Confessions of an Ass

This is not an apology, nor a justification. Maybe an apology is due to some, but once a bridge has been burnt down, neither have the interest or energy to build another. And it’s not a plea for forgiveness.

Post traumatic stress disorders are actually more like a disease than a disorder. Even though the definition of a disease “is a disorder of structure or function, that has a known cause and has a distinctive group of symptoms, signs and anatomical changes”. Not much difference in definition but a huge difference in perception. Disorder has a perception of “just get over it”, everyone has had things happen. In emergency services we have all seen bad things “just push through it”.

There is no getting over it or pushing through it, because there are neurological changes. PTSD changes the brain of those affected. Those neurological changes to the brain also affect other systems of the body. These can manifest into any number of conditions either from systems becoming hyper or hypo active. It can affect the heart, digestive and circulatory systems. The good news is that science has started to recognize how complicated PTSD is and has started to pioneer treatments targeting the entire body and not just the original trigger(s). The bad news is that science has just started to sort out a very complex disease. The perception of a disorder is scoffed at and minimized. The reality is that PTSD is painful, not only from an emotional standpoint but also physical pain. It affects eating, sleeping, social relationships. It isolates the afflicted. Not only does PTSD kill those living in so much pain they don’t see any other option to make it stop except suicide. It is also killing by throwing the entire body out of healthy perimeters and a healthy balance. Recently this has been recognized and more treatment programs are being developed by therapists, nutritionist and medical doctors working together on not just one aspect of PTSD but the entire patient. The complexities and how it affects each individual are just beginning to be understood by researchers.

So is this a long winded explanation about me being perceived as an ass or maybe in fact why I am an ass. Blaming my temperament on my Complex PTSD diagnosis. Maybe… Living with any disease changes people. I suppose some would argue that I was a bit of an ass before I was diagnosed with PTSD. My counter argument would be that I had PTSD long before I was diagnosed. I guess the actual point I’m trying to make is it is impossible to separate the person and the disease. You don’t tell someone battling cancer to “just get over it” or “just push past it”. At best you're empathetic and supportive or at worst sympathetic.

I am who I am because of all the influences on me from the time I took my first breath until this moment. The good and the bad and even the effects from the disease. I had a Therapist that explained how my childhood trauma had a direct correlation to me becoming a First Responder, my drive to be good at my job and my disappointment in those that didn’t embrace or fully understand my passion. I threw myself into the job because I felt useful, valued and I was part of a team. The Fire Service truly was family. The family I didn’t have as a child.?

The Fire Service also gives instant gratification. We know right away if we have done good or just fubar’d. I never felt deserving of the accolades and promotions so it drove me to study, train and work harder to prove myself or maybe to prove to myself. Any weakness’s I felt I needed to cover up. I couldn’t let anyone see the frailty under the mask. I believed in lead, follow or get out of the way and trampled on those that didn’t yield.?

When I look back at those that have left by suicide, I see now, the same traits in them. None of them would have been perceived as weak, frail or broken. They were hard charges, knowledgeable and leaders. I loved them and understood them. But it is only now I understand how similar we were. With the same pain and frailty behind the mask.?

Emergency Services has three types of people. The first are low profile, hoping no one sees them and eventually they’ll get promoted out of longevity. The second do the job, but it’s just a job. Then the third are chargers, get it done, passionate and innovative, they live it and breath it. These are the people that tend to carry the wounds. I’m not judging or saying one is better than another. Actually that’s not true. If you ask anyone I ever worked with that is from the first category. They will tell you I’m the biggest ass in the Fire Service. As will a number of people from the second category. It was those in the third category I wanted to emulate, that pushed me, mentored me and fueled my passion, those that I felt gave me their best and that I felt obligated to give my best. I have been very fortunate and have been surrounded by many in my career.

The issue with those in the third category is they live and breath it. For some it might be the adrenaline but for most it’s the satisfaction, teamwork and camaraderie. And for those of us that make it to retirement, one day it’s over. An identity that’s quickly lost and forgotten. For some it’s a time of rebuilding, renew relationships and build a new identity. For some confusion and loss. For some battling PTSD it can be a setback or a minimum new challenges.?

Retirement brings a set of new challenges or obstacles for those with PTSD. Talking about the good ol’ days, reminiscing about even the funny calls and stories can be triggers for me. As much as I love you all, I avoid the phone calls and invitations to get together because it can trigger nights of horrific nightmares. I really have no idea what will and what won’t trigger me. So it is much safer to be perceived as an ass and stay where I know I’m relatively safe.

Living with PTSD becomes a cat and mouse game, trying to avoid triggers. It takes a lot of energy trying to figure out what sights, sounds, smells and memories might trigger nightmares, negative thoughts, anxiety and physical pain. The retreat to where I know I’m safe is my survival instinct. To live in isolation is easier, safer than trying to be social and risking the consequences of interacting.

I have probably, most likely alienated family and friends outside of the Fire Service for the same reasons. It’s also unfortunate that the perception of PTSD is that it’s mental health crisis that makes people unstable and unreliable. Perhaps even dangerous. Or the other extreme that it’s an individual’s choice to have PTSD and it’s just to seek attention. While both of these views are false and ignorant, it’s difficult, near impossible to change perceptions based on ignorance.

I had a service dog that helped me through a very difficult time in my life. Helped me tremendously through the transition of retiring and relocating. She was my constant companion. My comfort and my rock. She was my family and was my link to the world. She protected me and served as an intermediary when I was in public interacting with the real world. Tragically she developed inoperable cancer and passed away. I was devastated, lost and confused about how to go on. I knew I needed to change my surroundings because the memories were too painful. So I packed a few things, headed to where I have some extended family and rented a condominium, in-order to sort out my next move. When I arrived I wasn’t met with any kindness or understanding. I was told by a family member?“it was just a dog and you need to get over it”. I was there for a few months isolated with little to no interaction with the family. I don’t know why, perhaps their lives truly were too busy to see me or interact with me, perhaps they’re afraid or angry because I refuse to “just get over it”.?

The family still lives in the area I grew up in. This in it self can be a trigger. Whenever I’m there I try my hardest to not let it affect my attitude or demeanor. Although, I know it has on a number of occasions and at family events. So perhaps they just perceive me as an ass, that they occasionally need to tolerate if I happen to pass through town. An embarrassment that is best forgotten or at least kept at a thousand mile distance.

I have left a trail of burned bridges. I poured myself into what I believed was a truly worthy cause that gave me satisfaction, rewards and the opportunity to walk along side some true heroes. There have been many times in my career, in my relationships and in my life I felt like I was Sisyphus, alone pushing the boulder to the top of the hill each day, only for it to roll back down and having to start pushing again. Many times I resented having to push alone without any help. Justifying my lead, follow or get out of the way focus and leaving bridges burning and in ruin. But now I’m alone with my thoughts and memories, still pushing the boulder up the hill each day. For some reason the failures standout and the successes are hard to remember. So now I wonder what’s next.?

For much of what I write, it’s not for or targeted to anyone. I hope for some it becomes a cautionary tale. Maybe for someone that can affect change, for some clarity and insight. For me it’s a release. A chance to speak even though there is no one to hear.

Steven Schreck