I have always been what some would call a “rescuer”. And I finally found a job that would fulfill that need. I became a 911 dispatcher in the late 1990’s for one of the biggest law enforcement agencies in California. It was a grueling hiring process, but I was definitely up to the task. It took 2 years to be able to do the job efficiently and with confidence. The job entails working both police radios and phones. You were assigned one or the other at each shift, both assignments being challenging. And let it be known I LOVED MY JOB.
As the months turned into years, I also became a training officer and lead dispatcher adding more responsibility and stress to my life. But, I was helping people in many ways, and teaching new trainees how to do the job I loved.
In 2004, things started to change in my personal life. My father, who was a fire chief, was diagnosed with Alzheimers. My mother and oldest sister were both alcoholics. But I was able to separate work life from home life. As the years progressed, my fathers health continued to decline. My mother was mentally not able to handle any of it, and demanded that the 3 daughters take care of them both. My older sister was incapable of caring for them, so it fell to me and my younger sister.
Working 12 hour days with a 2 hour round trip commute, I started slowly wearing down mentally and physically, not only because of the tragic calls that I had to process from a 45 to 50 hour work week, but now my family demanded that I take on all their problems as well. My job was stressful enough with out adding my personal struggles on top of it. My younger sister was also feeling the strain, because she had a demanding job as well. In 2014 everything started to unravel. My alcoholic sister was being kicked out by her roommates because of her drinking, and was about to be homeless. Dad had fallen and broke 2 vertebrae in his back, making it necessary to place him with full time nursing care. It all fell on me, the rescuer. But now I was having trouble dealing with everything and It was clear that something had to give. And it was me.
I’m the rescuer right? But because of all the tragedy I was having to deal with at work and the stress about being forced to take on my families problems, I couldn’t function anymore. My PTSD wasn’t just one or two tragic events that I had witnessed over the phone or on the air, it was years and years of catastrophes I had been trying to absorb, and now I had to add watching my family fall apart. My own health was starting to decline and it was clear that I couldn’t do this without professional help. The pressure of my job and strain of my family was making me unable to function for anyone. I was calling in sick more and more. I found that I still loved my job, as long as I wasn’t doing it. I finally decided that the rescuer needed rescuing. So I found a counselor who specialized in law enforcement and fire personnel and the stress that goes with these careers. She has helped me immeasurably. My PTSD may be different than some, but with counseling, I was able to understand my stress, and why I needed to take better care of myself, and that my physical and mental health is just as important. With her help, I was able to continue working and manage my stress, and retire in 2017.
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