RUNNING
Image Source: Unsplash
"Sometimes the strongest people are the ones who fight battles you know nothing about." - California Prime Recovery.
Last week, I watched the most recent 2-part episode of the ABC drama 911. The plot carried over from the previous week when the members of the Los Angeles Fire Department's Station 118 suffered a line of duty death of its beloved Captain Bobby Nash. In part two, the storyline involved a retrospective of Nash's life, and the television audience bore witness to the struggles of his two families (immediate and firehouse) in dealing with this significant loss.
Captain Nash died when he sacrificed himself to save one of his firefighters, nicknamed Chimney. The release of a virus exposed both men to certain death with a plot twist - only one dose of an anti-viral existed. Nash chose to let Chimney live. When the episode opened, two weeks had passed since Nash had died, but his funeral had not taken place yet because of an OSHA investigation. The members of the 118 returned to work, still reeling from his death.
The main plot focuses on the mental health struggles of Chimney, who isolated himself from his wife, daughter, and his crewmates. He began drinking heavily to numb the pain. He returned to work with the rest of the team and displayed anger management issues while responding to calls. In a pivotal scene, Chimney's wife, Maddie, has a frank conversation with her husband where he voices survivor's guilt (why did Bobby die and not himself). Maddie told Chimney that running from his grief and struggles only compounds his issues when she said, "The problem with running is that you can never get far enough away." Her statement is the foundation on which I am writing this post.
Each May, we observe Mental Health Awareness Month around the globe, and this episode struck close to home for me. As I watched the story unfold, I had a visceral reaction. I could feel and relate to the grief and survivor's guilt (of the members of the 118). The funeral of Captain Nash resonated and took me back to 27 years prior when my department experienced the death by suicide of one of our colleagues. I have discussed this suicide in a previous post and will not expound here. My focus will be on running.
Image Source: Eneida Hoti (Unsplash)
In the years that followed (sixteen to be exact), unlike Chimney, I did not numb the pain with alcohol or drugs. However, I did bury myself in survivor's guilt, anger management, sleepless nights, anxiety, and a chronic heightened stress response. What I did not realize back then was that my brain used this chronic fight-or-flight to not only protect me from the echoes of my mind but also keep me running away from what haunted me. Here lies the paradox of those who serve others as first responders, military, and healthcare workers.
We all took an oath to save lives and protect property. Our instinct and training tell us to run toward danger when others run in the opposite direction. We repeat this process whenever the alarm sounds for a call to action. We do so without hesitation so that others may live—except for maintaining our mental health and well-being. Then, we tend to deny what causes us suffering instead of facing it head-on.
Like Chimney, we deny our sufferings out of fear of ostracism and loss of our job (badge, uniform, or, in the case of law enforcement - their gun). We rationalize by saying, "It's not me, it's them." Many numb themselves with alcohol, drugs, gambling, or sex addiction. For some public servants, the pain becomes so great that the only way to find relief is to take their own life. The hallmark of my undiagnosed PTSD manifested in my inability to deal with conflict effectively. However, my pivotal moment came during peer support training, where I finally realized I had unresolved issues. I sought help and never returned to someone that I used to know. I still have moments, but that is part of the human experience.
I write this post from the perspective of a retired first responder, but mental health awareness is a subject that all humans should openly discuss no matter what path or occupation they take. Mental health education is the key to greater understanding and empathy for yourself and others whose path you cross in this lifetime. There is hope, so please reach out if you are struggling. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness but courage.
I leave you with a cover song by the Zac Brown Band titled From Now On. This song appeared in the movie The Greatest Showman, a biopic about the life of P.T. Barnum. For this post, I interpret the message as one about reuniting the body, mind, and spirit that often dissociates when we are traumatized. Herbalist Brigid Anna McNeill, speaking from a viewpoint of self-compassion, once said, "You will never truly come back home to your body, to clean out the cobwebs and strengthen the foundations when you do not love the home you see." Until next time -
Namaste,
Tim
“Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for fair use for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use.”