This is coming from a first responder,
But I also want to bring light to our profession. We are the heroes far too often that do the healing and the saving, when in reality we ourselves need to be healed.
My experience as a first responder has brought me to the lowest of lows, and this is where my story begins. I have struggled with PTSD for years now. Several months ago it finally became the biggest monster in an empty room. I came home from shift like I always do but this night was different. I didn’t make dinner, I didn’t fold my uniform for the next day, I came home telling myself I didn’t want to go to work tomorrow. I went to bed early which was unusual for me. In the middle of the night I was having a night terror, full of the scenes I’ve witnessed in my career. Half awake and terrified I reached for my off duty weapon in my night stand and held it to my head. Without a second thought I pulled the trigger. I prayed it would get the images out of my head. I didn’t want feel the pain or see it anymore.
Somehow that night I had a guardian angel watching over me. I had forgotten to load my gun. I pulled the trigger and nothing happened. I fell to my floor in tears wondering why?? Questioning what I was thinking, why I was still here.
It took me a while to realize it, but I am still here to make a difference. I’m here to give a voice for first responders because we suffer in silence. Big strong heroes are not allowed to be weak. No brother or sister should suffer the ultimate pain. And if my words can keep just one officer, EMT, or fire fighter alive than my work here is done. I’m here today for a reason, and it’s to make sure no one suffers alone.