thursday in June 2015. I came home after a tough day at work, dropped my bag in the living room and headed to the bathroom - nature was calling. I walked into the bathroom and there it was...
A Zebra.
To say I was shocked is an understatement.
I'd heard other people on the news talking about zebras appearing in people's bathtubs. But I didn't really know much about it and it had certainly never happened to me before. I remember seeing a doctor on a health channel talking about it. I vaguely remember National Zebra in the bathtub day, but as it didn't apply to me at the time I didn't pay much attention.
But here I was, with a zebra in my bathtub.
I felt alone, it was just me and the zebra and I had no idea what to do. I felt like it shouldn't happen to me, I felt a little embarrassed and I just wished it didn't happen to me.
The zebra was scary, mainly because I didn't understand why it was there. I just wanted to know how to get rid of it. I kept asking myself...
Why was it here?
Why did it happen to me?
Why? Why? Why?
I did what most people do, I went to bed and hoped things would be better in the morning.
I woke up and nervously listened for any signs of the zebra in the bathtub. I couldn't hear anything. Maybe it was gone?
I tentatively walked downstairs and stepped into the bathroom.
BAM!
Zebra.
Immediately my head dropped into my hands.
One of the things I love to do is have a nice, long, hot shower. But I couldn't even do that anymore.
Hell... I couldn't even have a poo in peace.
I eventually decided I needed to get some help. I first went to see my GP.
My GP was lovely, very welcoming, supportive and showed genuine empathy for my predicament. The problem was I only had seven minutes because she had 40 more patients to see before lunch. As nice as she was, she did the only thing she could, she gave me some antidepressants.
So I took them.
I went home, saw the zebra - and didn't feel anything. But that was the problem, I didn't feel ANYTHING. I was just numb. The zebra didn't seem to bother me as much, but I started having negative, intrusive thoughts, I couldn't sleep, and my memory was foggy. But the zebra was still there.
I decided to stop taking the antidepressants. The GP then said antidepressants are a minimum 6-12 month commitment.
YIKES.
Next I called a counsellor.
The counsellor was lovely, they lent me a listening ear, let me vent, and listened to me. They asked me the story of what happened that day. They asked me to share my feelings, asked me what was going through my mind when I saw the zebra and listened to me talk as much as I wanted about the zebra. It was uncomfortable to share the details of my story and quite horrible to relive it. But I did feel a release at the end of the session.
That is until I went home...
Because I still had a bloody zebra in my bathtub.
So the next day I called in the big guns. I called in a psychiatrist.
They spent hours measuring the zebra's height, weight, stripe length, stripe width, hoof size, tail length and eye colour. The psychiatrist looked up at me and said "Good news. The diagnosis is you have a 'Grévy zebra' in your bathtub. It's really quite common."
Confused I replied, "We've spent all this time checking out symptoms and all I now know is an official title - a label, a diagnosis - for the problem I have? The bloody zebra is still there."
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"That's correct - but we have some medication that can help..."
"No thank you." That was the end of that.
Next, I went to see a Cognitive Behavioural Therapist (CBT). This actually did help. I learned how I could soften the impact of having a zebra in my bathtub. I learned how I could still have a warm shower, I just needed to squeeze in next to the zebra. I realised I could learn to live with the zebra. It wouldn't be ideal. But I could live with it.
I got taught techniques like how to journal when I had a bad day because of the zebra. I learned how to breathe through the discomfort when I couldn't have a poo in peace. I was taught how to reframe the problem - many people would love to have some company at home - maybe it was a good thing to have a zebra in my bathtub?
I tried this for several months. But every morning I would come down the stairs, and the zebra would still be there. Sometimes it was in a good mood, sometimes a bad mood. My emotions were very up and down.
I then went and joined a support group. I joined the 'Zebra Bathtub Alliance". This was so helpful, to begin with. I got to meet with and speak to all the other people who had zebras in their bathtubs. I felt a sense of understanding, support and comfort.
But after a while I realised, some people had been in this group for decades, and their zebras black stripes had even started to turn grey! As helpful as the support group was at the beginning of my journey, now it just seemed to be full of more and more people with the same problem as me.
I plucked up the courage to post it on social media - turns out lots of people were struggling too. The hashtag #meandmyzebra went viral. People were becoming more open and honest about sharing their zebra experiences.
It was okay to not be okay with a zebra in the bathtub.
It was such a relief to know other people were feeling the same way. The culture around zebras was changing. It was a hugely positive step forward. Buy it was then I came across a significant - and uncomfortable - realisation...
There were millions of people with zebras in their bathtubs.
There were millions of people struggling with zebras.
There were millions of people numbing, venting or coping with zebras in their bathtubs.
Despite all this, when I went to sit down and have a poo, I still had a zebra in my bathtub.
Then on a Friday afternoon in 2018, I stumbled across someone through a friend's recommendation.
I booked in online and thought, let's give it another go. After our normal meet and greet, I asked him "What do you do?"
"I help remove zebras from bathtubs," he said.
BINGO.
We spent the next hour learning what types of things cause zebras to come into bathtubs. We learned how a zebra thinks and works. We learned if something outside of our control happens which causes a zebra to appear in your bathtub, how to help it leave quietly and peacefully.
We then worked together and something amazing happened...
I helped the zebra to leave the bathtub. We guided it outside where it was free and it soon disappeared into the distance.
He then taught me how to protect against zebras, what to do if a zebra foal comes near you, and how to build such resilience to zebras that they tend to stay away from you. As well as sharing with me that if a zebra did come along again, as life can throw us some surprises, I had somewhere I could go to get help.
Later that day I decided to re-train. I re-trained and became an official zebra remover.
I now spend my time helping people remove zebras from their bathtubs.
And best of all?
I can now have a poo in peace.
If you have enjoyed this little story and you would love to see fewer zebras in bathtubs around the world, please comment below with #freethezebras
Image source: Cr-ai-yon A.I
Story inspiration: metaphor first heard at a personal development seminar several years ago.
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