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Navigating the Impact of Being a First Responder

Posted on by First Responder Project
09
Aug

A Journey of Strength and Resilience

Being a first responder is a calling that requires a heart that beats for service and a spirit that thrives on courage. It’s about running toward chaos when others instinctively step back, about embodying strength in moments of vulnerability, and about writing stories of heroism in the pages of everyday life. A first responder is a beacon of hope, a steadfast guardian of safety, and a symbol of unwavering dedication to the well-being of others. However, this noble path comes with profound and complex effects that evolve over time, both on a personal and professional level.

The physical demands of the job, such as lifting heavy equipment, navigating challenging terrain, and responding to emergencies in all weather conditions, can take a toll on a first responder’s body over time. Long hours and irregular shifts can disrupt sleep patterns, leading to fatigue and potential health issues. But even as the body weathers the challenges, the emotional toll can be equally impactful. First responders frequently encounter distressing and emotionally charged situations, and the cumulative effect of witnessing accidents, injuries, and tragic events can lead to emotional exhaustion, compassion fatigue, and burnout. The emotional strain may manifest as a sense of desensitization, detachment, or increased irritability.

Over time, exposure to traumatic incidents can impact a first responder’s mental health and resilience. Conditions like post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), anxiety, and depression may develop or worsen. Coping mechanisms may evolve, and some individuals may struggle to find healthy ways to process their emotions. The demands of the job can also affect personal relationships. Irregular schedules, long hours, and the emotional toll of their work can strain relationships with family, friends, and partners. Communication challenges and difficulties in sharing their experiences can lead to feelings of isolation.

Despite the challenges, the job provides a strong sense of purpose and fulfillment. Many first responders find deep satisfaction in helping others during their most vulnerable moments. However, this sense of purpose can sometimes become entangled with personal identity, making it challenging to transition away from the role. As time passes, some first responders may choose to leave the profession due to the cumulative effects of the job on their physical and mental well-being. Others may find ways to adapt, seeking support through peer networks, counseling, or stress management techniques to sustain their careers and overall well-being.

Understanding the evolving impact of being a first responder is crucial for promoting the well-being and resilience of these dedicated individuals. By providing adequate mental health support, access to counseling services, and opportunities for debriefing, we can ensure that our heroes continue to navigate their journey with strength, courage, and the unwavering spirit that defines their noble path.

First Responders, Journal

When I Put on My Uniform

Posted on by First Responder Project
Police in Uniform
27
May

By Oscar Velez

There is little doubt times are hard for law enforcement officers. But every day, I find more reasons to do this job. To show up. To be present.

There are a lot of perks when you look in the right places. The hug you get from a senior citizen after changing a flat tire on a highway. The smiles of kids when they see your insignias sparkling. The sigh of relief from a parent after you find their missing child. The smile you get from a homeless man when you bring him a burger and a drink. Rescuing a lost puppy wandering the streets. Reaching out to someone in the middle of a crisis. Laughter from a group of kids after you stop to shoot some hoops with them for a few minutes. Saving a life.

When I put on my uniform, I don’t think about who hates me, calls me names, or slanders me. I don’t care that some people will look at me with hate, resentment, suspicion, or distrust. I know it’s possible someone might hurt or even kill me. I have looked into a man’s hateful eyes while he pointed a gun at me. By no means a good feeling.

Some days the hours are long. The calls are endless. I am seldom home for the holidays. I have missed many of my kids’ birthdays. I lost my marriage. Many times I felt things could not get any worse. Tragedy never seems to end. I have seen the worst of the worst in people. The things people do to themselves and each other is sometimes indescribable. Humanity seems to slip away right from our very own grasp.

Then I think of the smiles, the hugs, the kids, the puppy, the homeless man, the person in crisis, the street basketball game, the life saved. I may not make life better for everyone, but I go home every day knowing that I made life better for at least one person.

I have had many jobs in my lifetime. I have worn other uniforms. But none of them have been as rewarding to me, and with as many perks, as when I wear this uniform. And I am grateful every day for the privilege of wearing this uniform. I would not change it for anything.

I am not oblivious to the fact that this job changes you. You can not invest as much time and energy on something and not be somewhat influenced by it. While I realize everyone’s experience is different, this is how being in law enforcement has been for me.

If you find yourself in a fog, if things no longer make sense, or if you feel humanity starting to slip away from you, reach out to someone. There is help.

First Responders, Other Articles

First Responder Suicide Prevention: What We Need to Know!

Posted on by First Responder Project
Suicide Prevention
20
May

By Dr. Lisa Grossman

It’s a painfully difficult topic, yet, the reality of this line of work that we have to talk about. It’s the topic that seems to have touched everyone in some way, shape, or form.  It’s suicide, and it’s on the rise among first responders. 

The Numbers

Over the years, we have seen a steady increase in the number of suicides across this country among our first responders. BLUE H.E.L.P. is an organization that brings awareness to suicide and mental health issues, and has been recording law enforcement suicides, including corrections and federal officers, since January 2016. In 2019, 238 law enforcement officers were lost to suicide, 171 in 2020, and there have been 35 to date in 2021. In addition to their efforts with the law enforcement community, they have now expanded to include firefighters through RED H.E.L.P. with the same mission of education, support, and acknowledgment. Although they just began their efforts, they have reported two firefighters lost to suicide to date for 2021.

While numbers vary among sources, according to the Firefighter Behavioral Health Alliance, 82 firefighters and 21 EMTs/paramedics were lost to suicide in 2018, and 119 firefighters and 20 EMTs/paramedics in 2019. In addition to those disciplines, the veteran suicide rate continues to rise along with active-duty service members. Although there is a two-year lag in reporting data, the VA has reported the rate has gone from 17.5 veterans a day in 2017 to 17.6 in 2018, with concerns that the number may tick higher as we work our way through the impact of the coronavirus. 

How Does Someone Get to That Point?

One of the most common questions I get asked is, “how does someone get to that point,” the place where they see no other option. Sadly, it’s often a combination of things. The brain is not wired to see and do the things that these men and women have to see and do on a daily basis. But, they do it and do it proudly. They respond to the horrific calls, the tragic scenes, and hug the family members left in despair, all while navigating their own struggles and challenges. Sadly, the burden of it all becomes too heavy to continue to carry and some can’t pull themselves from the darkest of places. The intention is not to hurt their loved ones, colleagues, or friends, but the pain becomes too great, and they are unable to see through it.

Many risk factors have been linked to first responder suicides, including Post Traumatic Stress (and other mental health challenges such as depression and anxiety), health concerns, marital problems, substance abuse, and financial challenges. The combination of these with the trauma they are exposed to on a regular basis can have a lasting and devastating impact on one’s psyche over time if they don’t get the help and resources they need. 

What to Watch For

While most people who struggle with depression don’t die by suicide, depression can increase the risk of suicide. It is important to know the signs of depression and other mental health-related conditions that could potentially lead someone down that path. Some of the big indicators someone is dealing with depression are not being able to get out of bed and having difficulties sleeping, struggling with feelings of hopelessness or worthlessness, shutting down, loss of appetite, and drastic changes in mood. In addition, it is also helpful to know the signs and symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder as it can co-occur with depression and is quite common among first responders. Nightmares, flashbacks, and hypervigilance are all common characteristics of PTSD, but it is important to point out that just because someone has experienced these symptoms doesn’t mean they have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It is important to see a mental health professional for a proper diagnosis. 

In addition to the signs and symptoms of related mental health conditions, there are also indicators that someone may be contemplating suicide. Talking about going away or making statements like “you’d be better off without me” or “I’m a burden to our family,” saying goodbye, increasing the use of alcohol or drugs, having a sudden change in behavior such as improved mood or happiness quickly after signs of depression or sadness, engaging in reckless behavior, becoming withdrawn, and having a history of previous attempts, can be experienced by those who are thinking about suicide. 

What Can You Do?

Though some of the signs may be there, sometimes it’s difficult to catch these in those closest to us. It is for this reason that I stress to people to listen to their gut. If ‘something’ is telling you there may be a problem and you’re concerned, it is imperative to take action! If you see warning signs or get that feeling, ask the difficult questions and explore invitations. The statement I use when teaching suicide prevention and intervention is to be comfortable being uncomfortable. It may be hard to ask someone you work with, love, or care about if they are thinking about suicide, but those tough questions need to be asked.

If you think or feel someone may be contemplating suicide, directly ask them, “are you thinking about suicide.” If they say yes, ask them, “do you have a plan” and “when was the last time you thought about it.” If they are responding with a yes, be there to support and listen and connect them to the right resources; you can call the National Suicide Hotline (800-273-8255) with them or one of the other numbers provided below, reach out to their mental health professional if they are working with one, or take them to the nearest hospital. Some facilities now have policies and procedures in place to assist a first responder in crisis, including a separate area to wait while getting evaluated. The important thing is to get help, and don’t try to handle the situation alone! Encourage and support the appropriate help and give reassurance. 

Sadly, the stigma around mental health and suicide is the top reason first responders don’t get the help they need. They are worried they will lose their job or position, be labeled, or may be be afraid others will view them as weak. It takes strength to ask for help, and getting help does not equal mental illness. It is imperative that we change the conversation around mental health and talk about topics like suicide more openly. At the end of the day, it’s ok not to be ok! 

If you or someone you know is struggling with thoughts of suicide, PLEASE reach out!
National Suicide Hotline 800-273-8255
Copline: 800-267-5463
Fire/EMS Helpline: 888-731-3473
Crisis Text Line: Text “Blue” to 741741
Veterans Crisis Line: 800-273-8255; press 1 for Veterans Crisis Line or Text 838255

First Responders, Other Articles

The Strength of Vulnerability

Posted on by First Responder Project
The Strength of Vulnerability
18
May

By Susie Kroll

I am so sorry for your loss. | Yes, we found your son; he wandered about a mile away. | I’m sorry that they stole $20,000.00 from your retirement accounts. | Your daughter is being placed in protective custody due to severe child neglect. Yes, we will make sure to check on your wife since she has been expressing being suicidal.| Radio, he is unresponsive; start aid; the suspect stabbed him in the abdomen. Last seen running southbound.| I’m sorry, honey. Mommy won’t be home for the holidays this year; I have to work. I know, son; I am sorry I keep missing your baseball games.| You can’t come within 1,000 feet of the residence for three years. You’re under arrest for the perpetration of domestic violence; you can’t punch her until she is unconscious.| We recovered your car, but it’s been stripped of everything of value. | Look, this isn’t working out between us.| You don’t get it; it’s just a few drinks. Get off my back. | I forgot our anniversary again; there’s just too much going on. Sweetie, I am going to be home late again. I know. I’m sorry; it’s been like this for weeks now.| My partner didn’t survive the gunshot wound; it’s been ten years, but it feels like yesterday in my mind. I should have gotten there faster.|  Honey, I gotta go. There’s a call out for a barricaded and suicidal subject with hostages.  

Honey, how was your day?  Fine.

We have all heard stories, seen headlines, and watched shows related to police work.  Images are conjured in our minds from books, media, and our imaginations.  Yet, there are people who live it daily, see it daily, and carry the memories and experiences with them forever.  Often, the impacts of these experiences are not immediately felt but erosive in nature over the course of a career as a first responder.  Messaging to first responders has evolved over the last few decades.  Initially, an emphasis was placed on being a warrior, a keeper of the peace, and being the one who would, above all, serve and protect the community without weakness.  Recently, emphasis has been placed on being a guardian of communities, safety, and holistic policing.  With this evolution must come the expectation that vulnerability is not weakness but rather the ultimate expression of strength.

Compassion and humanity in first responders should be a pillar of cognition and integration in how first responders care-take themselves.  After all, we cannot hope to be the calm and safety on the worst day of someone else’s life if we cannot first make sure that we are healthy and resilient in our own care.  

As a model for the advancement in the principles of self-care and resiliency for first responders, offered for consideration are a couple of stories from those that have paved the way to thriving in the strength of vulnerability.

Officer Drake* is an incredible police officer and a 20-year veteran of the work.  He has seen his fair share of danger, tragedy, crime, loss, and community engagement throughout his career.  Officer Drake is a family man, a devoted husband, and engaged readily in ancillary duties in police work in addition to his regular patrol duties.  He is someone that his peers have sought out because of his steadfast compassion and fierce loyalty to his family and work.  Officer Drake found himself faced with a cluster of life stressors all happening at once.  His wife was suffering from complications of a brain tumor that was inoperable but not terminal in nature.  Without warning, she served him with divorce papers.

Community, global perspectives, internal department changes, and politics surrounding police were becoming increasingly volatile.  And he was having to face the reactions of his family, friends, and children as they reacted to the impending divorce. To say he was blind-sided is an understatement.  He was a committed husband now facing the onset of a mental illness in his wife of almost two decades.

Officer Drake had reached his limit to care for himself, and his capacity was being challenged minute-to-minute.  His wife refused to speak about the divorce and accused him of many things to which he was not guilty.  Due to her mental health diagnoses, she could not be reasoned with or counseled to participate in couples or individual therapy.  Officer Drake reached out to a local Mental Health Professional (MHP) whom he had heard about through other officers.  For weeks, he would talk with her about feeling helpless, powerless, and utterly confused by the circumstances of the divorce.

He was having to balance the procedural aspects of divorce while reconciling the emotional loss and pain he was feeling at the same time.  It was clear that these two paths of events did not respect the needs of the other and took on a life of their own.  They were further complicated by the fact that he had to continue to work to support his children, the mounting medical bills, and now the impending separation and divorce from the love of his life.  Officer Drake resigned himself to her demands and requests.  While he disagreed with her recollections and choices, for the sake of his children and out of his continued love for his wife, he agreed to the divorce.  This challenged his faith, his memories of their relationship, and his utter rejection of the idea of divorcing the only woman he ever truly loved and still does.

After working with the MHP for several months, he was able to mourn the loss of his marriage.  He found strength in laying his feelings on the table, being honest with himself, feeling the pain in a safe environment, and challenging himself to see love differently.  He learned he still loved his wife; he grieved the marriage but could love her still by taking care of himself and his children.  He never anticipated having to become this strong emotionally, but he met the burden with honesty and vulnerability, which evolved into the resiliency of and for himself and strength he didn’t know he possessed.   

Officer Sykes* is a 15-year veteran of law enforcement.  She has held many positions during her career.  She worked successfully with a hostage negotiation team, trained police officers on how to drive patrol cars safely, running lights and sirens, and in all manner of weather conditions.  She thinks outside of the box and tries to keep her community as safe as possible while still getting people the resources they need.  In one particular instance, she was faced with a young adult male that brandished a firearm while experiencing a psychotic episode.  She knew he needed help, but she also had a duty to maintain public safety and arrest this individual for the brandishing of the firearm.

Officer Sykes was able to reach out to a department MHP and a prosecutor to help the young man. She was able to ensure public safety by petitioning for an extreme risk protection order.  During the proceedings to have the male’s gun rights revoked, she also requested of the prosecutor that he be provided with a mental health assessment and services for his mental health concerns. She was able to foster both public safety and resource connection for the young male.

Officer Sykes is no stranger to hostile and stressful policing. During her time on a hostage negotiation team, she saw many suspects perpetrate domestic violence on their partners; she saw many suicides that could have been prevented; she witnessed the anguish of family members when they learned their loved ones had died due to gang violence.  One day, she was the subject of a call–her husband experienced a catastrophic medical event resulting in his death in their living room.  She tried desperately to render aid while she waited for emergency medical services to arrive. She described, to a counselor, watching his life leave his body and the resulting irreversible heartbreak she experienced.  She sought comfort in counseling and the affection provided to her by three incredible dogs. She speaks openly about how therapy keeps her whole and keeps her smiling and carrying on with hopeful eyes toward the future.  She continues to be a fixture in her job of resiliency by leading as an example.  

Seeking peer support or counseling is the most vulnerable thing most first responders can do.  Admitting that the stressors, life circumstances, and pain are too much to handle alone takes courage.  It would be unfathomable for a first responder to tell a 911 caller they were weak for asking for help.  In turn, these officers exemplify bravery in realizing that asking for help is ,in fact. the most courageous act they could endeavor to do. 

In vulnerability, we all find strength.

  

*names have been changed

First Responders, Journal

The Weight of the Badge

Posted on by First Responder Project
The Weight of the Badge
12
May

By Amanda Dozanti

In February 2015, I was awarded the American Legion Heroes Award — officer of the year for 2014. By September 2015, I had succumbed to the job. I was a paranoid, hypervigilant, cynical deputy sheriff who was also completely burned out.

Like many law enforcement officers, I had stopped trusting anyone and everyone around me. Eventually, I did not trust myself and my own judgment. In the month following my resignation, I slept for nearly 16 hours a day for a month straight and learned that I had adrenal fatigue, which was a totally foreign concept.

I felt shame that I thought about giving up — a few times. If I wanted to survive, I had to come to terms with the fact that I also had PTSD and depression. It took a while, but I didn’t believe in folding, so I started healing myself. Subsequently, I decided that I needed to take action to process and grow from the experience.

I found myself diving into things that I had previously loved, like yoga. I went all in and became an instructor. During that time, I also returned to school and got my master’s degree in criminology and victimology. Learning about what your mind and body go through during trauma is incredibly powerful knowledge to have when you are processing such experiences.

I did all this while working full-time as a criminal court victim advocate and planning a wedding. What I thought was me “healing” was really me avoiding. I was piling on responsibility and distraction to keep from telling myself the truth.

As I transitioned from being a hard-core full-time law enforcement officer to a volunteer officer trying to come to terms with my fall from grace, I couldn’t understand why I was still carrying around the weight of the badge. What I learned is that so many of us in emergency services suffer from tremendous pressure, a work-life balance that seems unattainable, and a lack of self-care.

I was able to shift simple things in daily life to reduce hypervigilance, paranoia, and the ever-present fog of years of trauma, but I still felt heavy. It wasn’t until I stared my fear in the eyes and got honest with myself that I felt freedom. I had to be straight-up with the mirror and acknowledge that I had been deeply affected by my experiences, both on and off duty.

I wasn’t bulletproof.

When I was able to be vulnerable with myself, I began to trust myself again. Although it took years for me to be honest with the people around me, I was able to truly start healing. First responders are so good at hiding their pain and fear from those around them, and even themselves. The wild part is that the majority of first responders are all feeling the heaviness of their shift work.

We need to turn up the conversation around first responders and mental wellness!

 

Amanda Dozanti is the creator of Life Saver Wellness. You can learn more about her work by visiting  https://www.lifesaverwellness.com/

First Responders, Journal

Human

Posted on by First Responder Project
Human Eye
18
Mar

By Captain LaShanna Potts

I was bright-eyed and full of innocence. You know, the average young adult with no life experience who still thought I had it figured out. I had just turned 19, and I wanted to save the world. I really thought I could. I just needed to join my police department, and my superpowers would magically appear to heal the ills of society. Cops, for me, were modern-day superheroes.

Superman has his cape, Wonder Woman has her lasso, and cops have their badges. They run toward danger when others run away. I wanted to be them, dress like them, and help my community just like them. I embarked on this career on Feb. 17, 1997. I was 97-K. I joined my department one year after graduating high school and was the second youngest in my class. In my first week post-graduation, I experienced my first trauma. A violent mental health call came in from the Polish community of my precinct. I was excited, and my adrenaline was pumping. All those months in the academy, I thought I had trained for this moment. We were going to get there and use verbal judo to de-escalate the situation and then be on to the next run — or so I thought.

I can still remember the house. It is funny how some memories stay for a lifetime and others fade. As we walked up to the front steps, we were met with a locked, enclosed porch. We could see into the living room. There they stood. Our eyes were fixated on them, and theirs on us. An older woman was crying, and right behind her stood her son with his arm around her neck.

It was as if time moved in slow motion. We yelled for him to let her go as we began to break down the door to gain access. Our guns were at the ready. Then it happened. He screamed something in his language, and before we could get to him, he stabbed her. We never saw the knife. With one stab wound to the back of her head, she dropped to the floor. He immediately dropped to his knees, with his hands visible and in the air. He was taken into custody. As I reflect on my feelings, I remember wanting to shoot him. Why did he get to live when he had taken her life?

As we were breaking through the door, the reality of what was expected of me became eerily real. This was not a cop movie. We did not get to say “cut” and rewind the tape so that the incident never happens. This was now part of our internal baggage. The subsequent pats on our backs and reassurances that we did everything we could do did not seem enough. She was still dead. I said earlier that I thought cops were superheroes. I still believe this to be true. What I have learned over my 24-year career is that we are also human.

In writing this article, I let my heart guide me. Some may think sharing personal stories comes with risk, and to a degree, that is true. However, what is the cost of not sharing my story, which could potentially help someone else? I make no apologies for my candor. Overall, my 24-year career has been amazing. I would not trade my experiences, good or bad, because they have made me resilient, empathetic, and compassionate. I will continue to shine a light on first responders and their experiences with the hope of preventing another first-responder suicide.

We can no longer suffer in silence. Unchecked trauma kills marriages, destroys careers, takes away happiness, and, sadly for some, their lives. We now know the antidote is not another round at the bar. It is realizing that help is a phone call away. It is recognizing that great cops are still great cops before and after they seek help. Do not ever think that you have to fight alone. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of us willing to stand with you, shoulder to shoulder, who know what you are going through and have made it to the other side of recovery.

The road traveled is not an easy one for us, but nothing worth having usually is. The culture in policing is changing. We are no longer just saying we are our brother’s keeper. We are showing it by putting time and resources into providing help to our first responders who are experiencing trauma. There is no shame in asking for help. The shame is in needing it and not having it. As Lao Tsu said, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.”

 

LaShanna Potts is a captain with the Detroit Police Department. She is currently working on completing her master’s degree at Walden University.

First Responders

A New Day for the First Responders

Posted on by First Responder Project

“Calls are up; fires are down.”

This is the new day and age of being a firefighter and a first responder. The receiving end of 911 calls has become a ruthless whirlwind of unimaginable experiences. The days of going to fires and drinking beer throughout a twelve-hour shift are over. The sexiness of the glory days has gone, and the job has changed. First responders are going on calls daily that would emotionally scar the average person for their whole life, and some of us are still holding on to things like toxic masculinity or the ‘suck it up’ attitude.

“It’s not that bad.”

Since I started this career, I’ve worked the busiest rigs in their respective county areas or battalions. But I STILL told myself, “it’s not that bad; there are busier rigs and busier departments out there somewhere, running more traumatic experiences than you, so you should think about them.” If the legends I worship from the FDNY in the 1970s weren’t writing about mental health and talking about positivity, then who am I to do so? If my brothers and sisters working in the more run-down areas in the big cities aren’t complaining about mental and physical fatigue, why should I?

Make the Decision

Years ago, I made a decision that I wanted to be a part of ocean rescue. I wanted to be a lifeguard. I realized that physically I was going to have to make changes; it was time to get fit, as fit as I could. I learned that this was a new form of therapy, and the habits I created then I will take with me to the grave. I’m daily chasing the runner’s high. I can compare this decision to the recent one I made to round out not only my body but also my mind and spirit. I had bouts of anxiety and depression long before being a first responder, and I thought that my new fitness habits could be the sole tool for dealing with a sour mind and spirit.

A handful of years have gone by since then, and very recently I have admitted to myself that I need other habits to help. Once I made this commitment, I recognized this will have to be a daily habit. I’ve just added yet another task to my daily routine. But it never feels like a chore; it’s just a commitment – that’s all it is, and it doesn’t take much. Every day I can, there is something I read, journal, or meditate on.

I’m not on a mission to lose any aggressiveness–it has its place. I just implore anyone who needs it to work on a more holistic approach of personal progression—mind, body, and spirit. There isn’t anything wrong with being a warrior monk. First responders, in particular, are susceptible to physiological responses they aren’t even aware of.

Family Member

Pride, fear, worry. These were the early years in law enforcement

Posted on by First Responder Project

When my spouse said he was going to become a law enforcement officer, I was filled with the usual emotions I would expect from most significant others. Pride, fear, worry–all wrapped up in love. These were the early years. Then, as the day-to-day of long hours, no answers to phone calls, repeated missed events (“I’ll make it there” and the continued let down of “sorry, babe, won’t be home” or “can’t make it, you go without me, I have a call”) settled in, so too did the resentment.

Often I would wait excited at the door to tell him about my day as I had not been able to speak to him during his 12-hour (often longer) shift and be met with, “Not now; I just need to eat.” I would try again with different tactics. Okay, he doesn’t want to talk about my stuff right now. Maybe he will talk to me about his stuff. So I would reach out again with, “how was your day? What kind of calls did you go on?” only to be met with, “Really? I just got in the door.” I would often be left feeling hurt and alone in our marriage. I wanted a partner who wanted to be present and wanted to tell me about their day and hear about mine.

I would go on about making decisions myself as shit needed to get done, whether he was choosing to show up physically or mentally. I would want to have talks about goals and future ideas for our home, and he would shut down. He would tell me he is focused on today. I would grow to resent his job and make no secret about it, so every time there would be a call-out, I would say, “Of course…so see you next week.” I would call his phone on rapid dial back-to-back-to-back until I would get an answer, making me the crazy person who just didn’t support law enforcement.

As I chose to become consumed by the tornado that is the law enforcement life (if you let it), I finally said I have to live my life not encompassed around you and not doing everything based off you so I will not resent you. Once I started to do this, I became happier, and all his call-outs, distance, and lack of being checked in at home did not upset me as much. I did what I needed to do for myself. I reached out to family forums for first responders. He now asks me about my day, and we now make time for family days.

Please know that family members carry a percent of the day-to-day burdens of the job, and this can build into a mountain that can no longer be crossed if it is not addressed. Don’t let this happen to you. Address these issues; it starts with you. Do what is needed to take care of yourself.

First Responders

If you’re reading this, you might feel like an oddball.

Posted on by First Responder Project

You probably keep a weapon on you at all times or within arm’s reach. You compartmentalize your memories and emotions, even if you don’t know what that means. These are learned skills, probably taught by your institution, that help you succeed at your job but fail at life.

You’re not normal as far as the rest of the world is concerned. You are weird, and that should be expected, seeing what you’ve seen, and doing what normal people don’t want to think about. “Normals” find you to be paranoid and call you a conspiracy theorist or prepper, and not in the good sense. You have been taught to trust no one from the outside and possibly be ready to flip the switch, ready to hurt or kill at any moment. Those are not the ingredients for a healthy lifestyle, but they are the mechanisms that help you cope on a daily basis.

You may feel like your friends or significant other resent you for not being carefree like you used to be. You have probably cleared your house in the middle of the night, probably more than once. You probably avoid normal situations while at the same time seeking out confrontation with the ones you care about. You probably eat your emotions or drink too much to avoid them, and you probably lose your temper over dumb shit. All of which you find yourself apologizing for far too often. Lots of apologies to supervisors for losing your shit. Lots of “I’m sorrys” to loved ones for flaking out or losing your cool over superfluous things.

If this speaks to you, YOU ARE NOT ALONE… Your thoughts are normal, and there are a lot of us that feel exactly the same way; we’re just all too proud to talk about it. Too Macho. When you want to talk, please reach out to us at First Responder Project.

First Responders

I hope if you are where I was, you reach out to someone like me who cares.

Posted on by First Responder Project

I had been working homicide and was on-call that week. The house was a wreck. I remember having the thought that I spent more time with the dead between cases, autopsies, and exhuming bodies than I did with the living. My next call was on July 4th.

The victim was shot among 200 partygoers. She died, and people left her for hours until the party was over. She was shot several times; however, nobody seemed to know it because of the number of fireworks. Yes, we did GSR kits on 200 people…FML.

This case was just one of many that reinforced that people are miserable pieces of shit. There is a lady on the ground. Why are you dancing…trampling her body?

After I began the investigation, it took me to lots of unsavory places and topics, as investigations usually do. The outcome was the lady had HIV, and she was pregnant by a local drug dealer. He gave her HIV and killed her so nobody would know about the baby or the disease.

As a First Responder, the job taught me that there is life, the facade of life, and what everyone wants or thinks life should be. Nobody ever asked if you were OK. We drank, we got divorced, and people said we were salty. But nobody cared why…as long as the suspect was arrested, or in the morgue.

I hope if you are where I was, you reach out to someone like me who cares. You are not alone.

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