PTSD-Putting The Serpent Down © What has worked for me… (so far)
/PTSD-Putting The Serpent Down ©
What has worked for me… (so far)
By: Kirk Lawless
PTSD, PTSI, or simply PTS, no matter the acronym you use to label it, is brutal. It’s a bitch. It’s a heavy burden to carry, but by no means has to be a death sentence. It’s real. It’s an injury and it does something unique to everyone afflicted with it. Sometimes it manifests itself in physical pain. Nothing to be taken lightly or bantered about in casual settings. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard someone say, (usually during a casual conversation) “Oh, I have PTSD!” as though it was something to be proud and excited about. There is nothing exciting or glorious about something that haunts most like a fucking ghost!
Most folks suffering/dealing with it, generally don’t talk about it or show recognizable signs that they have it.
I’ll give you my limited take on it.
Personally, I rarely open up about it, but my mission in life it to help save a life or two by sharing my experiences, but I’ll share some things I’ve learned along the way. It has been a long mind-wearying road. I was officially diagnosed in 2011, following an up-close and personal gunfight that happened on 19 July 2009. The killing of a gunman was the catalyst for the downward spiral and end of my 28-year career as a cop. The killing was they say, “Is what it is.”
Search my name (if you care to) and you’ll find the story. What my department did to me, did to my family, and did “not” do for us after the shooting was the real driving force behind things that plague me to this day.
Prior to the shooting, I had accumulated plenty of baggage from doing “The Job.” Intimacy with death and violence and close calls that brought me precariously close to my own physical death, intensified my symptoms, already in abundance and piling up at break neck speed. I won’t rehash the symptoms (both mental and physical), but I can rattle them off with a great level of monotony.
Rule number one: Keep your mouth shut! After you do a little research and you find yourself ticking the boxes on the PTSD symptom checklist and you think you’re dealing with some “heavy shit” that you can’t handle on your own, do not tell your department (unless they have a proven track record of helping cops who need it and are brave enough to ask for it) Yes, it takes courage to ask for help, but sadly (as in my world) help was offered, the rug was pulled from beneath me and my department went on the attack (with zero help, and lies in abundance) to usher me out the door. So again, tell no one!
If you do tell and the department sends you to see the “shrink,” remember that once they send you, you are no longer the client. You are the patient. The department/city is the client, and they are privy to whatever goes on between you and the shrink. My advice in this scenario is a matter of self-preservation. Lie to them. Tell them what they want to hear. If you don’t, you’ll probably find yourself unemployed.
Of the PTSD checklist, I ticked nearly every box except for one. That box was about suicidal thoughts and tendencies.
Those who know me well will tell you that I will race you to a “gun job,” armed robbery, home invasions, burglaries. I am, admittedly an “adrenaline junkie,” The more danger I potentially faced, the more I reveled in it! You can’t operate like that if you’re afraid of the dark (and there are some cops who are).
I will caution you that if something is eatin’ at you and you seek out help, there are many folks chomping at the bit to help you and give you advice, but they come with strings attached (money and lots of it) and lots of them have zero idea about helping someone dealing with PTSD.
Personally, if they haven’t “seen the elephant” or “walked through the fire” I don’t trust them.
I’m not a therapist, psychiatrist, psychologist, or health care professional. I’m an old school cop, so from me you’ll get what you get straight from the horse’s mouth, with zero bullshit.
Fleeting thoughts about suicide or merely just wanting to die, I imagine are fairly common occurrences when depressed or feeling ultra-backed into a corner. If you start to spend quality time practicing your knot tying or formulating a plan as to how, when, where you’d do it … that is serious business and you should call one of the numerous hotlines out there and talk to somebody. I recommend Safe Call Now 206-459-3020 (They specialize in helping cops and first responders at zero cost. They have vast resources and can get you help in your area, and they are staffed by lots of first responders)
You can call me if you have nobody else to talk to (314-302-0511) and I’ll help you in any way I can. On that I cannot be more serious. Who publishes their number like that? I do!
How serious can it get? I spent nearly six hours on the phone with a cop in distress. He was driving to his “secret” spot where he was going to shoot himself. He had a body bag with him and knew that he’d in all probability, fall into it after he shot himself. He had postponed it by a week because the body bag he ordered was too small and he had to send it back and wait for a replacement that fit him (this time he had crawled inside and zipped it up to make sure it was a good fit) he knew that whichever cop found him would be someone he knew and he wanted to make it as easy as he could for whichever poor bastard found him. So yeah, this is serious. A caveat: I kept talking to him, offered to drive 200 miles to pick him up and drive him to a hospital where we could admit him as a “John Doe” so his department wouldn’t find out. He refused my offer, ran the gauntlet of cops and troopers I had looking for him (since he was determined to do it or make another cop kill him) and made it home. After a brief standoff, he agreed to go to the hospital and is still alive. We are still friends, but oh how he spat curses at me after forcing my hand. I told him he could hate me all he wanted, but he was still alive to hate me and I was good with my decision.
Suicide just transfers your pain and grief onto someone that you’ve left behind.
When I, like Ernest Hemingway, am suffering from a case of the “Black ass” my son, who knows me all too well, simply asks me, “Dad, are you thinking about hurting yourself, or killing yourself?” He rarely leaves me alone. I think he lives with that fear, as does my wife, and I know it wears on them. Were I to kill myself, I can only imagine the devastation it would cause my family, our kids, my father, our grandchildren. I’m blessed with lots of solid friends. I’ve shed the baggage of fake friends and surround myself with positive people. If I refer to you as “brother” or “sister,” you’ve become family whether you want in or not.
Things to do (or try), to keep the ‘Black Ass” at bay that have helped me so far: Remember, “Fear is a liar!” Like Satan “The Great Deceiver,” any inner voice telling you things like “The world, your family, everyone will be better off without you,” turn your back on it, it’s a lie. It’s the grandest deception. I’m still standing, and if you’re reading this, so are you, and that’s a good start (and I’m not asking for $19.95).
Remember; don’t tell anyone that you’re dealing with something so heavy that you cannot bear the weight of it by yourself, unless you trust him or her with your life. I’ve learned a lot about trust during my journey. Do not give the department a reason to “Baker Act” or “Red Flag” you (or whatever law they use to take away your gun and credentials). It makes zero sense. They take your duty gun, your badge; that does nothing to protect you. You might have a hundred guns in your house, knives, rope, shoestrings, pills and booze. Those actions aren’t about protecting you; they’re about giving those in power tools to get rid of you. Remember, it’s cheaper to host a fancy police funeral than to spend money on fixing us.
1. If you’re a person of faith, embrace it! I’m a Christian, but admittedly I cuss a lot and trust me, I know all the words. I carried a Bible in my patrol bag or briefcase while I was a detective and it wasn’t a good luck talisman. It’s not a coincidence that “Be not afraid” or “Do not fear” is mentioned in the Bible 365 times. Let that soak in for a minute, and remember what I said about fear being a liar.
2. Get lost in something. I’m a voracious reader, writer (if I’m not reading, I’m writing) I’m an artist, poet, and painter. I’m a half-assed guitar player, so I can get lost in that. Try it. Try anything.
3. As far as PTSD and loss of senses. I love music. The louder the better, noise-cancelling headphones are my favorite, but to enjoy them I have to be in a position that I can see my surroundings, especially if I can’t hear something sneaking up on me. I have discovered a device that allows me to listen to music without blocking outside sound, even while cutting grass on my lawn tractor. If the sound thing bothers you, may I suggest a product Z-Bones ™ the brainchild of a friend, Andy Limbaugh. They use bone conduction technology, and instead of burying a device inside your ear, they wrap around your ear on the outside and the speakers and microphone allow the sound to flow through the bone just forward of your ear (reminiscent of the old SWAT days, when we used ear and throat microphones for hands-free communications). I’ve been using them for a few months, and they work. They’re lightweight, rechargeable and are wireless compatible with most cellphone platforms. (These things are the real deal and really have helped me dial down my “hyper-vigilance) when I’m out and about.
4. Weighted blanket (self-explanatory) the weight of the blanket helps allow my body to sleep (although my mind never does) I don’t seem to toss and turn as much as prior to using one.
5. Medications. Use them as directed. Do not over medicate. I take lots of meds, but they don’t make me high, or numb. My body is dependent on them, as is my mind, and there’s nothing I cannot do because I take them. Most are ingredients for the so-called “suicide cocktail,” but don’t believe that is what it is. But, don’t be a dumbass and booze it up hard while on them. You’re just borrowing trouble and that can be lethal. A caveat, you can be weaned off most of them, but it takes a long time. I tried to do it myself and with disastrous result.s. Remember the only two drug withdrawals that can kill you is alcohol and barbiturates
6. I reiterate, “Don’t mix booze and medications!”
7. Street drugs. You’re “the cops” for crying out loud. Don’t add that baggage to your résumé!
8. Nature. Get out in it. It’s everywhere. Find what you like: mountains, the beach, and the woods. Personally, I get lost by stalking trout in the middle of a stream (mostly catch and release now). I was an avid hunter before my OIS. I still go, but usually pass on shooting (except for birds… and hogs. I hate those hogs. A lot)
9. Try to avoid “triggers.” That’s a hard one. I don’t care for fireworks, backfires, or New Year’s Eve celebratory shooting (in St. Louis that tradition is strong). Surprise parties are out! Peek-a-boo with a baby is OK. An adult would get punched in the neck for it. A toilet lid slamming is near the top of my list. For me there are too many triggers to list.
10. I suggest avoiding certain movies that I refer to as “spirit” damaging. I’m good with classics: Frankenstein, Dracula, Wolfman, I’m not down with movies about demonic possession, supernatural themes. I still enjoy westerns, police movies, high-energy military movies, violence and bloodshed movies don’t bother me one bit, because of “the job” I suppose (everybody is different).
11. Animals are a great help. I’ve had dogs. I lost my Irish wolfhound, Maddie and our golden retriever, Stella Blue last year. They always knew when I was having a particularly tough time. I miss them. I had a horse, Corrina, a magnificent animal, but I gave her away to a little boy who needed his own horse. His three sisters each had their own. I actually casually interviewed him and knew he was the one. That moment was bittersweet. My doctors were afraid I’d damage some of my onboard electronics should I get thrown (I did a few times) but eventually conceded and gifted her, which was a healing moment for me. If there is an equine program near you for PTSD folks, take advantage of it. Caveat: service dogs are a tremendous tools and great healers, but they take a lot of time and commitment, but after being off the job nine years, I’m going to take leap of faith and send in the paperwork because I think I’m ready. If you’re considering it, don’t jump in too quickly.
12. Hate. Try to let go of it. I’ve been working on it, but there is so much of it and for good reason (I don’t hate the man who tried his best to kill me) there are way too many wicked folks deserving of my hate. Some are dead, and the ones living are dead to me.
I hope this helps somebody out there, even if just one. My mission is to save lives and I’d like to think there are some people around because of me and what I do and what I write and how I write it. I’m living in my third act, so that gives me about 31 years to “get busy” (If God allows it).
You have my contact info. Please use it if you need it!
*PTSD-Putting The Serpent Down is an upcoming soon-to-be-released book.
Kirk Lawless is a 28 year, decorated, veteran police officer from the St Louis area. He’s a former SWAT operator, narcotics agent, homicide investigator, detective and Medal of Valor recipient. Off the job due to an up close and personal gunfight, he now concentrates on writing. He’s a patriotic warrior, artist, poet, actor, musician, and man of peace.
