17-year police force veteran charges to the front lines of officer mental health
Horrific traffic accidents. Graphic crime scenes. Domestic calls involving abused children.
Police officers deal with these situations as part of the job. It’s a grim reality for which they have trained.
Over time, instead of getting used to such occurrences, however, officers can endure a negative effect on their mental health.
Statistics show that those in police work suffer depression at nearly double the rate of the general population, have greater rates of PTSD and are more likely to experience burnout, substance abuse and other mental health conditions.
“The tragedies that we're exposed to, a lot of them could result in trauma for the officers,” says Captain Ivan Osores of the Pinecrest (Florida) Police Department.
Rather than a one-off act of violence or other single triggering incident, he says, cumulative stress proves the most debilitating.
“With suicides, fatal car accidents, just death in many, many places,” says the 17-year police force veteran, “and the anxiety of having to keep looking over your shoulder, dealing with the criminal justice system, dealing with people when they’re at their worst.”
Yet acknowledging the problems law enforcement officers face remained taboo for years. “The existing culture used to be ‘suck it up,’” he explains.
That approach cost Osores dearly. Untreated anxiety led him to engage in unhealthy behaviors that resulted in two failed marriages. Only after he developed chronic panic attacks did he finally seek the help he needed.
“A therapist saved my life,” he says today.
With an advanced degree from FIU, the seasoned officer has put himself in a position to do the same for others.
Stepping up
Osores graduated in April with a master’s in social work from FIU and now serves with Miami-Dade County’s Multi-Agency Peer Support Team. The individuals in the group commit to being available to colleagues going through personal problems – such as relationship issues and poor health – caused by or made worse by professional pressures.
Officers recommended to the team must meet requirements such as completing a crisis intervention training and a second course that together qualify one to provide practical assistance to others.
But Osores chose to go a huge step further by investing two years in pursuit of the degree that leads to licensure as a clinical social worker. That education gave him the skills to diagnose mental health conditions and provide treatments backed by science.
Now, he offers support to police department personnel (which includes dispatchers and others) as well as to local residents. For example, Osores follows up with individuals and families in the aftermath of an involuntary detention (a “Baker Act”) of someone experiencing a mental health crisis to connect them with services and resources on the way to recovery. In October, he will begin an in-person support group for suicide survivors in collaboration with staff at Mental Health America of Southeast Florida.
He says his instruction in interviewing skills, in particular, prepared him to work with those in distress.
“What that class taught me was really how to be an effective listener,” he says, “listening with empathy and compassion, genuinely be curious about where that person is coming from to understand them better.”
Establishing rapport and trust is a critical first step to providing therapeutic help, agrees Nicole Neufeld, an assistant teaching professor in the Robert Stempel College of Public Health & Social Work. And, she adds, someone who has already walked in a peer’s shoes has “a sort of superpower that really facilitates that connection.”
Other courses in the program cover disaster behavioral health, social welfare policy and working with diverse populations, among other topics. Upwards of 80 individuals earn the master’s annually and go on to complete practicums and work in a variety of settings within the community.
“A good start”
Osores was the sole police officer in his cohort, and Neufeld applauds his and the county’s efforts to address the mental health of those in law enforcement.
“I think it's a good start,” she says. “I think we're just now seeing the importance of bridging the gap between mental health and first responders,” she continues, “but I think that there’s a long way to go.”
Mark Macgowan, a professor of social work and an associate dean in the Stempel College, works closely with first responders and agrees with Neufeld that more needs to be done even as he recognizes that police academies have begun addressing the subject as part of training.
And critically important, he says, is front line workers’ own growing awareness of their mental health burden.
“When I've spoken to younger firefighters or paramedics or even police, there's an understanding that they need to have access to resources or even self-care,” he explains. “I'm finding they're a little more attuned to that.”
Susan O’Mahoney Holtzman is the president and CEO of NAMI Miami-Dade, a mental health advocacy, education and support organization. She encourages more education so officers can self-recognize mental health issues early on and believes that speaking openly reduces stigma so that “getting help is not considered a weakness.”
And she adds that peer-to-peer support, such as what Osores offers, is both impactful and effective.
“By sharing our stories with others like us who have lived experience with mental health conditions, we help ourselves and we help others,” she says.
“That police and other first responders are sharing their lived experience with each other in order to recover from mental health conditions and from trauma is really an exceptionally positive step forward.”