Police PTSD, Stress & Suicide Documentary

Looks like the group at Badge of Life (badgeoflife.com) is trying to get financial support for a documentary on the above topics. I think the completion of such a film would be a great way to educate administrators, er, I mean law enforcement professionals about the importance of proactive mental health. 

Here's the trailer,


Code 9 Officer Needs Assistance

The Laugh Challenge

I teach a police stress class. It's really easy to talk about all the ways police work destroys our health and happiness. That's the easy part. The more challenging aspect of the class is getting cops to practice the things that will make us healthier bipeds. More comfortable in our skin. Better partners, parents and friends. Case in point: laughter.


Laughter acts just like medicine. It changes the way our body works at the physiologic level. Think about how you feel after a really good laugh. You feel great, right? Your muscles are more relaxed, you've stimulated blood flow and just plain feel better.


It's no accident that cops laugh so much. We collect a lot of tension at work and naturally, albeit unconsciously look for things to laugh at. Co-workers, their recounting of a street contact or call they responded to, are usually a good source of laughter. "So, I roll up get out of my car and this guy runs up to me and [insert bizarre, goofy or stupid action here]." We also laugh AT our co-workers too, don't we? The point is, we intuitively know laughing is good for us so we do it a lot.


But "fake" laughter gives us the exact same benefits as real laughter. Enter the Laugh Challenge. 


THE LAUGH CHALLENGE: 
You're sitting at the dinner table with your family (or friends). Pick a random time when everyone's there, and start laughing. Don't wait for something funny, create something funny by fake laughing. And, yeah, it'll feel really fake and silly and a voice in your head will bellow, "This is STUPID, stop it!" If you head that voice you will fail the challenge. Keep on with the fake laughter. A lot of people can't get past their "comfort zone" here, but not you. You're going to push on and keep laughing. 


If you've made it this far you'll see the good stuff. Okay, so you're laughing like a complete moron and your family is looking at you like you've finally fallen off the deep end. Right about here your real laugh will probably kick in. MAJOR PRINCIPLE OF LAUGH THERAPY: fake laughing produces real laughing. Your kids, wife, friends or whoever is around you will start laughing for real. Now, you're laughing for real, they're laughing for real and tears will start coming down your face. 


When I've done this in the past, I find it becomes one of those truly crazy laugh episodes. The ones you where you can't STOP laughing. After the dust settles and people are wiping the tears from their eyes you can tell them about the challenge. 


You've given yourself and everyone around you the gift of a good belly laugh. Let me know how it works out. 


For more on this see,


http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5165226

Another Good Video

On exercise. I know, you've heard it all before, but give this a look. 

Interview with former cop about PTSD

Haven't read the book but I'm guessing it's pretty good. Couple things to note about this brief interview. First, it highlights one of the ways people become traumatized. Namely, when you feel you're life is in immediate danger. You don't have to kill someone or be seriously wounded to get PTSD. If you experience an event in which you BELIEVE you are about to die or be seriously injured, that could be enough to trigger a trauma response. 


Secondly, notice the role of family in Jimmy Bremner's healing process. Research shows that police FAMILIES can either be an exacerbating or a healing force when confronted with PTSD. This is another reason working on our family relationships is so important throughout our police career. 


Finally, he's not talking about the shit bird that's a waist of oxygen and should have died except of course he didn't die because shit birds never die, because only the good people do... He says, "The gentleman" when referring to...er, the guy. He clearly hasn't let his experience as a police officer steal his compassion, as it does for so many of us. We could all learn something from Mr. Bremner. 


Happy Holidays!


Here's the link:

http://www.ctv.ca/CTVNews/TopStories/20111220/jimmy-bremner-crack-in-the-armor-post-traumatic-stress-111220/

:) (click me)

Bureaucracy v.s. The Guy who First Starting Playing this Game

When I was in the academy they used to say, “10% of cops do the work for the other 90. Do you want to be part of the 10 or part of the 90?”  Back then, this 10 and 90 thing was just a curious abstraction. Now, after working the street for a few years, I realize what they meant. 

The typical trajectory for cops is that we start off our careers being proactive, but over time we become less so. In fact, most cops eventually become firefighters, answering calls on their beat but doing little else. Some of us spend more energy trying to get out of “taking paper” than it would take to just take a report. 

During my first few years of patrol I felt indignant at the 90% Sometimes still do. What I’ve come to realize though is that there are good reasons cops reinvent themselves as firefighters. One of those reasons is that the bureaucracy in policing discourages proactivity. The more contact an officer has with the public, be it a consensual encounter or a detention, the more opportunity he gives bureaucrats to nitpick, micromanage, correct or even punish him. One of the old vets who trained me put it this way, “They want you to spin your wheels, so spin your wheels.” 

Like you, I didn’t become a cop to spin my wheels. I became a cop to have an exciting, challenging career and to MAKE A DIFFERENCE. How does an officer who has lost this desire to make a difference get it back? In the film Jerry Maquire, Tom Cruise tries reconnect Rod Tidwell (played by Cuba Gooding Jr.) to the enthusiastic ballplayer he once was,

...back to the guy who first started playing this game. Remember, way back when you were a kid? It wasn’t just about the money, was it?

At some point in their careers the 90% come to realize that it really has become about the money. Part of what got them to that point is the bureaucracy. 

Bureaucracy as Stress

We’re used to thinking of “stress” as feeling “stressed out.” Not so. The things that activate our fight, flight or freeze response are called “stressors.” For law enforcement personnel, part of what makes us sicker than others is the manifold nature of our stressors, including (but not limited to), 

Critical incidents.

Public scrutiny.

The administration.

Shift work.

Bureaucracy.

It’s the bureaucracy part we’re looking at today. It’s made worse by another stressor: lack of leadership. If your boss partners with you in acknowledging the good work you do as part of the 10%, looks for real reasons to compliment you on your work ethic, and then - and ONLY then - tells you that you forgot to fill out the green form (Form G7.2 to be precise) it reduces the officer’s felt stress.  But we know leaders are elusive, which is why the “leadership industry” is booming. If all we get is a curt e-mail “reminder” sent by a bureaucrat and cc’d to our boss, it can really dampen our desire to do anything more than a firefighter. 

Becoming a firefighter is bad for our health. It signifies a learned helplessness response. That’s when shit goes bad and you just stop trying. The concept of learned helplessness was developed in the 1960’s. Here’s my interpretation of the groundbreaking research in this area by Seligman and Maire: 

Put a dog over two metal grates with a small fence separating them. Give the dog a small electric shock and what does he do? Right, he bounces over the fence to the other grate. Shock him there and he jumps back over. If you keep shocking ol’ Buddy he’ll keep jumping over the fence to the side that’s not pissing him off. Eventually, guess what happens? Buddy just lies there and gets shocked. That’s learned helplessness and it should sound familiar. 

Now that you’re good and depressed, let me tell you what to do about combating learned helplessness and the bureaucracy. Here are four ways to keep your love of the game alive. 

1. Have at least two support people on your “team.” These are workmates who really get it and who will allow you to scream, “This place is sooooo fucked up!!” Use your teammates liberally. This moves toxic stress out of from under your sternum where it will make you sick, and into the air. Whew, that felt good. Don’t forget to thank your teammate for listening to your agitated tirade. It’s also good for your health to be on the support team of a few workmates. What goes around comes around type thing. 

The next three are key components of the what behavioral scientists have dubbed the “stress hardy personality.” They are, challenge, control and commitment. 

2. Challenge. This is where you make it a game. You want to win the game, right? Okay, so, given that by remaining or becoming proactive you expose yourself to the bureaucracy, how can you not give them a chance to get you? 

That’s a question.

While they probably didn’t teach you this in the academy, make it your job to know more about the bureaucracy than the bureaucrats. Keep the forms in your beat bag or your desktop and complete all of them. Then, go 10-8 and do more work. Ha ha, I won. 

3. Control. Related to challenge, control is when you don’t give the bureaucracy a chance to ding you because you already filled out the green form. You took CONTROL of the things you could. It’s far less stressful to control those friggin forms by taking the initiative on them, than it is to let a bureaucrat send you a “reminder” e-mail. When you control your destiny you can just send two words back to the bureaucrat: “Already done.” 

4. Commitment. Keep your eye on the ball, son. The ball isn’t just your retirement package, it’s “the guy who first started playing this game.” It’s arresting criminals, returning missing juveniles, making positive citizen contacts and looking good in your patrol car. Remind yourself about the reasons you got into police work. Commitment also relates to your religious views, your community, your family and friends. These are what you’re committed to...not form G7.2. 

A story about depression from a cop.

I came across this article and got permission from the author to post it here. it's pretty damn good. 

--------------------------------------------

DEPRESSION; KNOW THE SIGNS

Published Date: 

Saturday, October 01, 2011

By Ed Anzore
Retired SFPD

My name is Ed Anzore and I am a recently retired sergeant out of Central Station. I retired 5 months ago and am now able to discuss my departure.  Ten years ago, I lost my brother, Charlie, to kidney cancer.  Charlie worked at Richmond Station at the time he was diagnosed with this disease.  To say my brother and I were close is an understatement. I never knew how much his loss affected me until this year.  I could write a whole article just based on our relationship, but that’s for another day.

About five years ago, I started to keep people at a distance.  This was everybody, wife, kids, friends, and co workers.  I never wanted to be close to anyone so I would never feel the pain I felt with the loss of my brother. I was doing this sometimes subconsciously. It was my defense mechanism which I thought was keeping me safe, but it was not.  In the last two years, I began to feel myself isolating from people and places.  I started losing the desire to go to events. Irritability started to set in and I did not understand why.  During the last five years, I was involved to two critical incidents, one on duty and one off, where three people lost their lives. Things started to go downhill and there was inner turmoil including anger in which I could not understand nor let go of.  My mind started to really go sideways.  When my brother passed, at the age of 52, all I could think about was I hope I make it to 52.  I was also the last male member of my family not to have a form of cancer. 

Fast forward to Sept of 2010.  I was assigned to the 1800-0400 at Central. I really started to lose interest in the job.  I rarely read reports completely unless it was very serious as my concentration was going.  I stopped wearing my vest and didn’t care if something happened.  I just didn’t care period!  I figured I had led a very good life.  I did not care about playing golf anymore and would tell my golfing buddies the very same.  I would even joke how much I hated people.  I would drive home at 4 am after work and on occasion go well over 100mph.  This is risky behavior, a symptom I later learned which occurs in people who are depressed.  It’s an action that makes you feel good for a brief moment, but cures nothing.   Thanksgiving 2010, my wife told me she thinks it’s time to put our Husky Rascal down.  He was with us for 16 years and a big part of our family.  So now I take him to be put down and watch the vet administer the injection to calm him down.  This was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do, losing another member of my family.

The following week, I’m in CPT for my dreaded week of updates.  Sgt. Mary Dunnigan was teaching a class from the Behavioral Science Unit.  Mary was talking about depression, and how we just sit on the couch and flip through the channels in our little safety zone, detaching from any emotion.   While she was lecturing, I realized I was doing this every day. I would get up around noon and sit on the couch until 4pm.  I would ignore everyone and just wanted to be left alone.  Of course, I did nothing about it because, “I could handle it on my own.”  Boy was I ever wrong.   So I continued going to work with my miserable, irritable and grouchy self. Everyone else must be the “pain in the butt because it certainly couldn’t have been me.”

December 2011, and I am at a Sharks game when I get a text from my good friend Norm Rice. My wife and I are scheduled to go on a cruise with Norm and his wife on January 8th.   On this day, Norm tells me he has been diagnosed with kidney cancer.  I know Norm because of my brother Charlie, and I say to myself, here we go again.   The one person whom I emotionally got close to is now diagnosed with the disease that took my brother; and the downward spiral began.  We went on the cruise and needless to say it was not the good time I hoped for.  There were nights on the ship when I would stand on the balcony thinking I could just throw myself overboard and nobody would know.  I have no idea why this thought popped into my brain. Later I would learn about Suicidal Ideation, (these are described as fleeting thoughts of suicide but no plan or follow through).     We came back from the cruise and things were the same,  more couch sitting and channel surfing, not really paying attention to or caring about what I am watching.  The desire to be at work is lessening daily. 

Now it is a month away from my 52nd birthday, again I’m sitting on the couch, and everything seemed to be crashing down around me.  I just broke down for no reason and started shaking.  I told my wife I couldn’t do this anymore.  My first melt down of my life.  Thoughts of suicide came back very intense.  I was so scared but I did not know why.  I had so much to live for, why were these thoughts coming up?  I was able to get a hold of Mary Dunnigan, who calmed me down and talked me through my crisis.  She was able to get me into see a psychologist first thing in the morning and I was able to sleep that night.

Even after seeing the clinician I continued to have a series of panic and anxiety attacks.   My blood pressure began to rise and my back and shoulders were always tight.   I ended up in the ER one night and my wife told me that I should consider retirement.  Well, here comes the dreaded 52nd birthday, and I have an appointment with my therapist and I tell her I’m ready to retire.  She concurs.   I walked outside of her office and another melt down of anxiety and panic occurred on the sidewalk.   I immediately get on the phone with the shrink who prescribes me an anti-depressant.  I barely made it home still not feeling well.  I then drive to work and went about ten miles when the third melt down occurred.   I somehow managed to make it to work and got through line up.  I went outside and got on the phone to call for help.  I made it through the work-day and as I’m driving across the Golden Gate Bridge, I started shaking again.  My panic and anxiety was at its highest.   I got home and called Kaiser Emergency and the on-call therapist calmed me down and then said, “Ed, you need to retire.”  Now three people have told me to retire, two of whom I really don’t know.  So I tell my wife, “I am done with work.”  The next day I walked into the Lieutenants office and told him this was my last day and retired two days later.  I received a lot of calls telling me how cool people thought it was that I just walked in and pulled the plug.  I laugh now because nobody really knew what was going on, but I didn’t have the heart or courage to tell them why.I am now retired and go to my last therapist appointment.  At the end, I ask the therapist what she thinks.  She tells me she believes I am suffering from PTSD, Posttraumatic Stress Disorder.   She tells me there is a PTSD retreat for first responders out in Inverness.   I again talk to Mary Dunnigan who gets me in touch with The West Coast Post Trauma Retreat.   I went through an hour intake with a clinician, who told me that I have suffered cumulative stress with some PTSD. I am accepted into the retreat and off I go in May 2011.My wife drives me out there and here I am with 6 other first responders suffering just like me.   The retreat is full of volunteer first responders and clinicians.  Every one of them has had their own critical incidents.  They have all walked in the same shoes.   From the minute I walked in to the time I left, I was treated better than any resort I have ever been to.   I went through six days of intense therapy and discussion.    I learned tools to cope with my issues if and when they come back.   I can only explain this place as the 8th Wonder of the World.  You are surrounded by professionals who really do care.  I walked out on Friday feeling a whole lot better and filled with a new sense of life.   I learned there are so many first responders that are in the same situation, yet there are only two places like this retreat in the United States.  I learned that it is okay to be prescribed anti-depressants for anxiety and depression as they are no different than any other medication for any other illness or injury.   I learned that the brain has a filter and after you absorb so many traumatic events in your life, the filter breaks.  My filter has now been repaired.   I also learned that I know if I take care of myself, I will be okay.

It’s been four months now since I have left the retreat.   I am in a much better place in my life.  My relationship with my wife is so much better.  My family life is so much better.  Life is so much better. I have been asked by many why I retired so young and what will I do with my free time.  I now volunteer at the WCPR retreat as a Peer.   I was asked by the peer coordinator if I would like to volunteer and I was honored and humbled.   To assist others in need who are first responders is priceless.  This retreat is truly magical.

If this story helps one person, or gets people to look at themselves, then I will be happy.   What you don’t realize when you are going through depression, is how it affects your family and loved ones. They in essences become victims too.  If you wish to talk to me or ask questions, please feel free to email me at edanzore@gmail.com.  I would also like to thank Sgt. Mary Dunnigan and Vince Catanzaro.  They took the time to listen and help.  For that, I am ever grateful.  For those in the SFPD, you are truly blessed to have the BSU and people who care.  Do not hesitate to use them