Life after the shift: Supporting the first responder behind the uniform
Being married to a first responder, active or retired, comes with many emotions. To them, it's the job they agreed to do, and they're simply holding up their end of the bargain, but to the rest of us, spouses, families, children, community members, it's a job that requires sacrifice. Sacrifice is not something to take lightly. In general, we often see these sacrifices on the surface, things that everyday people might not consider like late hours, lower pay, holidays, weekend work, and all the things most of us in the workforce take for granted. The deeper sacrifice is the one we can't see, the one lurking around darker corners: the haunting images, the unimaginable sounds, and the overall acceptance of what horrible things humanity can be capable of. These are heavy weights to carry, especially if they are carried alone and in silence.
My husband served almost 17 years with the Nashville Police Department. By the time we met, he had been retired for a short while and was working in another field altogether. I was fascinated hearing about his career, the things he did, and the awards he had earned over the years. Almost immediately, I could tell that talking about his job came with a certain distance. He wouldn't want to go into much detail and, in general, didn't talk about it for long before casually changing the topic. His career also tied closely to his father's, who had worked in the same department, and his loss still impacted him profoundly. So, I told myself if he ever wants to talk about it, I'm here. If not, that's okay too.
As time went on and we grew closer, I noticed there seemed to be a nervousness around things I had never given a second thought to. If he couldn't reach me or the kids by phone, I could sense anxiety when he finally did. When it came time for the kids to get their first jobs, he was adamant they do not work in fast food due to the risk of being robbed. Some of the decisions and emotions that drove him seemed to come from a place of fear. If something felt off his mind would immediately go to the worst-case scenario. For example, if he couldn't reach me, he feared I'd been in a bad accident and was hurt.
Eventually, we began talking about some of these things, and over time he was able to vocalize the root of his anxieties. When he did, I found it both heartbreaking and understandable. Years of responding to accidents and acts of violence had programmed his brain to believe those were the most common outcomes in life. He was operating out of fear, even when he didn't realize it. This came out in ways he hadn't noticed until I pointed them out. My husband is in recovery and often speaks to groups about his story. I noticed that the examples he shared from his career were almost always the same four or five memories. One day I asked him if he'd ever noticed that he always referenced those same calls and he honestly had not. It was witnessing, in real time, the imprint that trauma can leave on the brain.
Sometimes I'd look over and notice a blank stare, or that he was quieter than usual. My first instinct was to ask if something was wrong. Over time, he found comfort in explaining that, in those moments, he was visualizing images from the job, but instead of the victims, he was seeing me, our kids, or our family. As we grew stronger together, I learned how to create a safe space for him during those moments.
Living with someone who has trauma or PTSD undoubtedly requires patience and understanding. As spouses, our first instinct is often to think we've done something wrong or upset them and we take it personally. That's what we worked to change. Establishing safe calls between us helped a lot. Basically, recognizing when one of us was struggling with fear or unwanted emotions, and knowing it was okay to call the other and just say so. We don't have to have a magic answer to fix it and honestly, we can't, but we can listen and let them say it out loud.
In general, fear drives a lot of anger. There can be irritability that comes with discussing these emotions, too. I've learned to separate myself in those moments from thinking it's a 'me' problem to understanding it's a 'we' problem. They aren't angry with us; they're angry with fear and anxiety building inside them that feels out of their control. As partners, while we must protect our own well-being, it takes conscious effort to put aside our frustrations long enough to help bring them back to safety. It takes time and patience to reach that place of comfort and trust, but once you do, you can see them step back into the present with you and watch the fear fade away.
As protectors, they often find it difficult to accept this kind of help, but they need it and deserve it just like everyone else. At Magnolia Meadows first responders, active military, and veterans can exclusively get support alongside others' with lived experience.
Magnolia Meadows Residential Treatment Facility provides Treatment exclusive for First Responders & Veterans battling Trauma, Mental Health Conditions and Co-Occurring Disorders, creating a healing atmosphere for recovery, and instill a confident hope that better days are ahead.
Reach out to learn more or speak with an admissions specialist.
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