So, as you have probably figured out, I’m a member of the RCMP, Canada’s National Police Force. That being said, my journey is something that any First Responder could experience, so don’t let the Scarlet Tunic throw you off.
I started my policing career back in 2001 after spending the first part of my adult professional life as a youth care worker, employment counsellor and finally a child protection social work. Yep that’s right, I have a social work degree, you gotta a problem with that??? Trust me, I’ve taken my fair share of ribbing about this previous career and education by numerous bosses and co-works. It got to the point that I avoided telling people.
Regardless of my earlier education choices, for the past 17 and a half years of my adult life I have been a police officer, a Mountie to be more exact and the fulfillment of a childhood dream. And, this career in policing has provided me some of the most rewarding and some of the down right ugliest times of my life. I have been an uniformed police officer living in small communities and on an Isolated Post (only means of access was a plane or a winter road) and have spent over half my career in plain clothes sections doing everything from murder investigations to drug investigations and anything and everything in between.
It was during these years that a few of the “ugly moments” left their mark and a spent a lot of energy over a few years to keep everything under wraps. But as I was soon to find out, you can’t hold back a tidal wave. This year, everything came crashing down around me and all those ugly moments, including one hell of an ugly moment, came to the forefront of my life. Since May 2018, I have been trying to put the pieces together to get through the PTSD rabbit hole and find my new reality on the other side.
So, here’s the kicker to this story. Despite all these ugly moments, I had been able to live life. I got married, adopted one of the greatest joys in my life, my son, and heck, I even did an Ironman Triathlon, got promoted and ran some damn good investigations. But since May 2018, getting out of bed, remembering what I have to do for the day and even getting out in public have been struggles at times. I have lost my confidence that use to border on arrogance, I am overtaken by bouts of anxiety, panic and waves of emotions.
This blog is about my fight. My personal fight. My fight as a husband and a father. My fight as a police officer. My fight against the hold that PTSD has on me so that I can live life once again.
Cracked Badge 