Around this time last
year I was in the beginning stages of healing from the wounds of post-traumatic
stress that had haunted me for over 16 years.
My cry for help finally came during the second day of the inaugural
Illinois Firefighter Peer Support training held in Bolingbrook in April of
2014. On that day I made a phone call to
initiate counseling with one of the best FPS therapists I know, and the rest is
a living history. Through a combination
of psychotherapy, acupuncture, chiropractic, yoga, nutrition response testing,
massage therapy, and reiki (Cody and I will touch on these topics as part of
the ILFFPS Holistic Wellness Initiative) I have become a more centered and
peaceful human being. Along the way I discovered that talking can be some of
the best medicine.
When I first began to tell me story in
that training class, I could not even get two words out before I broke down
crying. I was in the state of utter
confusion as to why something that I buried (or thought I did) in the deepest
recess of my subconsciousness had suddenly surfaced as a volcanic eruption the
size of Mount St. Helens. One month into
my healing journey, I stood before my FD peers in a staff meeting and presented
the ILFFPS post-training PowerPoint. I
remember having sweaty palms as I related my story along with the struggles of
the last 16 years. I also apologized to
anyone in the room that I either fought with or offended by my short fuse of a
personality. I was not trying to excuse
my behavior, but rather offer an explanation.
I walked away from that meeting with such
great relief knowing that I spoke with poise, did not crack my voice, or shed
one tear. Since that day, I have shared
this story several times with peers, in follow up trainings, at Rosecrance, and
most recently the Illinois Fire Chief’s Annual Symposium. Each of these
experiences has been different for me, but all have had the same healing effect
which contributes to my more balanced existence in this world. Given this, I am now going to share with you
my story as I experienced it almost 17 ½ years ago:
Sixteen years ago on a cold, damp, February
night, my outlook on life changed forever.
The alarm sounded at 1940 hours (7:40 p.m.) for a vehicle that had
exploded. My assignment for the day was
to drive the fire engine to the scene and make sure that water was put on the
fire. My heart began to race as I
thought, “This is going to be a bad one.”
Upon arrival, the Lieutenant, I, and another firefighter could see a
column of heavy black smoke rising (as black as the sky) from the rear of an
apartment building parking lot. The
Lieutenant and other firefighter (nicknamed Ski) pulled the hose line off of
the engine and disappeared behind the building into the night. Suddenly, I heard my Lieutenant shout in a
booming voice, “Get us water quick!!!”
Within a few minutes the fire was
extinguished and the job complete, or so I thought. The next thing I knew, an ambulance that also
responded, pulled out from behind the building.
I peered through the window and saw three medics treating a charred,
lifeless body that was pulled from a pickup truck that had exploded. My Lieutenant, who was driving the ambulance,
never looked my way as he sped off to the hospital. I thought this to be odd behavior as the
“Lou” always gave us additional instructions.
While I was picking up equipment, Ski
emerged from behind the building and said in a soft voice, “It was Little
Dicky.” Tears began to stream down my
face as I collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. You see, Little Dicky, a fellow firefighter I
worked with for the last three years, just committed suicide. It was determined that he poured gasoline
over himself and ignited it with a lighter.
One month prior, Little Dicky made an attempt to end his life, only this
time he was successful. After that
night, I realized that we are put on this Earth for a very short time and it
should be our life’s mission to leave the world a little better off than we
found it. Therefore, I developed a personal mantra that I try to live by each
day which is: “Every morning I wake up and realize that there are many people
in this world who want to be somebody.
I, on the other hand, want to be somebody who makes a difference.”
A big lesson that I have learned on this
healing journey is that it still takes a lot of hard work to maintain balance
(I continue to practice/receive my alternative healing methods), considering I
still work in the environment that contributed to the erupting volcano in my
mind. In one of my many discussions with
Matt Olson, he told me that in this job the hits are going to keep on coming as
long as we wear the badge. However, the greatest healing gift bestowed on
me during these last 15 months is being a peer supporter. Not only do we (as supporters) offer others
hope through our lessons learned, we also heal at the same time. After all, the more you tell your story . . .
the easier it becomes.
The Peer Reporter is an open forum for
learning from each other as well as those on the World Wide Web who visit these
pages. We are all members of this
fantastic team drawn here because of the experience(s) that have profoundly
affected us in different ways. I highly
encourage any peer supporter or therapist to share your story as well as how
being part of the ILFFPS has contributed to your healing journey. Send all submissions to timgrutzius@gmail.com.
Until next time-
Be well and stay safe,
Tim
No comments:
Post a Comment