My Heart Breaks for the Newtown Officer, But …

It’s hard not to get where Newtown, Conn., police officer Thomas Bean is coming from. He responded to last December’s massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School, where 20 children were among the brutally slain. He now has post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and can’t work. He says he feels dead inside.

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CNN reports that Bean might be fired because Newtown says it can’t keep paying someone who is permanently disabled. A letter CNN obtained from the police department said that “he could be fired because Newtown could only afford to pay two years of long-term disability. He has a dozen years left on the job before being able to retire.”

The union that represents Newton police officers may sue. Joe Aresimowicz, House majority leader in the state General Assembly, said the state covers mental healthcare only if the diagnosis comes with physical injuries for long-term disability claims. That mental illness can’t be covered without physical injury tells me there’s stigma busting to be done. It demonstrates a lack of understanding of how mental illness works.

But that — and the heartbreak I feel for this officer — isn’t enough. There’s a bigger issue at play.

When Bean joined the police force, surely he understood, just as those who join the military do, that violence comes with the job. He knew the chances were better than average that he would someday have to go to a murder scene. To his credit, he responded to Sandy Hook on his day off. And obviously, this was not your typical murder scene. Twenty dead children. Even now, almost a year later, the thought of it brings me close to tears. So I can imagine his state of mind after seeing what he saw.

Many officers responded to the scene that day. Surely they remain haunted by what they saw, as well, yet they remain on the job.

That’s no knock against Bean. It’s unrealistic and unfair to assume everyone who experiences trauma should be able to bounce back in the same short period. But functioning in the face of trauma is something we rightfully expect from our public safety professionals. Otherwise, public safety would break down.

If Bean is permanently disabled and can’t do his job any longer, Newtown has to let him go. It sucks, but he should make way for a replacement officer who can do the job.

If it comes to that — and I believe it will — my hope is that Newtown supports Bean and others like him in other ways. A good start would be to get him the help he needs to put his life back together, including a good psychiatrist and career counseling.

There are no bad guys here, only victims. But as a whole, we have to move on.

Newtown tragedy

A Fellowship of Narcissists

A good friend whose frequent critiques have given me more ideas for blog posts than probably anyone else was at it again this weekend.

I made a joke about a mutual friend talking too much about himself. (I was busting balls. That mutual friend is really a humble guy.) To that, my friend the critic asked, “What about people who write about themselves all the time?”

Mood music:

He’s right. I do write about myself a lot. I do it for a specific purpose — using myself as a lab rat in the ongoing experiment of OCD management — but I won’t lie and tell you that I go at it from a purely humble, selfless direction. When people find my work valuable, my ego swells. Where there’s a big ego, there’s narcissism. I’m somewhat of a rare breed because I come right out and admit it. No one likes to admit they have narcissistic behavior.

My friend has a narcissistic streak as well. He posts a ton about his workouts, travels and job. That’s fine by me and everyone else, because he’s an interesting guy bringing good stuff to the table.

Many of our friends and colleagues are the same way. To varying degrees we have healthy egos and share a lot about ourselves, particularly on Facebook, Twitter and other social networks.

Social media is a lot like Middle Earth in Lord of the Rings. For us, the ring isn’t something Frodo Baggins wears around his neck. It’s the narcissism we each carry within ourselves. We are a fellowship of narcissists.

Not that I’m completely comfortable about that. I’m always trying to be a better person, and I know my sense of humility needs work. That’s what my faith tells me. That’s what my recovery program tells me.

But knowing and practicing are two different things.

It’s something I’ll keep working on. For now, I take comfort in knowing I’m not traveling this road alone.

Naturally Yours Narcissist: Savage Chickens

Honor the Mental Sacrifice Veterans Have Made

With another Veterans Day upon us, I want to thank our servicemen and -women for a very specific sacrifice they’ve made.

Mental sacrifice is always implied when we thank our veterans for the larger sacrifice of life and limb to protect our freedom. That’s as it should be. Still, as someone who has never seen combat but has struggled with mental illness, I’m especially grateful to troops past and present for carrying the mental burden.

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I have many friends who have served in the military and have seen combat. They’ve been shot at, lost limbs and lost buddies they served with. They suffer with depression, addiction and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

I wish they could have been spared all that. But I hope they can get some satisfaction and even happiness in knowing that they raised the profile of mental illness as a scourge to be confronted more than perhaps anyone else could have.

Soldiers are known for their courage, and when that courage extends to confronting mental maladies left by war, they are breaking stigmas that have held us all back.

Amid the last decade’s War on Terrorism, we saw an alarming rise in suicide among those who came home and couldn’t reconcile their former lives with where they had been and what they had seen. We saw a lot of troops struggling with depression as they came to terms with the loss of arms and legs. Many of them shared their struggles publicly and, in the process, showed us all how to move beyond adversity toward something better.

One example that sticks with me is that of U.S. Marine Clay Hunt. He survived Iraq and Afghanistan but ultimately fell to depression, taking his life in 2011 at the young age of 28.

Before he lost his battle with depression, though, he managed to help countless people suffering with the same disease. As James Dao wrote in a New York Time‘s blog post, “News of Mr. Hunt’s death has ricocheted through the veterans’ world as a grim reminder of the emotional and psychological strains of war — and of the government’s inability to stem military and veteran suicides, which have climbed steadily in the decade since the 9/11 attacks.”

Despite the ravages of PTSD, Hunt threw himself into volunteer work. Dao wrote that he built bikes for Ride 2 Recovery, a rehabilitation program for injured veterans. He journeyed to Haiti and Chile with Team Rubicon to help organize events for Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America (IAVA) and appeared in a public service announcement encouraging veterans to seek help for mental health problems.

Despite how his life ended, I hope his friends and family know how much he did to fight the mental illness stigma.

I want to thank him and all the other veterans who have taken arms against the enemy of the mind. Peace be with you all.

atwar-clay-hunt-articleInline
Clay Hunt participating in a 2010 Florida ride with the Ride 2 Recovery veterans organization. Hunt, who was active in various public service groups, took his own life in March 2011. Photo by the Associated Press

OC/DC

A while back I mentioned a problem I was having with my guitars, a problem only someone with OCD would have. Yesterday, a buddy shared a cartoon that illustrates another problem I could find myself dealing with if I ever decide to play live again:

OCD guitarist

Well, that wouldn’t really happen. But it made me laugh.

I think that the title should read OC/DC, however. I get the need to have O-C-D together. But it just doesn’t look right if it’s going to be a tribute to AC/DC.

Respectful Disagreement about the Valley Patriot

In recent months, I’ve taken the editor of one of my local newspapers to task over what I’ve seen as his overeagerness to make judgement calls.

I unfollowed Tom Duggan on Facebook at one point because I was so pissed off. Duggan and I have since had a conversation, and I want to make sure everyone understands this: I stand by my earlier criticisms. But it was in no way meant as a personal attack. In fact, I have much respect for Duggan and believe he gets it right most of the time.

Mood music:

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Let’s go back a bit in time for some context.

Duggan reached out to me after I wrote this post on the case of Erin Cox, a North Andover High senior who was punished for being at a drinking party police busted up a few weeks ago. I argued that Duggan rushed to judgement when he published an article saying Cox appeared in court on drinking charges, which turned out to be untrue.

A few months before that, I blasted him for what I saw as his overeagerness in reporting the death toll of the Boston Marathon bombings. As is usually the case in the madness of collecting breaking news, Duggan received information on the death toll that turned out to be inflated. He corrected his information as it came in. But I felt — and still do — that he was in too much of a hurry to get the news first and that he should have waited for better confirmation before blasting details all over Facebook.

In both stories, Duggan believes I took him out of context, that I unfairly painted him as a rogue editor making things up and inflating details for the hell of it. He said he had no problem with criticism as long as it was fair and not based on spliced-together bits designed to paint him in an untrue light.

So let’s clarify some things:

This isn’t about splicing details together in a manner that fits the point I want to make. It’s about my reaction to his work as it unfolded on social media.

Duggan has done a lot of good around these parts. I worked at the Eagle-Tribune for nearly five years and know that the paper was in need of real competition. I was happy to see the Valley Patriot emerge as a check on my former employer. I actually think it made the Eagle-Tribune a better paper.

Duggan has a lot of heart and a passion to get it right. My problem in recent months wasn’t that he spread lies. He didn’t. It was that he got too excitable in the face of breaking news and rushed out information that needed more verification.

As someone who has been on the receiving end of criticism many times in my career, I know it’s no fun. But I have to call it as I see it.

But understand this: When I criticize Duggan, I do so with respect for all he’s done for the community.

Hat with Press tag

Illustrating the Red Sox Nation

Yesterday I was sick all day. At one point, I watched little bits of nonsense on YouTube, waiting for my brain function and motor skills to wake up. Humor can be as good as the strongest cup of coffee on days like this.

Below is something that truly captures the special characteristics of Boston Red Sox fans. It’s a pretty good reflection of Bostonians, period. I say this with total affection. I’m not as rabid a sports fan as many in this town, but I am a product of Boston and see some of myself in this clip.

It’s a MasterCard commercial spoof, in which rabid Red Sox fans list all the precious things they’d part with if the Sox were to win the World Series, as of course they did. This actually followed the Sox’s 2004 World Series win and is making the rounds again in the wake of the team’s 2013 win.

After the win, it’s time to pay the piper, and the results are indeed “priceless.”

Denis Leary, Sox commercial

Therapist Shopping

A few months ago my therapist retired and moved to warmer environs in the south. He said I was managing my OCD well and that I didn’t need therapy until the autumn.

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That last appointment was in the spring, with the season’s increasingly long periods of daylight, the environment I function best in.

Now it’s late October, with shorter days, and the seasonal issues are starting to kick in. Sunday I started getting chest pains and Monday I was breaking out in a sweat for no good reason. I’m familiar with these symptoms. It usually starts as heartburn and then my OCD runs wild with thoughts that I might be having a heart attack. When that worry increases, the sweat appears.

It’s a classic anxiety attack.

I used to get them all the time, but in recent years they’re few and far between. When I get one, it usually means I’m experiencing some big stress in my life.

I thought about what might be causing it. All in all, life is good. My wife and children are healthy. I love my job. Most things are status quo, except that we’re still helping the kids adjust to life in a new school. But that’s been an ongoing processes and hasn’t kept me up at night. So what’s the deal?

Of course, that’s what therapists are for: helping you yank out the underlying issues you can’t see on the surface.

I’ve been shopping for a new therapist for a couple months now. It hasn’t been easy. I’ve called several that I researched online. Most haven’t called back. The rest weren’t the right fit.

Fortunately, I have great friends looking out for me. One friend, herself a mental health specialist, is working her contacts and getting me names. From that list, I may have found the therapist I’m looking for.

Wish me luck.

patient therapist

Red Sox Player Jonny Gomes: Profile in Fortitude

I’ll be honest with all you rabid sports fans: I’m not much of a sports guy. While my peers were playing on various ball teams in high school, my recreation was listening to heavy metal, going to concerts and getting into trouble. In adulthood, I’m always happy when the Boston sports teams do well, but I don’t stay up late to watch games or banter with colleagues about sports.

I still have an admiration for athletes, especially those who rise to the occasion despite heaping piles of adversity. A good example is Boston Red Sox player Jonny Gomes.

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Since the Red Sox are my home team and are in the World Series, I’ve had plenty of opportunity to hear about Gomes. Here’s a kid who survived a car accident as a teenager while his best friend, who sat beside him in the backseat, was killed. Then, at the age of 22, he suffered a heart attack.

Yet here he is, playing professional baseball. In the World Series, no less. Tonight is game six at Fenway Park, and it could be the clincher.

When I was a kid fighting severe Crohn’s Disease, my fifth-grade teacher suggested I write to a fellow suffer: Rolf Benirschke, who at the time was playing professional football with the San Diego Chargers. He actually had severe colitis, a disease with many of the same effects as Crohn’s Disease. He wrote me back, and for a while we were pen pals.

Even at that early age, it was clear that I wouldn’t be getting into sports with the enthusiasm of my classmates. But the fact that a grownup had been through what I was going through and had made it to the top of his profession thrilled me and inspired me to stop feeling sorry for myself.

I also lost a best friend to a violent death and know how that can damage one’s soul. To get past that experience as a teenager, as Gomes did, is truly something to behold.

I’m pretty sure there are kids out there today who are being inspired by Gomes the way I was inspired by Benirschke.

May he enjoy many more years in professional sports.

Jonny Gomes on June 15, 2013

For Those Mourning Colleen Ritzer

I didn’t know Colleen Ritzer, the 24-year-old Danvers High School math teacher found dead in the woods behind the school this week. I also don’t know Philip Chism, the 14 year old charged with murdering her. But I’m affected by this tragedy all the same.

My first job as a reporter 20 years ago was at the weekly Danvers newspaper. Andover, Ritzer’s hometown, is where my kids go to school. It’s a town I know well as a Merrimack Valley resident and former editor at The Eagle-Tribune. I truly feel for everyone touched by this sad turn of events.

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We know almost nothing about the circumstances in which this happened. But we do know this is going to be hard for Danvers High School students to absorb. For a lot of these kids, it’s probably their first taste of death. Even for those with previous experience, the loss of a grandparent, for example, this is likely something new and terrible. The victim was young, not much older than her students. Her accused killer was one of them, a pleasant kid by most accounts.

I’ve experienced a lot of death in my life, including that of a 17-year-old older brother and a best friend who committed suicide. I’m not going to claim you get used to these things, but I have developed a six-point road map that I try to live by in these situations. I share it here in hopes that it will help some of you.

  • Let it suck. Don’t be a hero. If you’re feeling the pain from losing your grandmother, let it out. You don’t have to do it in front of people. Go in a room by yourself and let the waterworks flow if you have to. Don’t worry about trying to keep a manly face around people. You don’t have to pretend you’re A-OK for the sake of others in the room.
  • Don’t forget the gratitude. When someone dies, it’s easy to get lost in your own grief; there’s a self-pity reflex that kicks in. Try to take the time to remember how awesome your loved one was. Share the most amusing memories and have some laughs. The deceased would love that. And you’ll feel more at peace when you remember a life that was lived well.
  • Take a moment to appreciate what’s still around you. Your girlfriend. Your friends. If the death you just suffered should teach you anything, it’s that you never know how long the other loves of your life will be around. Don’t waste the time you have with them.
  • Don’t worry yourself into an anxiety attack over the fact that God could take them from you at any moment. God holds all the cards, so it’s pointless to even think about it. Just be there for people, and let them be there for you.
  • Take care of yourself. You can comfort yourself with all the drugs, alcohol, sex and food there is to have. But take it from me, giving in to addictions is nothing but slow suicide. You can’t move past grief and see the beauty of what’s left if you’re too busy trying to kill yourself. True, I learned a ton about the beauty of life from having been an addict, but that doesn’t mean I’d ever wish that experience on others. If there’s a better way to cope, do that instead.
  • Embrace things that are bigger than you. Nothing has helped me get past grief more than being of service to others. It sounds like so much bullshit, but it’s not. When I’m helping out in the church food pantry or going to Overeater’s Anonymous meetings and guiding addicts who ask for my help, I’m always reminded that my own life could be much worse. To put it another way, I’m reminded how my own life is so much better than I realize or deserve.

This isn’t a science. It’s just what I’ve learned from my own walk through the valley of darkness.

Life is a gift to be cherished and used wisely. Sometimes, it hurts. But that’s OK.

Colleen Ritzer

Erin Cox Case: The Rush to Judgement Is a Two-Way Street

Some say criticism of North Andover School administrators in the Erin Cox case is a rush to judgement. No one knows what information was revealed behind closed doors, they say. And based on comments from other teens at the drinking party, Cox wasn’t the innocent, good friend the media has painted her to be.

On someone’s phone there’s video of Cox drinking and puking, they say.

Maybe that’s true. But the rush to judgement is a two-way street, as the local Valley Patriot newspaper demonstrated yesterday.

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Earlier in the day, Duggan published a story citing anonymous law enforcement sources in North Andover who claimed high school student Erin Cox was to appear in court on charges of possession of alcohol and that her family was returning donations from supporters.

Hours later, Duggan was forced to retract the story and publish this one, which drops the first claim and retains the latter.

Other publications blindly ran with Duggan’s new information and looked stupid for it later in the day. This Yahoo! article at least captured the uncertainty of it all.

This isn’t the first time Duggan has rushed out misinformation. On the day of the Boston Marathon bombings, in the frenzy to be first with new details, he was on Facebook reporting an inflated death toll. He did so with the gusto of a football commentator announcing a touchdown. It’s an approach I’ve called him out on in the past. To his credit, Duggan pulled the original story and was honest about it.

This whole affair captured a human weakness we all share: We love to find things to get outraged about and then shoot our mouths off before we have all the facts.

I’m guilty of it, too. I once wrote a post defending Lance Armstrong amid all the allegations of doping. Then the facts came out and I had to admit I was wrong.

It’s always been this way, and it won’t change. We are, after all, human beings.

The best we can do is acknowledge that we rushed to judgement once we’re proven wrong. Doing so takes courage. Few things are as humiliating as discovering you’ve made an ass of yourself. But the truth always comes out eventually. The key is what we do with the truth once we have it.

Erin Cox