PTSD: A Silent Killer
Let me start by saying, this post may be triggering for some, hopefully educational, and perhaps cathartic for others. I hope that the information and insight I am sharing will open eyes,start conversations, dispel myths, evoke empathy, and encourage continued change.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is a psychiatric disorder that may occur in people who have experienced or witnessed a traumatic event. These events might include an act of war, serious accident, death of a friend, colleague, loved one, personal threat, violence, abuse and/or serious injury. This list is not exhaustive; trauma, its cause, and effect look different for each person. PTSD can occur after one traumatic event, or evolve over time, after encountering numerous traumas.
Statistics show that nearly ten percent of Canadian's will experience PTSD related symptoms in their lifetime. That is astounding, yet my opinion it is likely higher than that. What is more concerning is the continued minimizing and marginalizing of those suffering from the disorder. Like "mental illness", PTSD silently erodes the mind, body, and soul; it is cunning, does not show prejudice, and often shows no outward signs until the later stages.
PTSD has stages and symptoms related to the disorder. Not every person will encounter the same symptoms, however many are quite common, and I want to provide a list of these to take note of:
- Flashbacks
- Intrusive thoughts or images
- Nightmares
- Intense feelings of distress directly related to the trauma
- Physical/emotional sensations such as pain, sweating, nauseousness, shaking
- Hyper-vigilance
- Panicking
- Paranoia
- Easily angered or inappropriate emotions
- Irritability
- Aggressive
- Inability to concentrate
- Acute startle response
- Extreme anxiety
There are common reactions from people suffering from PTSD. Avoidance of normal routine, inability to sleep, or a marked change in sleeping patterns is very common. Refusing to engage with people or take part in normal daily activities is also a common side effect. Many if not all people suffering with PTSD will have depression, anxiety, or both as part of their illness. Some people who suffer from PTSD will engage in addictive behaviour such as gambling, smoking, alcohol or drug use, sexual promiscuity, online shopping, and/or self harm.
My journey with PTSD started mid way through my policing career with the RCMP. If I can describe the evolution, it would be something like this:
Once upon a time, there was a City girl who wanted to help people, in fact, she thought she could save the world. She joined the RCMP, amid a failing marriage, hoping to escape her life and find adventure. Her motives were pure, her goals were lofty, but she believed she could, so she did. She was surrounded by the "old boys club", work hard, play even harder. There was no such thing as paid overtime; it was voluntary. The job called for vigilance, alertness, survival mode, multi-tasking, and a whole lot of risk-taking. We did not talk about feelings, we just did it and carried on. My first shift in my very small-town detachment was to an overdose of a young teen. It was the first dead body I saw. In my first two weeks of work, I received the nickname "death". I do not think I need to tell you why. As a young whipper snapper this was an adrenaline rush that never really stopped. Even at the end of a shift, I found it extremely hard to wind down and let it go. Every stop, every chase, every death, every time I had to pull my gun from its holster, every stupid call, risky chance, next of kin, visit to the morgue, crime scene, photograph, weapon seized, abandoned child, injured officer, killed officer and on and on. These were the things going through my mind. Not to mention, where is my back up when I am about to enter a home by myself in the middle of who knows where Saskatchewan. Yes, this is the life of an RCMP officer. This is where the mental wrestling match started.
What I did not realize for so many years was that not dealing with, talking about, or managing the trauma of my job was going to undo me later. My psychiatrist, Dr. C., gave me an analogy many years ago that has stuck with me regarding how PTSD shows up.
Your mental health is like a closet. We put every tough and traumatic experience into our closet. We wear the good experiences, and they never seem to make it into the closet. Only the ugly, tough, gross stuff gets shoved inside. One day, as we are shoving more and more into the closet of pain, the doors cannot hold back the pressure any longer and they burst open. When they burst open, you have a choice to deal with it, or you end it.
This really struck a chord with me. In 2014, I lost a colleague to suicide. He struggled deeply with PTSD and despite the therapy, medication, and efforts to help him, he chose to end his life. I was golfing at Buffalo Point, on the 17th hole, admiring the eagle nest with my husband and good friends when my work phone rang. I am not sure why I had my work phone with me……I guess another clue I was married to the job. When I answered, I received some of the worst news of my life. Not only was my good buddy gone, but what followed would start the spiral of my own undoing.
The survivor's guilt, nightmares and intrusive thoughts came and were relentless. I survived on 2 hours of sleep a night for several years, I became withdrawn, extremely paranoid, hyper-vigilant and I completely isolated myself from friends and my normal activities. I tuned out using social media, online shopping, and work…. yes work. The crappier I felt, the more I leaned into my work as an outlet.
November 2016, I was sent to Shamattawa for relief duties. Unless you have been to "Sham", I cannot really describe adequately what its like. It was like hell to me. I was so scared to be there. The calls were violent, so much violence. It was just myself and my partner. In the first week I cut down three people trying to take their lives, found an abandoned toddler in a diaper walking the streets at midnight in the snow, and walked into situations that I should never have if I knew what I did now. I was like a robot. After shift at 2am, I laid on the sofa, uniform on, gun in my hand as I had visions of locals shooting up my trailer. I could finally sleep once the sun rose. This is normal, isn't it? No, it is NOT normal. Something was very wrong, but I did not see it yet.
When I got home, my behaviour became acute, I became irrational, OCD, scared of everything, looking over my shoulder, and my husband gave me an ultimatum. Get yourself to the psychologist at work and get some help, he told me. I knew he was serious, so I made the appointment and went. On November 30, 2016, I was removed from duty and that was the moment my recovery started. I experienced every high, every low, and everything in between. Since that time, I have been going for regular therapy, now as a check in every few months, but initially weekly, just to stay afloat. I was given medications for mood, anxiety, sleep, nightmares, and restless legs. It was a lot. I also took intensive Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (I highly recommend this), through the Occupational Stress Injury Clinic. This was a huge part of my recovery. Building community with other first responders who were also grappling with PTSD was a vital part of my recovery, a continued support group, along with a supportive spouse and family, who encouraged and championed my road to healing. Although I did return to work for another year during my therapy, I knew I was done and needed to remove myself from any association with first responder trauma. I was no longer built to handle it. Accepting that, although tough, was crucial.
Today, I am engaged in my children's lives again, happily married to my greatest supporter, and have my hopes and dreams back. This platform is one my dreams being realized. I have committed my life to advocating and training others to be who they are called to be, to know that there is hope, that with Hard Work, anything is possible. My life purpose is to create a platform where all feel welcome, included, heard, and supported.
If you or a loved one is struggling with PTSD, depression and/or anxiety, I am here and I am listening. There are services here in Manitoba, and in every City across Canada, to help assist you or someone else to get the services needed to properly diagnose and find an appropriate treatment plan. It will not be easy, it is terrifying, it is humbling, BUT it brings freedom from isolation, pain, suffering and the HOPE is worth the journey. If you do not know where to start, you feel overwhelmed or alone, you message me, and I will help you find the resources to start your journey to health.
PTSD, depression, and anxiety are not meant to be walked alone. Ask a family member or friend how they are doing? Check in with those who walk with mental health struggles often; be sincere, mean what you say, and be prepared to walk with them. Stop the stigma!!!!
Wellness Together Canada: 1-866-585-0445
Youth: Text WELLNESS or 686868
Adult: Text WELLNESS or 741741
Manitoba Crisis Hotline: 204-786-8686
Mobile Crisis Centre: 204-940-1781
My journey with PTSD started mid way through my policing career with the RCMP. If I can describe the evolution, it would be something like this:
Once upon a time, there was a City girl who wanted to help people, in fact, she thought she could save the world. She joined the RCMP, amid a failing marriage, hoping to escape her life and find adventure. Her motives were pure, her goals were lofty, but she believed she could, so she did. She was surrounded by the "old boys club", work hard, play even harder. There was no such thing as paid overtime; it was voluntary. The job called for vigilance, alertness, survival mode, multi-tasking, and a whole lot of risk-taking. We did not talk about feelings, we just did it and carried on. My first shift in my very small-town detachment was to an overdose of a young teen. It was the first dead body I saw. In my first two weeks of work, I received the nickname "death". I do not think I need to tell you why. As a young whipper snapper this was an adrenaline rush that never really stopped. Even at the end of a shift, I found it extremely hard to wind down and let it go. Every stop, every chase, every death, every time I had to pull my gun from its holster, every stupid call, risky chance, next of kin, visit to the morgue, crime scene, photograph, weapon seized, abandoned child, injured officer, killed officer and on and on. These were the things going through my mind. Not to mention, where is my back up when I am about to enter a home by myself in the middle of who knows where Saskatchewan. Yes, this is the life of an RCMP officer. This is where the mental wrestling match started.
What I did not realize for so many years was that not dealing with, talking about, or managing the trauma of my job was going to undo me later. My psychiatrist, Dr. C., gave me an analogy many years ago that has stuck with me regarding how PTSD shows up.
Your mental health is like a closet. We put every tough and traumatic experience into our closet. We wear the good experiences, and they never seem to make it into the closet. Only the ugly, tough, gross stuff gets shoved inside. One day, as we are shoving more and more into the closet of pain, the doors cannot hold back the pressure any longer and they burst open. When they burst open, you have a choice to deal with it, or you end it.
This really struck a chord with me. In 2014, I lost a colleague to suicide. He struggled deeply with PTSD and despite the therapy, medication, and efforts to help him, he chose to end his life. I was golfing at Buffalo Point, on the 17th hole, admiring the eagle nest with my husband and good friends when my work phone rang. I am not sure why I had my work phone with me……I guess another clue I was married to the job. When I answered, I received some of the worst news of my life. Not only was my good buddy gone, but what followed would start the spiral of my own undoing.
The survivor's guilt, nightmares and intrusive thoughts came and were relentless. I survived on 2 hours of sleep a night for several years, I became withdrawn, extremely paranoid, hyper-vigilant and I completely isolated myself from friends and my normal activities. I tuned out using social media, online shopping, and work…. yes work. The crappier I felt, the more I leaned into my work as an outlet.
November 2016, I was sent to Shamattawa for relief duties. Unless you have been to "Sham", I cannot really describe adequately what its like. It was like hell to me. I was so scared to be there. The calls were violent, so much violence. It was just myself and my partner. In the first week I cut down three people trying to take their lives, found an abandoned toddler in a diaper walking the streets at midnight in the snow, and walked into situations that I should never have if I knew what I did now. I was like a robot. After shift at 2am, I laid on the sofa, uniform on, gun in my hand as I had visions of locals shooting up my trailer. I could finally sleep once the sun rose. This is normal, isn't it? No, it is NOT normal. Something was very wrong, but I did not see it yet.
When I got home, my behaviour became acute, I became irrational, OCD, scared of everything, looking over my shoulder, and my husband gave me an ultimatum. Get yourself to the psychologist at work and get some help, he told me. I knew he was serious, so I made the appointment and went. On November 30, 2016, I was removed from duty and that was the moment my recovery started. I experienced every high, every low, and everything in between. Since that time, I have been going for regular therapy, now as a check in every few months, but initially weekly, just to stay afloat. I was given medications for mood, anxiety, sleep, nightmares, and restless legs. It was a lot. I also took intensive Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (I highly recommend this), through the Occupational Stress Injury Clinic. This was a huge part of my recovery. Building community with other first responders who were also grappling with PTSD was a vital part of my recovery, a continued support group, along with a supportive spouse and family, who encouraged and championed my road to healing. Although I did return to work for another year during my therapy, I knew I was done and needed to remove myself from any association with first responder trauma. I was no longer built to handle it. Accepting that, although tough, was crucial.
Today, I am engaged in my children's lives again, happily married to my greatest supporter, and have my hopes and dreams back. This platform is one my dreams being realized. I have committed my life to advocating and training others to be who they are called to be, to know that there is hope, that with Hard Work, anything is possible. My life purpose is to create a platform where all feel welcome, included, heard, and supported.
If you or a loved one is struggling with PTSD, depression and/or anxiety, I am here and I am listening. There are services here in Manitoba, and in every City across Canada, to help assist you or someone else to get the services needed to properly diagnose and find an appropriate treatment plan. It will not be easy, it is terrifying, it is humbling, BUT it brings freedom from isolation, pain, suffering and the HOPE is worth the journey. If you do not know where to start, you feel overwhelmed or alone, you message me, and I will help you find the resources to start your journey to health.
PTSD, depression, and anxiety are not meant to be walked alone. Ask a family member or friend how they are doing? Check in with those who walk with mental health struggles often; be sincere, mean what you say, and be prepared to walk with them. Stop the stigma!!!!
Wellness Together Canada: 1-866-585-0445
Youth: Text WELLNESS or 686868
Adult: Text WELLNESS or 741741
Manitoba Crisis Hotline: 204-786-8686
Mobile Crisis Centre: 204-940-1781
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Comments 1
Guest - Cynthia Falk
on Friday, 21 May 2021 15:14
You are the bravest woman I know. Thank you for sharing your story!