Just cheer up, get over it, there’s nothing wrong, grown men don’t cry, it’s your job. All words I’ve heard and even said to others. I served in the Police for 10 years. I have dealt with my share of mental illness patients, 504’s or spoons as referred to in the Police. Little did I know I’d develop it myself?
I always believed that mental illness was the sign of the weak. I never really understood it and at times, never believed it existed. I lived in denial. Through my career as a Police Officer I knew I was changing, I knew something wasn’t quite right but just put it down to me being different.
An average night could consist of several domestics, assaults and a week old dead body, just to finish it off. The adrenaline kept you going. The busy shifts kept you going. The drinking kept you forgetting. It wasn’t until I was drinking to excess, not sleeping, constantly having strange thoughts and my wife telling me I needed help that I identified it wasn’t just me being different. I saw my doctor who referred me to a psychiatrist.
I was in part denial and shock when I was diagnosed with PTSD, Depression and Anxiety, my wife wasn’t. She knew I was suffering but soldering on, like you’re supposed to, aren’t you? My understanding and appreciation of the disease grew exponentially. I finally understood why I was suffering and gained a sympathy for those I once mocked. I sincerly apologise to you all.
The cause? I was in a covert unit that required very high hypervigilance. I worked from a safe house and was always watching over my shoulder. I couldn’t chance having my work follow me home. I was constantly dealing with those who could ‘benefit’ from knowing where I lived or my family lived. It became draining, sleeping with one eye open. Long story short, my only way of getting out of the unit was to leave the Police.
It wasn’t until I asked for help of the Police Service for my treatment that I felt so alone and abandoned. I spoke to others who had suffered similarly and they too had been abandoned. The thin blue line had vanished. I looked further into the failure of the Police to look after their current and ex-serving officers and discovered that mental illness is very poorly handled almost not acknowledged. The rate of suicide within the Police is far higher than the general population, but most go unreported as a workplace incident or connection to the work involved. The lack of help and support from the Police service is a major cause of these high rates.
I’m not one to believe in ‘conspiracy theories’ but the treatment of those suffering mental illness due to what is experienced within the Police Service is a major cover-up. Is it due to money, is it due to the archaic processes or beliefs in the Service or is it that they do not want to blemish what they advertise as an adventurous career?
For those like myself, who are suffering, we don’t care, we just want help and want to feel better before we too become another hidden statistic. I’m still fighting for help and have no idea where it will go. Will I too become invisible?
