Substance Abuse: Percy the “PTSD” Platypus on Healing, Humor and the World’s Largest Ketchup Bottle
- Bruce Schutter
- 6 days ago
- 5 min read
I was halfway through my diet soda (and, let’s be honest, the second mini snack I swore I wasn’t going to eat) when I heard a familiar, gravelly voice from behind me.
“Bruce. We need to talk about ketchup.”
I froze mid-sip. There are very few situations in life where someone brings up ketchup with the seriousness of a military debrief — and most of them involve Percy the “PTSD” Platypus.
Sure enough, there he was — wearing aviator sunglasses, a worn camo jacket, and holding what looked like a souvenir bottle of ketchup the size of his bill.
“Percy,” I said cautiously, “please tell me you didn’t get into another condiment-related crisis.”
He smirked. “Not a crisis. A revelation.”
Percy the “PTSD” Platypus
Now, Percy isn’t your average platypus. He’s part philosopher, part veteran, part walking emotional landmine. He’s got PTSD, a dark sense of humor, and a tendency to treat alcohol like it’s emotional WD-40.
He’s also one of the core characters from my book Marvin the "Mental Health Warrior" Cat’s Road Trip, where each of my friends — Marvin, Doug, Andy, Samantha and Percy — tackle 12 different mental health challenges while visiting unique attractions across America.
And let me tell you, when Percy says “revelation,” you buckle up.
The Road Trip Stop from the Twilight Zone
“So there we were,” Percy said, “me, Marvin, Doug, Andy, and Samantha — five emotional challenged people in a van that smelled like beef jerky and regret. Marvin insisted we stop at the World’s Largest Bottle of Ketchup in Collinsville, Illinois.
His exact words were, ‘You can’t heal trauma without condiments.’ I still don’t know if he was being profound or just hungry.”
I chuckled. “Sounds about right for Marvin.”
“Yeah,” Percy nodded, “but I wasn’t laughing. I’d been white-knuckling it for weeks — fighting flashbacks, pushing down old memories, and trying not to drink about it. I figured if I ignored my emotions long enough, they’d get bored and move on.”
He sighed. “Spoiler alert: they didn’t.”
Condiment Confession
Percy told me how the group stood before the 170-foot-tall ketchup bottle like tourists visiting the Lincoln Memorial. Samantha took pictures, Andy worried it might explode and Doug just stared at it like it understood depression.
Then Marvin handed Percy a mini bottle of mustard. “To scale,” Marvin said.
Percy looked from the tiny mustard to the massive ketchup tower and muttered, “That’s me versus my emotions.”
Marvin blinked. “Whoa. That’s either really deep or really condimental.” Percy smirked. “For once, it was both.”
He explained how that moment cracked something open. “For years, Bruce, I treated my emotions like enemies. Happiness felt fake, anger felt dangerous, sadness felt weak — so I drowned them all in vodka. I thought I was numbing pain, but really, I was bottling it up. And buddy, when you bottle ketchup too long, pressure builds. Eventually, something’s gonna explode.”
My Own Reflection
I nodded, because I knew exactly what he meant. I’d been there myself — battling Bipolar, Alcoholism, Anxiety Disorders and PTSD from my years as an EMT during highs school and college. Those struggles left me feeling so powerless that I tried to end my life. But in that dark time, I discovered something life-changing: mental health is the key to overcoming any challenge.
That realization became the foundation of my Mental Health Warrior Program — a bold new SELF-HELP approach that puts YOU in charge — so you can take charge of your emotions, instead of letting emotions take charge of you.
And now, here was Percy, living proof that the lessons had stuck. “Go on,” I said. “What happened next?”
The Real Enemy Was Silence
Percy took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. “You know what’s worse than fear? Silence. I wasn’t just hiding from PTSD — I was hiding from myself. I didn’t want to feel shame or grief or even joy, because if I felt one thing, I’d have to feel everything. So I drank. Not to party, but to pause existence.
He paused. “You think hitting rock bottom means waking up in a ditch. For me, it was realizing I couldn’t remember the last time I felt anything real.”
I let that sit for a moment. Then he smiled, unexpectedly. “But that changed at the ketchup bottle.”
The Turning Point
He told me Marvin tossed him his Mental Health Warrior Challenge Coin and said, “Use it to feel, not to fight.”
“At first, I didn’t even know what that meant,” Percy admitted. “But later, while the others were off buying ketchup hats, I sat in the grass. I didn’t drink. I didn’t run. I just… sat. I felt the anger, the guilt, the grief. And for the first time in forever, I didn’t explode.”
He looked at me with that rare flicker of pride. “I thought feeling everything would destroy me. Turns out, feeling is living!”
Percy’s Three Lessons from the Road
Lesson One: Bottling Emotions Just Builds Pressure
Percy said, “Every emotion you ignore adds another ounce of pressure to your bottle. Eventually, it bursts — sometimes loud, sometimes quiet. But it always bursts.”
Action You Can Take:
When a strong emotion hits, don’t cork it. Write it down. Speak it out loud. Tell someone what you’re feeling before it becomes too heavy to hold.
Lesson Two: The Real Courage Is in Feeling, Not Fleeing
“I used to think bravery meant ignoring fear,” Percy said. “Turns out, it means feeling fear and showing up anyway — even if you’re shaking like Doug in a thunderstorm.”
Action You Can Take:
Next time you’re tempted to numb out — with alcohol, scrolling, food, or busyness — Pause. Breathe. Ask, “What’s really going on inside me right now?” That pause is power.
Lesson Three: Warriors Don’t Fight Alone
Percy grinned. “Marvin wouldn’t let me isolate. He made me talk, laugh, and even dance at a rest stop once. (Not pretty, but effective.) Turns out, the antidote to shame is connection.”
Action You Can Take:
Reach out today — one text, one call, one coffee with someone who gets it. Sharing your struggle doesn’t make you weak; it makes you human. And humans heal together.
Percy’s Final Reflection
As he stood to leave, Percy tossed me his ketchup bottle souvenir. “A reminder,” he said. “That you can’t bottle up life. You’ve gotta taste it — even when it stings.”
He started for the door, then turned back. “You know, Bruce, I still get triggered. I still have bad days. But I don’t drown them anymore. I face them.
And every time I do, I realize something… I’m still here. I’m still sober. And I’m still choosing to feel. Even if I’ll forever associate emotional growth with condiments.”
I laughed, and he added “Guess that makes me the world’s first emotionally mature platypus with a ketchup problem.”
He adjusted his jacket, gave me a half-salute, and headed for the door. “Next time,” he called over his shoulder, “I’ll share another story from Marvin the Mental Health Warrior Cat’s Road Trip.”
Wrap-Up
Percy’s story isn’t just about substance use — it’s about what happens when we stop hiding and start healing.
When you stop drowning your emotions and start embracing them, you reclaim your power.
When you stop numbing the pain, you make room for joy.
And when you share your story, you light the path for someone else.
So if you’re struggling, remember: you’re not alone — and you’re a Warrior.
Even when life feels bottled up and messy, you can still rise — one breath, one emotion and one ketchup-coated step at a time!
Bruce Schutter
Every day is a chance to choose strength — because YOU'RE IN CHARGE!
Comments