RETIREMENT - THE FINAL TRAUMA –
We have heard it so often before – a
retired correctional officer died in his home of a self-inflicted wound. There
is no age limit to this final trauma in life. There are no statistics who will
be next. He or she may be in their 40’s, 50’s or 60’s or in some cases, their
late 20’s or early 30’s. they either served in the military or worked hard to
become successful in whatever endeavor in life they chose.
Some live alone while others are at
home with the family, not giving anyone a clue what is bothering them inside.
They never found the words to tell someone how the pain inside was tearing them
apart. No one even had a clue that they were hurting so bad, they wanted to
die. It was always after the fact that they learned of their troubles, their
pain and miseries.
Rarely revealed before the moment of
truth, they remained silent and never said a word about wanting to die.
Some had a recent injury or personal
loss. Many suffered a personal crisis or divorce. Others suffered from
financial disasters or other events that took their life savings and retirement
hops away. Some had to pay the medical bills that were overwhelming as the job
caused so many injuries not including those that are invisible and mentally
exhausting.
Some had been physically or sexually
attacked or assaulted, leaving them with emotional scars nobody would see or
ask about. They experienced loneliness, depression and anger but nobody heard
them cry when they were all alone in a dark empty room somewhere where the
solace gave them a little bit of comfort in their darkened world.
An officer who went to work enduring
the everlasting pain and retiring thinking the hardest part of the journey was
over when in fact, it had just begun. Regardless whether active duty and coming
and going to do their tour of duty, they were afraid to ask for help. They were
afraid it would hurt their job, career and most of all, they were afraid to
show weakness. Mainly, he or she was just afraid to ask.
Some say that correctional officers,
like police or other law enforcement officers are control freaks. They like to
think they have control over everything in their lives. It is when they fear to
lose this control that they are most vulnerable. Having a job where they spend
so much time protecting themselves or others is a high priority, they spend an
inordinate amount of time together, bonding a brotherhood or sisterhood and
then go out and spend time with each other after work.
When they stop to realize that their
lives are deeply troubled, they withdraw and stay away from their family and
friends and slowly contemplate the concluding chapter in their life. In a deep
sense, they fear they are losing control. Suddenly, they stop socializing and
reaching out to others. They withdraw and silently fade away until they are
almost forgotten. In the end, they die alone with only God as their witness to
their sadness.
You see when you retire, you become
a person out of sight and out of mind. After giving twenty or thirty years of
camaraderie and service, you just fade away. The rate of correctional officer
suicides is no doubt higher than many other occupations. It is with little doubt that departments do little to
prevent this phenomenon. They stop caring about these retirees once they leave,
as they are indeed, out of sight out of mind. Perhaps, through default of the
situation, the retiree is no longer the agency’s problem or worry. After all,
they are gone. They are no longer someone to take care of or worry about.
After decades of structure and
guidance, these officers become lost. Some fail to adjust to the loneliness or
chaos the crept into their lives. Some find life unsatisfying after all those
years of service, pain and turmoil they find that their lives are empty without
all the trauma endured. While some adjust well, others fail and go unfilled in
their own expectations. Those who find useful hobbies, other employment, go
hunting or fishing find the rigors of the day possible and fruitful. Others
suffer endlessly.
Working a security management job
for such a long time can bring a sudden depression when the whole scenery or
environment is changed. Life can become unsatisfying and filled with broken promises of what life was meant to be for
them. With perhaps an occasional luncheon or dinner with old friends, the talk
of the workplace is dying and fading quickly. Life begins to lose its luster as
it was once before. The badge gets rusted sitting there on the beautifully designed plaque
with the badge and kind words endearingly engraved and the memories are slowly
giving way to the reality that you are now alone and that the “family” you had
at work is no longer a part of your life.
Stress and Anxiety hit them
unexpectedly, often due to the change of pace and the decades of unresolved
trauma. A retiree may have or begin to experience spousal problems, drink, fall
into depression–and commit suicide. there must be a link to keep these men and
women in our hearts and minds. We need to continue to support them when they
leave and go onto retirement. Abandonment is not an option. Unions and agency
heads of management must step up and contribute to this link and have
pre-retirement programs. They must continue to serve them in another capacity
but serve them none the less.
The benefits outweigh the burdens.
What is more important than helping retirees find joy after corrections. What
can we do to facilitate a good standing of maintaining good mental and physical
health, and following the steps to prepare for a wise and healthy retirement.
Few departments recognize the tremendous
impact retirement in general has on an officer. From practically the first day
in the academy, a cadet can tell you roughly when they will retire. At varying
times during their careers, they will maintain a focus on that approximate
date, which will become more and more concrete as they grow closer to it.
It has been suggested, however, that
one of the most vulnerable time for a correctional officer is that period
nearing retirement and the first year or two after. Before actual retirement
comes uncertainty—the uniform will be hung up for the last time. More pressing
on the officer may be financial fears, depending on pension or retirement
arrangements and individual debts.
The possibilities of employment
because of age and disability (in a real world) may be lessened. Far too many
departments still stubbornly refuse to recognize–at all–the role of emotional
trauma on police and correctional officers and make the disability and eventual departure a
living nightmare for some. paying attention to details can be exhausting but
the help available is limited, just not like before.
Officers cling to the belief, in
part based on truth, that they are part of a big “family” during their careers.
When they retire, they suddenly lose that “family.” In time, they may actually
become a nuisance when they show up at their workplace or gathering places to
join in coffee breaks. They are relegated to “retiree groups” that render some
camaraderie but can never equal the strong feeling of “family” they once felt
wearing the badge.
Far too many take with them, into
retirement, the years and decades of unresolved trauma and, suddenly alone,
begin to suffer the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder or similar
anxiety symptoms.
Lost and confused, they attempt to
stifle such feelings, not understanding these feelings are appearing “now.”
Some drink. or begin to drink. Others lose relationships or engage in reckless
behaviors. Some isolate and slide into depression. Average life expectancies
are low, for retired officers and traumatized
officers. A number, as the figures would reveal if you to look, choose to simply end it early. What is that telling
us? That we have successfully put a band aid on their wounds–until we could
sweep them away, forgotten.
