Living and Working with PTSD
- Tracy Pellish
- 7 minutes ago
- 6 min read
By: Tracy Pellish
It was about five years ago or so and I was at Christmas dinner with my family. My niece was telling the rest of the family about an injury accident she had passed by with someone ejected from the vehicle. I listened to her describe what she had seen, upset and worried about those involved, knowing my face was saying “and?” Everyone else in the room looked to me for a reaction or explanation of the response, but all they got was my blank face. I could tell that they were put off by this and I can only imagine that they thought I was all but heartless. It was then that I realized I needed to talk to someone about my numbness.
Having done this job for over 20 years in a city with a high level of crime, I have taken my fair share of fatal accidents, domestic violence, murders, and many calls that are hard to even imagine, let alone speak about. With the exception of deaths of small children, there are few calls that gain a reaction out of me. I wish I could say differently.
I don’t actually recall anybody ever saying to me that I should not let my emotions show but for many years of my career I watched my coworkers work through every situation with ease, without any emotion showing through at all. They did not say they needed to take a break or talk about how they could not sleep at night or how they snapped at a loved one and didn’t know why. I also can’t say that I recognized anything about myself that would make me think I was not surviving the trauma just the same as they were. I will let you know though, PTSD is a sneaky bastard.
As I mentioned, mostly I was just noticing that I was numb to so many situations, both at work and at home. Had my niece been in that accident she was describing and injured, or even close to being injured, I feel safe in saying that I would have reacted much differently. Around the same time of this Christmas dinner, my mom was dying of lung cancer, I had lost other family and friends, and to all of that I still reacted with high emotions. What I was noticing was that I had no feeling to others, good, bad, or indifferent. I just felt numb and had absolutely no room for anything extra, even if it was something positive. Along with this, I was having trouble sleeping. Even if I was able to fall asleep, I was not able to stay asleep. Nightmares and sleep walking became a frequent occurrence. Over the years I had the usual nightmares of officer involved shootings or officers not answering their radios and being unable to find them. These new ones though were different and made no sense, yet they still woke me up with anxiety.
I was also finding difficulty in things I normally enjoy. I love to travel and have no fear of flying, but on one flight, the flight attendant parked the beverage cart right next to me and walked away, making me feel trapped in my seat, which triggered a small panic attack until I was able to move the cart away from me. When I look back on this, it sounds rather ridiculous to me. I never felt trapped in the plane that I was unable to exit as it was midair over the Atlantic Ocean, and I knew she would come back for the cart, but it still affected me. Basically, I knew I was scared or anxious, but I couldn’t really say why. My rational self said “everything is ok, what are you freaking out about?” and my irrational self said “who cares, time to rage!!!”
Generationally speaking, I fall into Gen X, and we aren’t exactly known for sharing our feelings or allowing our feelings to overcome us. Having been in the military and in a career field where I had to prove myself each day simply because I am female, I did not want to show any weakness. Because of this, it took me a long time to seek counseling but I have to admit that it has helped me understand some things. While being diagnosed with PTSD validated some of my feelings and actions, it still came with stigma. I compared myself to others, some that have been doing this as long, or longer, than I have, and wondered why my mental health was affected but not theirs.
Once I had come to terms with the way I was feeling, I contacted the VA to discuss my options. While some mileage may vary, I had not had any problems with them at that point so was not concerned with the treatment I might receive. I actually thought that it might be helpful to see a VA provider since the military and law enforcement both tend to have volatile experiences. Some of my experiences have been very helpful and have given me tools to help me cope. But as I approach my first appointment with the fifth therapist assigned to me, mostly this has just reiterated to me how different and misunderstood we are as a profession.
One thing that I believe should be recognized as unique to our situation is that we continue to experience our trauma and only add to it. For many others that are in therapy for PTSD, they may still be experiencing the effects but they have physically been removed from what caused their situation. Perhaps it is someone who was abused as a child and is now an adult, or someone who was assaulted months ago, or even someone that has been in combat but has returned home. In these situations, their trauma is real and no less than mine, but they are not continuously immersed in it. This has been something that has been difficult for me to explain to others, including therapists.
The obvious question, and one that I have been asked by therapists and others, is why do I keep doing this job? Sometimes I ask myself the same question and it’s hard to answer because I feel very contradictory. I mean of course I still need a job to pay my bills, that’s a given. But there’s more to it. On the one hand, at this point, I am definitely ready to retire from this job as I feel that I have taken enough bad calls. But at the same time, it’s almost like I have FOMO when I hear about some of the calls that happen on a day off or on another shift. I don’t necessarily want to hear people screaming in my ear but at the same time, it feels normal to me and is almost my comfort zone. That makes me sound crazy and it’s not something that I want to admit, but there it is.
I went into therapy with an open mind and knowing that I would still have to do my part. While I didn’t expect to be “cured”, I do think my expectations of healing may have been overly ambitious and sometimes I wonder how helpful therapy has really been for me. I know it has been the right thing to do but often times I feel like I’m trying to dig myself out of a hole and life just keeps throwing more dirt on me. I try to remind myself that this is a long process. It took years to accumulate the turmoil of others and it may take years to resurrect that girl I used to be. I know she’s in there and I look forward to seeing her again.
Hello there — my name is Tracy, and I’m a Communications Supervisor at a Bay Area agency in California where we dispatch both Police and Fire. I began my career as a cop in the U.S. Air Force in 1991, learning both sides of the radio, and have since dispatched for a university in San Antonio, Texas, as well as two agencies in California. I’ve been with my current department for 24 years and am slowly but surely creeping toward retirement. Outside of work, I love being creative through writing and crafts, diving into all things True Crime, spoiling my German Shepherd every chance I get, and traveling to discover new corners of the world.
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