The pit in his stomach was growing, and he genuinely thought he was going to puke. He wasn’t at work on the scene of a TC. He wasn’t looking at photos of a gruesome homicide. He was home with his wife, having a conversation at the dinner table about schedules, upcoming responsibilities and kid stuff. When his wife asked him to start taking his son to playground soccer on Saturday mornings, that’s when the pit in his stomach formed. Nothing against soccer, or Saturdays, or his son. This nausea was simply a forward progression of the unchecked anxiety and panic that had been building for years.

It started when he joined the Mobile Field Force (MFF) about eight years ago. He and his academy mates had trained hard — and they all made the team with less than three years on the job, which was something to be proud of. He would never forget his first riot deployment. The skirmish line was tight, the brotherhood strong, the crowds were relatively calm (for a riot) and the new department-issued Tasers worked quite well, as it turns out. The second deployment was just as fun as the first, except for when a firework was thrown at his buddy … luckily, no one on Team Good Guy was injured. Fast-forward a few years, and the fifth deployment was no less fun than the first. By now, he and his buddies had been on the job about eight years. One had made the department’s full-time SWAT team. Another was a motor (tight pants were always his thing). Their other buddy was pushing a black-and-white as a patrol sergeant. And him? He was a school resource officer.

He was the first of his academy mates to get married and the first to have a kid. He and his wife agreed that the SRO position would be a great fit for their young family. The hours were reasonable, and he had weekends off — well, mostly off. He was still on call for MFF, the dive team, the collateral SWAT team and on call for his boss, who was trying to promote but didn’t know an effing thing, so just called him whenever he felt like it to solve the problems his own bosses were trying to solve so he could look good. Oh … and school-related acute political emergencies (APEs). You’re welcome!

The anxiety started a few years ago, after the second MFF deployment. When he was working, it wasn’t noticeable at all. The job was fun — often more fun than being home. But when he was home, and should have been focused on his wife and son, he found himself wondering what his buddies were doing. He chalked it up to nothing more than fear of missing out (FOMO). He would think about work when he wasn’t working. Not a big deal, that happens. He started going to work when he wasn’t getting paid, just to care for his gear and bullshit with the guys. Not a big deal, that happens. He canceled a family vacation a couple of years back because of SWAT week. Bad timing. Not a big deal, that happens. He canceled another family vacation because he was tired. Tired of people, mostly. Not a big deal … that happens. The following year, he paid for his wife and son to go on vacation without him. That absolved him of the guilt … mostly. No big deal, that happens.

The purpose of therapy is simple: to make you stronger, more resilient and more capable.

Back to the soccer conversation. He didn’t understand what was happening … had he eaten a bad breakfast burrito? Why was the thought of taking his son to soccer for the next eight weeks making him feel like he wanted to puke, run for the hills and scream at the top of his lungs?

His wife was supportive, thankfully. She didn’t punish him for not going on vacations. She didn’t get angry when he got called out for work. She didn’t mind when he chose to go to work to “get a quick workout in” or hang with the guys. She didn’t even mind that he hadn’t made a single parent–teacher conference since their son started school. The loneliness was tolerable — to a point. To this point. She couldn’t understand what it was about soccer Saturdays that had him all spun up and raising his voice. She couldn’t understand why he wanted to forfeit the commitment he had made to be the coach. He had dreamed of coaching his kid’s sports. They fought for the SRO position for this reason.

It was time for him to get help. It was past time.

Her: “Honey, I think you’re doing too much … maybe it would be good to talk to someone.”

Him: “Nah, I’m good. What do you mean, like a therapist?”

Her: “Yes.”

Him: “If it makes you feel better, I’ll go once, but I’ll be wasting their time. I’m fine, and there are plenty of guys who need that more than I do.”

I’ve been practicing as a police psychologist for about a decade now. I only see first responders, mostly cops and DA investigators. There has yet to be a cop who’s walked through my office door and hasn’t said: “It’s not bad enough,” “Someone has it worse,” “I am wasting your time,” “Someone else needs you more than I do,” “I can deal with it.” In 10 years … not one.

Let me ask you a question — when you get a physically observable injury like a fractured ankle, do you keep walking and running on it until it breaks? Do you wait to go to the doctor until you can’t walk or drive? Of course not! That would be careless, irresponsible and stupid.

So why is it that guys and gals in this profession won’t seek help until they are in the basement of their rock bottom? Why does it take a “broken ankle,” so to speak, before someone raises their hand and says, “OK, I’m ready!”?

I think its because, as a culture, we have pigeonholed therapy into this “thing” that is only for broken people, for those who need help and for those who are unable to dig themselves out of darkness.

That just isn’t the case. Yes, therapy has its place for folks who are in need of perspective, support and treatment. But therapy is also about making good people great. Think of it like doing regular stretching and PT to prevent the ankle injury from happening in the first place. The purpose is simple: to make you stronger, more resilient and more capable.

Therapy has many proactive benefits, including the ability to strengthen:

• Mental fortitude: The ability to persist and perform at your best even when facing challenges, setbacks and stress.
• Emotional intelligence: The ability to implement strong emotional management skills and understand the emotions of others.
• Situational awareness: The ability to quickly assess and adapt to changing circumstances.
• Decision-making under pressure: The ability to make sound judgments, act decisively when under pressure, and adapt to rapidly evolving and dynamic situations.
• Stress management: The development of effective strategies for coping with stress and trauma that impacts both the brain and body. This is essential for maintaining peak performance and well-being throughout one’s career.
• Commitment, purpose and perseverance: The ability to establish goals, execute a plan and persevere when faced with challenges. Purpose is a driving force in our profession and it’s easy to lose sight of the “why” in the midst of the “suck.”
• Self-regulation: The ability to control oneself and regulate your thoughts, emotions and behaviors.

In sum, therapy can help you go from good to great. You don’t have to wait until the idea of taking your kid to soccer practice sends you into a tailspin of panic or anxiety. It’ll creep up on you, little by little. Get ahead of it!