A Letter to the First Responder Who Isn’t Quite Okay
Suzz Sandalwood| For the one who is in that in between space of "maybe one day I’ll talk to someone.....eventually"
Written by
| Seeking Veritas Columnist | | Sankarsingh-Gonsalves Productions
Hey!
Can we talk for a minute?
Don’t worry, not a full sit-down. Not a heart-to-heart with tissues and deep eye contact. Just a pause. A breath. A moment long enough to maybe get honest? I can almost see your eyes rolling now.
(For the record, yes: I am a deeply feeling, heart-centered human who is absolutely here for any full-on, soul-leaking crying sessions. If that’s where you end up, bring it. There’s no judgment here.)
But this moment doesn’t need to be that if you don’t want to. I just want to know how you are really doing?
Have you felt like something’s off lately?
Maybe you have been having some internal wrestling with your thoughts that has crept in at unexpected times, like when you are in your car after shift, or lying awake in the middle of the night. You know when you’re half way through an endless scroll of memes and news and noise and your mind floats off a little, recycling the days events?
Has there been a whisper in your mind where you have wondered maybe it’s time to talk to someone? It is common to have those thoughts and can be easy to shut those thoughts down with the usual suspects:
“I don’t have time.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“I wouldn’t even know what to say.”
“Other people have it worse.”
“I signed up for this.”
“I just need to get back to the gym.”
Maybe it’s not that you're even falling apart. Not completely. Not in a way anyone would notice. Maybe your patience has gotten shorter. Maybe your silence at home has gotten heavier. Maybe you’re wired and tired at the same time. Maybe the smallest things set you off now, and the big things barely move you. Maybe you feel distant, even when you’re right there. Maybe you’re still functioning, still joking, still doing the job, but something inside feels… disconnected, different.
Maybe you are drinking a little more than ususal. Sometimes these subtle shifts can be justified by the storyline of how hard your job is but let me ask you something. Do you remember what you were like when you first started this job? My guess is that you were super excited, eager, maybe a little nervous even, but this change you are experiencing now is not what you expected. You might even feel a little pissed off because of it. You might not have the words for what is going on. You might just know that you don’t feel like yourself anymore and you don’t remember when that started.
There’s no warning sign for “now’s the time.”
We expect warning lights, right? Clear signals. Alarms. Something we can read like a dashboard that says, Now. Now is when you ask for help.
But real life doesn’t work like that.
There are no checklists. No official threshold. No banner falls from the ceiling when you hit your emotional limit. You’re trained to push through. To tough it out. To function under pressure. You were taught to be the calm in the chaos. So when it’s you who starts unraveling, even quietly, it can feel like failure or something to hide.
Please don’t hide. Read that again. PLEASE don’t hide.
I have seen what happens to people when they try to ignore the symptoms of trauma, burn out and job fatigue. You are probably thinking ok here we go. Here come’s the you need therapy speech. The truth is I think we all need therapy but I am a little biased. Honestly though, I am not here to convince you to talk to someone, I am just here to remind you that you don’t have to prove your pain. You don’t need a crisis to justify being human.
What therapy really is (and isn’t)
Let’s get this straight: therapy isn’t about being broken. It’s not about spilling your guts or finding the perfect solution. It’s not about fixing everything overnight. It’s about space. A safe, judgment-free space to put the stuff you’ve been carrying alone. It’s about finally being able to say what’s been stuck in your chest. To speak the quiet parts out loud.
And I’ve heard them:
“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
“I hate my fucking job and I hate that I hate it.”
“I feel like I’m disappearing.”
“I just want to feel something again. Or feel less. Or feel anything that makes sense.”
And in between the big, painful truths are the softer, quieter ones:
“Maybe I just need to get outside more.”
“I started taking magnesium.”
“I thought more bananas and bath bombs might help it but it’s not.”
“I don’t want to be around people, but I’m lonely as hell.”
This is the real side of being a first responder, when the job doesn’t just take from your time, but starts to take from your sense of self.
Maybe it doesn’t have to stay like this
No one else gets to decide when or if it’s time to reach out for support. Not your partner. Not your coworkers. Just you. I get that a decision like that can seem so difficult. If the thought of talking to someone has come up more than once, if it lingers in quiet moments, or taps on your shoulder in the middle of the night, maybe that means something. Maybe it means your pain is needing to be witnessed. Maybe it means you’re ready to feel like yourself again. Maybe it means you’re tired of pretending this version of “fine” is good enough.
You don’t have to wait until you no longer recognize yourself in the mirror before you let someone in. In fact, we always hear people say “ reach out if you need someone to talk to” but this right here is me leaning in. I don’t want to wait for you to reach out when you have finally had enough or you are terrified of who you have become. I’m leaning in to you by way of this letter in this between space of wondering if you should talk to someone or wait to see if you can get through it. You don’t need to collapse before you deserve support. You don’t need to hit bottom to be seen. In this strange space between “I’m fine” and “I can’t keep doing this” something in you probably already knows: this isn’t sustainable.
And you don’t owe anyone a breakdown to qualify it. You’re allowed to want more than survival.
I will say it one last time before I sign off,
Please don’t hide.
Warmly,
Suzz
Next Week in 911 COMMUNITY
Focusing on wellness for first responders and their families is important. We know that those on the job and their loved ones can shift through a variety of complex life challenges and highlights along the way. What’s often overlooked, however, is that every first responder has its own set of unique needs. Police officers, firefighters, EMS personnel, and dispatchers all encounter different stressors, yet the systems in place for supporting them often don’t account for these differences. Next week, I’ll begin a two part series on how the wellness needs of each group vary, why one-size-fits-all solutions don’t always work, and how we can better tailor support to ensure everyone, no matter their role, feels seen and heard.
About the Author: Suzz Sandalwood is an RSW/MSW Therapist, Advanced Certified Clinical Trauma and Addiction Specialist and a Certified Grief Counsellor. She has extensive professional and lived experience in first responder, addiction, and grief communities. | Connect with the author: https://suzzsandalwood.com
