When one enters the Fire Service he or she
joins a unique subculture. A show of
acceptance is to receive a firehouse nickname.
Now granted, not all names are flattering, but if it is endearing it
means you have made the grade. It just
depends on your reputation (hint, hint).
The following letter is written to my departed comrade using our
nicknames as only he could remember them.
Dear "Little
Dicky",
It has been over 16 years since we last
spoke and alot has happened during that time period. Your sudden departure from this Earth left
those of us on the department in a world of hurt, but our culture at the time
dictated that we suck it up and move on.
Not so for me Little Dicky. Several years later I still harbored ill will
towards the department because I thought they let you down, and did not help
enough. For years I carried this guilt
around as to why I could not see this coming, or what could I have done
differently. I never, ever have been
angry at you, just the department. Alas,
my friend as you will soon learn that anger was misdirected because at the
time, we were not equipped with the resources to aid us in our grief. I bet you laughed at each time I was in the
Chief's office getting lectured about my bad attitude. Something I laughed myself about from time to
time. Judy always reminded me that we
could live on her salary alone. As she
put it, mine paid for the house, and
hers the garage. I am so glad that I
listened to her sage advice.
As life would have it, I pushed onward and
upward, buried my memories, and did what was necessary to both forget and survive
your suicide. Again, our department
culture at the time mandated it. I was
told to lose the attitude or else. Back
then I just could not put a finger on what was my real issue at heart. I am sure you know that I was promoted to
lieutenant, and if you were still around you would have been likewise. The early years of my new position found me
being tested by my former blue shirt peers.
One of my biggest problems back then and even just a few months ago, was
the inability to effectively deal with conflict. I ruled by emotion instead of critical
thinking. Eventually I settled in and
settled down.
As time continued to march on, I earned a
diploma in Holistic Health Practice and even became a personal trainer. My goals are to help others live a more
healthy and balanced life, especially those of us around here who like to
indulge in milk shakes and every cake, pie, and cookie that comes along during
the holidays (Ha Ha). In order to take
care of others we must take care of ourselves first (physically and mentally). My intent was to establish my own business
and show others the way. However,
something had always held me back. It
nagged at me but I could not place it.
Here, Little Dicky is where I get down to the heart of the matter.
A few months ago I was asked to present
your story at a trauma and first responders workshop conducted at Lewis
University. To prepare for this event, I
had to re-live an unexamined life. The
15 minutes I was given on that day were the longest I could have ever imagined. What I thought was buried, resurfaced like a
raging storm. I looked into the
proverbial mirror and realized what had held me back and caused me angst all
these years: PTSD.
I also recently became a member of the
Illinois Firefighter Peer Support Group and completed initial training this
past April. During this class I hit my
breaking point with the PTSD and realized I was in over my head. I needed help to work through the mental and
emotional scars. I even convinced myself
that you took part of my soul with you on that fateful night, when in fact, I was only side tracked. However, with the help of a group of trusted
advisors that were assembled at my request to aid my healing (in the form of
Peer Support, counseling, acupuncture, and reiki) I am now living a more
balanced and peaceful existence. It is a
work in progress, but have made great strides in just a couple of months time.
They continue to teach me that it was okay
to experience these emotions and to cry about them. More importantly, they have helped me to
harness the emotions, confront them, and take the positive lessons learned to
pay it forward and help others in kind.
Just remember my friend, that throughout the course of history, in the
wake of any natural disaster there always, always is a rebuilding. I am now resetting my foundational supports
and it sure does feel great.
Now about this peer support group. I wish we had it back then as it would have
helped us to redefine our cultural thinking: that asking for help in the realm
of behavioral health is not a sign of weakness, but rather a show of courage
and strength. I am earnestly going to
work as a member to spread this message, and your story as a lesson learned.
In closing, I want to share with you a common thread that
my mentors (advisors) have taught me:
the greatest thing I can do right now is to let it (you) go. They are talking about the angst, guilt, raw emotions,
and ill will that I experienced and have never served me well. Therefore, I leave you with this greatest
lesson as only the Zac Brown Band can tell it.
The next time we talk will be when I see you on the other side. So, until then, rest well and in peace.
Your
friend always,
"Krusty"
PS. Somebody showed me your picture the other
day. Nice mustache (you know they are
back in style).
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