The Associated Press had a story on its wire tonight, called "Stream of horrific crimes takes toll on town cops," about the child murder in Tracy, CA. For our purposes, we're going to excerpt just a few lines from the story. Because while we've talked before about the similarities in how police officers and combat veterans develop PTSD, here too is another similarity: how focus on the mission is paramount, and afterwards -- the grief sets in.
From the story:
"Police were especially stressed by the disappearance and murder last month
of 8-year-old Sandra Cantu. The department's sworn officers and staff pulled
2,966 hours of overtime on that case alone.And tougher than the intense work is the lull that follows, when the mask of
professional composure comes down and doubts, sadness and anger come
through, said Tracy police chaplain Dan Higgins."When they're able to focus on their jobs and do their part, they have an
outlet," Higgins said. "The hard part comes later."
In other words, personal grief and coping with the horrors of the work (be it combat or in this case, police work) can be set aside effectively, sometimes, mostly, to get the job done. The grief gets sublimated to or displaced by the job. And that's effective -- as a coping mechanism -- only so long as it lasts. Afterwards, when it's removed, the full feeling of the grief and the loss starts to creep back in, to the vacuum that's been created.
Again, from the story:
Detective Nate Cogburn worked 200 hours in two weeks in the search for Sandra and then for
her killer, the article said, adding:
"This meant little sleep, no breaks, a canceled second wedding
anniversary weekend in Napa with his cancer-stricken wife and less time with
his 10-year-old stepson.[Even though police now have a suspect,] Cogburn remains haunted by the case.
"I feel nothing in terms of a sense of relief or solace. I feel nothing but
devastation. Nothing," he said. "It is a good thing that we've identified a
suspect ‹ a good thing for the investigation, for the D.A.'s office, for
being able to close this case, hopefully for the family. But emotionally
it's a vacuum."
Earlier I've written on this blog about a WWII combat veteran who only "noticed" his PTSD in his 80s, when he was finally retired. In other words, when work was no longer front and center in his life, and in the vacuum that removing his prior, sustaining focus on work created, the nightmares and the cold sweats from combat flooded back in. Decades after his actual service. This story was told to me by the local veterans service officer, who helped the man to realize that what he might be struggling with was PTSD, and to get some help.
We all know about how combat veterans can seek to numb their pain, whether successfully or unsuccessfully, and perhaps only for a time, with drugs and/or alcohol. We need to also realize how workaholism, Type A behavior, and focus on the job -- even though warranted -- can also be a way to "keep the demons at bay." Unfortunately, when the focus changes, as it often will, in time, the vacuum that's been created when the main focus gets removed, can also exert a powerfully destructive pull on the individual. Drugs, alcohol and work -- we can use them all as ways to keep PTSD at bay, however temporarily. But ultimately, none will be completely successful, or produce thorough, functional results. Always better to deal with the issues involved, however painful, and however incrementally we might need to do so.
