Mind Over Mayday

Tag: health

  • A Shift in Mindset: Rethinking How We Use Healthcare and Emergency Services

    A Shift in Mindset: Rethinking How We Use Healthcare and Emergency Services

    At Mind Over Mayday, we focus on understanding the complex challenges that contribute to the stress and mental health struggles faced by first responders and healthcare providers. One of the greatest sources of this stress comes from the overwhelming demand placed on emergency services by patients seeking care that could often be addressed at lower levels of the healthcare system. In this post, I aim to explore this issue with sensitivity and balance. This is not intended to create division or foster unhealthy dialogue between healthcare providers and consumers. Instead, I seek to validate the shared frustrations of both groups and offer a starting point for solutions—grounded in education, collaboration, and greater transparency. By addressing these challenges together, we can move toward a system that alleviates stress for providers while ensuring patients receive the right care at the right time.

    From my experiences on both sides of the healthcare system—as an EMT in the field and as a technician in the emergency department of one of Maine’s largest hospitals—I’ve noticed a troubling pattern in how healthcare is sought and utilized. It’s a pattern that contributes to the overburdening of emergency services, and if we want a system that works efficiently for everyone, I believe it’s time for an important dialogue.

    Let me begin by assuring you that my observations come not from a place of judgment but from a perspective of both healthcare provider and healthcare consumer. I’ve been on both sides of the insurance spectrum: at one point covered by state-funded insurance (Mainecare) and now with private insurance. Both systems serve critical roles, but they shape the way we approach healthcare very differently.

    When I was on Mainecare, I had no out-of-pocket costs for any medical services. In theory, this should have been a great thing—it meant access to care without financial barriers. However, this also influenced how I accessed care. I often sought immediate and high-level care because, in practical terms, all options were “equal.” There was no financial incentive to weigh whether I should visit primary care, urgent care, or the emergency department; they all seemed like valid options in a moment of need.

    Now, with private insurance, I experience healthcare differently. I have to weigh costs carefully because I face varying copays: $25 for a primary care visit, $75 for urgent care, and $150 for an emergency room visit. This naturally makes me more selective. For non-emergent issues, I’m inclined to start with home remedies, over-the-counter options, or seek advice from lower-cost providers. The recent itemized bill from a minor surgery—$16,000, of which I had to cover $566—reminded me how costly healthcare can be. It’s a level of transparency and accountability that isn’t part of the experience for those covered fully by state insurance.

    This isn’t a criticism of those on state-funded insurance. In many ways, the system unintentionally disempowers patients by shielding them from the financial realities of healthcare. Without a full understanding of how services are billed and prioritized, people may not realize the strain that frequent emergency department visits place on the system. They may also not understand that arriving by ambulance doesn’t guarantee faster care—emergency rooms prioritize patients based on acuity, not arrival time or method.

    This lack of understanding often leads to frustration and dissatisfaction. Emergency departments are overwhelmed by non-urgent cases—patients seeking COVID-19 or flu testing, treatment for minor infections, or management of chronic conditions. These cases could often be handled more efficiently at primary care or urgent care centers, but many people either don’t realize this or face barriers to accessing these alternatives.

    So where do we go from here? The solution isn’t as simple as reducing access to care by adding copays for state-funded insurance. That would only create new barriers for people who already struggle to access care. Instead, we need a twofold approach:

    1. Enhanced public health education: We must teach people how to navigate the healthcare system effectively—what services to seek and when. This includes explaining how emergency departments operate and promoting the role of primary care and prevention.
    2. Systemic transparency: Patients, regardless of insurance type, should have access to clearer information about the costs and processes involved in their care. An informed patient is an empowered patient, better equipped to make thoughtful decisions about their health.

    The conversation around healthcare access and emergency service use needs to shift toward collaboration and education. Healthcare workers, public health officials, policymakers, and community leaders must come together to create a more efficient, compassionate, and sustainable system.

    To my readers who are healthcare consumers and providers alike: What are your thoughts on this? What changes would you like to see in how we educate and empower patients? Let’s open this dialogue and work toward solutions that benefit us all.

  • A Purpose Greater Than Fear

    A Purpose Greater Than Fear

    It’s not just the weight of the turnout gear or uniform,

    You carry the world like it’s something you were born for.

    The burden of sadness, running into the madness.

    Your aim to care, perhaps to save, but always to be there.

    You answer the call, minutes pass, you give your all.

    What others would fear, you exclusively draw near.

    The answers unknown, you doff your clothes and go home.

    There is never enough time, for yours or for mine.

    Our families, they know, when we’re called we must go.

    We collect ourselves all the same,

    Same mindsets, long days, same name.

    First responders, we have what it takes.

    The risk assessments, chaos management, high stakes.

    For us, it’s not just a job, it’s a calling.

    Afraid to call out, not afraid of falling.

    We know what happens when we’re not there,

    When one is lost, it’s a cross that we bear.

    In moments of crisis, we hear the cry for help,

    We put our training to the test, we do our work well.

    Say a silent prayer when you turn in for the night,

    Lest you forget, it’s for you we fight.

    Never forget we train to serve,

    Especially the calls when we’re lost for words.

    We will always do our best

    There’s no greater purpose than putting ourselves to the test.

  • A New Year, A Renewed Mission: 2025 Goals for Mind Over Mayday

    A New Year, A Renewed Mission: 2025 Goals for Mind Over Mayday

    As we step into 2025, I’m filled with gratitude for the journey so far and excitement for what lies ahead. Mind Over Mayday has become more than a blog—it’s a community, a conversation, and a space where first responders can find understanding, support, and encouragement. This year, my mission is clearer than ever: to advocate, inspire, and empower those navigating the often-overwhelming realities of life on the front lines.

    Reflecting on the Journey

    2024 was a year of growth, both personally and for the blog. I shared stories of resilience, loss, and healing, opening up conversations about the mental health challenges we face as first responders. I attended events, honored fallen heroes with the Maine EMS Honor Guard, and connected with so many of you who shared your stories with me. These moments solidified my belief that we need to keep the dialogue around mental health alive and growing.

    This mission is deeply personal. As a suicide attempt survivor, someone in long-term recovery, and a first responder, I know how critical it is to have support, understanding, and resources when navigating the mental and emotional weight of this work. It’s my goal to make Mind Over Mayday a resource that first responders turn to when they need connection, guidance, or simply a reminder that they’re not alone.

    Goals for Mind Over Mayday in 2025

    1. Expand Reach and Connection

    This year, I want to reach even more first responders. That means:

    • Partnering with organizations that share the mission of supporting mental health for first responders.
    • Attending conferences and events to spread the word about Mind Over Mayday.
    • Growing our online presence through social media, newsletters, and interactive content.

    I want Mind Over Mayday to become a place where first responders know they can find tools, resources, and community whenever they need it.

    2. Offer Practical Tools for Healing

    It’s one thing to talk about mental health; it’s another to equip people with actionable tools. This year, I aim to create:

    • A free downloadable resource guide with tips for processing trauma, building resilience, and maintaining mental health.
    • A series of blog posts highlighting proven techniques, from mindfulness practices to physical health strategies that support mental wellness.
    • Online workshops or webinars designed to help first responders navigate stress and trauma in real time.

    3. Elevate Voices in the Community

    Every first responder has a story, and every story matters. In 2025, I want to feature more guest contributors on Mind Over Mayday. Whether it’s a fellow EMT, firefighter, police officer, or dispatcher, this blog will continue to showcase the voices of those on the front lines. Sharing our stories helps break down stigma and reminds us all that we’re stronger together.

    4. Advocate for Systemic Change

    While individual support is crucial, the bigger picture matters too. This year, I want to advocate for improved access to mental health resources for first responders. That means:

    • Collaborating with local and national organizations to push for better policies and funding for first responder mental health.
    • Highlighting the gaps in the system and offering solutions through my blog and public speaking opportunities.
    • Continuing to normalize therapy, peer support, and other tools for mental health within our community.

    5. Inspire Through Vulnerability

    My personal journey is the heart of Mind Over Mayday. This year, I’ll continue to share openly about my experiences with sobriety, recovery, and the challenges of life as a first responder. Vulnerability is a superpower, and I hope that by being honest about my struggles and victories, others will feel empowered to do the same.

    Building a Stronger Future

    2025 is about more than just goals—it’s about creating a safer, more supportive world for first responders. It’s about leaving the job better than I found it and ensuring that the next generation of EMS professionals, firefighters, and police officers have the resources they need to thrive.

    This blog isn’t just about me; it’s about us. Every story shared, every conversation started, and every life touched is a step toward a stronger, healthier community.

    Thank you for being part of this journey. Your support means the world to me, and I’m excited to see what we can accomplish together in 2025. Let’s make this year one of growth, healing, and hope—for ourselves and for the people we serve.

    What are your goals for the new year? Let’s start the conversation. Together, we can make a difference.

    – Lacey Sawyer
    Mind Over Mayday

  • Is There a God? How Finding My Belief in a Higher Power Reshaped My Practice

    Is There a God? How Finding My Belief in a Higher Power Reshaped My Practice

    When I first entered the world of recovery, the phrase “Higher Power” felt foreign, almost unapproachable. In the early days of working a 12-step program, I wrestled with the idea of surrendering to something greater than myself. As someone who had relied on grit, resilience, and control to navigate life’s challenges, the concept of letting go felt like a contradiction to everything I knew. But I was desperate for change, and that desperation became the fertile ground where my understanding of a Higher Power began to grow.

    In the beginning, my Higher Power wasn’t a deity or a cosmic force. It was the people I trusted. My sponsor, the community of recovery meetings, and the friends who believed in something greater than themselves—they became the scaffolding for my faith. I borrowed their belief when I didn’t have any of my own. Their stories of surrender, resilience, and hope were my foundation. They reminded me that I didn’t have to know all the answers, and that simply trusting the process was enough to start.

    Over time, as I moved through the steps, something began to shift. It wasn’t an overnight revelation but a gradual awakening. I began to notice how prayer and meditation opened doors within me that I didn’t know existed. My prayers were simple at first: a whispered plea for strength or a moment of gratitude for getting through another day sober. Meditation, too, was a challenge initially—my thoughts raced, and silence felt intimidating. But as I continued to show up for those practices, I started to feel a connection I couldn’t explain. It was as if the act of seeking created a space for grace to enter.

    Around this time, I picked up Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth. The book articulated something I had started to sense but couldn’t yet put into words: the idea that we are all connected, both to each other and to a universal Oneness. Tolle’s exploration of ego, presence, and interconnectedness resonated deeply with me. It wasn’t just about finding peace within myself; it was about understanding that I’m part of something much larger. This realization didn’t diminish my individuality—it gave it purpose. I began to see the divine not as a distant figure but as the thread that weaves through all of existence, connecting us in ways both visible and unseen.

    Today, my belief in a Higher Power is an integral part of my daily life. Prayer and meditation are no longer just tools for coping; they are ways to align myself with that universal Oneness. Through them, I’ve come to see life as purposeful, even when it’s painful. Tragedy, I believe, is not without meaning. It creates opportunities for those who experience loss to transform their healing journeys into sources of strength and connection. When I reflect on the hardest moments of my life, I see how they have shaped my ability to empathize with others. My pain has given me the language to connect, the wisdom to guide, and the courage to share my story.

    This belief in a Higher Power has reshaped not just my recovery but my entire approach to life. I no longer see challenges as obstacles to be conquered but as opportunities to grow and connect. I believe we are here to support one another, to learn from each other, and to contribute to the collective healing of the world. This perspective has not only deepened my personal practice but has also informed how I approach my work, my relationships, and my advocacy for mental health and first responders.

    If you’re struggling with the idea of a Higher Power, I want you to know that it’s okay to start small. Borrow the faith of others if you need to. Begin with curiosity rather than certainty. And trust that the journey itself will reveal what you need to know, one step at a time. For me, finding a Higher Power wasn’t about adopting someone else’s definition of God; it was about discovering the divine within myself and the world around me. That discovery continues to shape me, and for that, I am profoundly grateful.

  • New Year, New You: Strategies for Overcoming Trauma, Reducing Stress, and Cultivating Mental Resilience in 2025

    New Year, New You: Strategies for Overcoming Trauma, Reducing Stress, and Cultivating Mental Resilience in 2025

    Introduction:

    The new year holds the promise of fresh beginnings and renewed hope, but for many of us, it can also feel like a daunting reminder of the unresolved struggles we carry. As first responders and individuals in high-stress roles, the toll of trauma and stress doesn’t reset with the calendar. However, the start of a new year offers a unique opportunity to recommit to ourselves—to our healing, our growth, and our resilience.

    Mental resilience isn’t about erasing the past; it’s about learning how to carry it more lightly. It’s about equipping ourselves with tools and strategies to face the challenges ahead, not from a place of depletion, but from one of strength and renewal. Let this year be the one where you take actionable steps toward mental well-being. Here are some ideas to help you get started.

    1. Embrace the Power of Acknowledgment

    Before we can heal, we need to name what’s weighing us down. Trauma and stress often linger because they’re left unspoken or unattended. Reflecting on your experiences—whether through journaling, therapy, or open conversations—is a powerful act of acknowledgment. It’s a way of telling yourself that your experiences matter, that your feelings are valid, and that you deserve to heal.

    While acknowledging pain is not easy, it is a critical first step. Remember, healing isn’t about erasing the hurt; it’s about transforming your relationship with it. Start small by identifying moments in your life that feel unresolved and sit with them gently. Allow yourself to feel, process, and, when ready, move forward.

    2. Prioritize Rest and Recovery

    One of the most overlooked aspects of mental resilience is the importance of rest. For first responders, who are often running on adrenaline and caffeine, rest can feel like a luxury. But rest is a necessity, not an indulgence. It’s in these moments of stillness that our bodies and minds repair and restore.

    Consider your sleep hygiene. Are you giving yourself enough time to unwind after your shifts? Are you creating an environment conducive to restful sleep? Simple changes—like dimming the lights, avoiding screens before bed, or developing a consistent bedtime routine—can make a world of difference. And remember, recovery isn’t just about sleep; it’s about finding moments of peace throughout your day, whether through a five-minute meditation, a walk in nature, or quiet time with a loved one.

    3. Learn to Regulate Stress

    Stress is an inevitable part of life, but how we respond to it can change everything. Developing healthy ways to manage stress is a cornerstone of mental resilience. Start by recognizing your stressors. What situations or thoughts trigger feelings of overwhelm? Once identified, you can begin to address them with intentional practices.

    One effective way to regulate stress is through breathwork. When stress strikes, try the 4-7-8 breathing technique: inhale for four seconds, hold for seven, and exhale for eight. This simple exercise can help lower your heart rate and bring you back to the present moment.

    Other strategies include exercise, creative outlets like painting or writing, and even laughter. Yes, laughter is a form of stress relief! Don’t underestimate the power of humor to lighten your mental load.

    4. Set Intentions, Not Perfections

    New Year’s resolutions often come with an all-or-nothing mentality that can lead to burnout or guilt. Instead of setting rigid goals, focus on intentions that prioritize your mental health. For example, rather than resolving to “never feel stressed again” (an impossible standard), set the intention to “respond to stress in healthier ways.”

    Intentions allow for flexibility and growth, while perfectionism often sets us up for failure. Give yourself permission to try, fail, and try again. Resilience isn’t about avoiding setbacks; it’s about bouncing back from them with greater insight and determination.

    5. Foster Gratitude and Connection

    Resilience thrives in the soil of gratitude and connection. Take time each day to focus on what you’re grateful for, no matter how small. Gratitude shifts your perspective and reminds you of the good that exists alongside the challenges.

    Equally important is connection. Resilience is not a solo journey. Lean on your support system—friends, family, colleagues, or a trusted mentor. Vulnerability can feel uncomfortable, especially in professions where strength is often equated with stoicism. But true strength lies in knowing when to ask for help. Let this year be the one where you allow others to show up for you, just as you have shown up for them.

    6. Celebrate Small Wins

    Healing and growth are not linear processes. There will be days when you feel invincible and others when you feel like you’re back at square one. That’s okay. What matters is that you keep moving forward, even if the steps are small.

    Celebrate your progress, no matter how incremental it may seem. Did you take a moment to breathe deeply during a stressful call? Celebrate that. Did you reach out to a friend when you were feeling low? That’s a win. Each step you take is a testament to your strength and resilience.

    7. Utilize Resources Tailored to First Responders

    As first responders, we often feel the pressure to “tough it out” and carry on without addressing the mental toll of our work. But the truth is, we all need support sometimes—and it’s okay to reach out. This year, take advantage of resources specifically designed for people like us who face trauma and high-stress situations daily.

    One invaluable tool is the 24/7 Debrief Hotline and Peer Support offered by Mind the Frontline. This service provides immediate access to someone who understands what you’re going through. Whether you’ve just come off a difficult call, need to process something that’s been weighing on your mind, or simply want to talk to a peer who gets it, this hotline is there for you anytime, day or night.

    Taking that step to call or talk to someone isn’t a sign of weakness—it’s a sign of strength and self-awareness. Let this be the year you embrace the help that’s available and prioritize your mental well-being.

    Challenging Negative Thoughts and Reprocessing Them

    Our minds can often be our toughest critics, especially when we’re dealing with trauma and stress. Negative thoughts can creep in and become so loud that they feel like the truth. These thoughts—whether self-critical, hopeless, or fear-driven—can keep us stuck, preventing us from fully healing. But the good news is that we can challenge and reprocess these thoughts, turning them into stepping stones for growth. The following practice has made a monumental difference in how I think about traumatic experiences, especially ones where I’ve questioned myself or my performance, and have held on to guilt or shame surrounding a negative outcome.

    Step 1: Recognize the Thought
    The first step to challenging negative thoughts is to become aware of them. Often, they run in the background like a looped recording. Pay attention to moments when you feel anxious, overwhelmed, or down, and identify the thought behind those feelings. For example, you might catch yourself thinking, “I’m not strong enough to handle this.”

    Step 2: Question Its Validity
    Once you’ve identified the thought, ask yourself if it’s really true. Negative thoughts are often rooted in fear rather than fact. Use questions like:

    • Is there evidence to support this thought?
    • What would I tell a friend who thought this way?
    • Am I jumping to conclusions or assuming the worst?

    Challenging the thought helps weaken its grip and allows you to see a more balanced perspective.

    Step 3: Reframe the Narrative
    After challenging the negative thought, reframe it into something more constructive and compassionate. This doesn’t mean ignoring the situation, but rather shifting the narrative to one that is kinder and more empowering.

    For example, instead of thinking, “I’m not strong enough,” try rephrasing it as, “I’ve faced difficult things before, and I’ve made it through. I am capable of doing hard things.”

    Step 4: Replace the Thought with Action
    Sometimes, the best way to combat a negative thought is to prove it wrong through action. If the thought is, “I’ll never make progress,” take a small step forward—something that counters the thought, like practicing a self-care routine or tackling a task you’ve been avoiding. Each action builds confidence and weakens the power of negative thinking.

    Step 5: Use Reprocessing Techniques
    For deeper work, consider techniques like Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) or Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT). These methods help you reprocess trauma and restructure the way your brain responds to distressing thoughts and memories. Working with a therapist trained in these approaches can help you make significant progress.

    Step 6: Practice Self-Compassion
    Remember, negative thoughts are often rooted in past experiences and learned behaviors. Reprocessing them takes time and practice. Be patient with yourself and celebrate even the smallest victories. Self-compassion isn’t a luxury—it’s a necessity for growth and healing.

    Remember
    Challenging negative thoughts is like retraining your brain to work for you rather than against you. It’s not about eliminating every negative thought, but learning to navigate them in a way that empowers you rather than holding you back. As you enter this new year, make a commitment to tune into your inner dialogue, challenge the negative narratives, and reframe them into something that aligns with your resilience and strength.

    You are more capable than your doubts may tell you—and you have the power to rewrite your story.

    Conclusion:

    This year, I challenge you to prioritize your mental health as fiercely as you prioritize the well-being of others. Trauma and stress may be part of our stories, but they don’t have to define us. With intentional steps, we can learn to carry our burdens more lightly and build the resilience needed to thrive.

    As you step into 2025, remember that resilience isn’t about being unbreakable. It’s about bending without breaking, healing without rushing, and growing without limits. Take the time to honor your journey, invest in your well-being, and embrace the strength that comes from choosing yourself—again and again.

    Together, we can create a stronger, more resilient community—one step, one day, and one call at a time.

  • Breaking the Stigma: My Journey Through Crisis to Wellness

    Breaking the Stigma: My Journey Through Crisis to Wellness

    The pager vibrates, the tones drop, the trauma alert is heard overhead, and the adrenaline rush kicks in. For first responders and healthcare workers, this cycle is the rhythm of life. We’re the ones who answer the call, who rush in when others run out. We’re the caregivers, the problem-solvers, the ones people count on during their worst days. But what happens when the caregivers need care themselves? What happens when the very people who are trained to be strong for others find themselves struggling? For far too long, the answer has been silence—silence driven by fear, stigma, and the unrelenting pressures of our professions.

    I know this silence intimately. For years, I lived it. I’ve been the one who brushed off my own struggles, convincing myself that asking for help would be a sign of weakness, or worse, proof that I didn’t belong in this line of work. There’s an unspoken rule in our world: “If you can’t handle the job, get out of the business.” It’s a mantra designed to weed out those who don’t belong, but it’s also a trap. It keeps too many of us—good, capable, compassionate people—from acknowledging our humanity. It kept me from acknowledging mine.

    The demands of this life don’t help. Twelve-hour night shifts, back-to-back calls, and an endless stream of people who need us—there’s rarely time to eat, let alone to seek out therapy or other forms of care. And when we do manage to carve out the time, the resources are often scarce. Mental health care tailored to the unique needs of first responders and healthcare workers is hard to come by. The general resources available are often ill-equipped to address the cumulative trauma and high-stakes pressures we face. It’s easier to push it all down, to tell ourselves, “I’ll deal with it later.” But later never comes—until it’s too late.

    That’s what happened to some of my colleagues. I’ll never forget the heartbreak of attending their funerals, standing shoulder to shoulder with others who wore the same uniforms, all of us asking the same agonizing question: Why didn’t they reach out? But I knew the answer. They didn’t reach out for the same reasons I hadn’t. The stigma. The fear of judgment. The crushing weight of shame.

    Those losses were a turning point for me. They forced me to confront the reality that even the strongest among us—the ones who seem to have it all together—can struggle to a devastating degree. I realized that if I wanted to continue doing the work I love—and to be the mother, friend, and colleague my loved ones deserved—I had to start taking care of myself. I had to stop seeing my mental health as an inconvenience or a weakness and start treating it as the foundation of everything else in my life.

    It wasn’t easy. In the beginning, I felt an almost unbearable sense of shame. Asking for help felt like admitting failure. But I’ve come to understand that it’s the opposite. Asking for help is one of the bravest things we can do. It’s an acknowledgment that we’re human, that we’re not invincible—and that’s okay. It’s okay because we matter. You matter. I matter. We’re irreplaceable in the lives of those who love us, and we’re irreplaceable in the work we do. But to keep showing up—for our families, for our patients, for our communities—we have to put on our own metaphoric oxygen masks first.

    Today, I’m no longer ashamed to say that I see a therapist, that I take psychiatric medications, that I’ve prioritized my mental health, or that I’ve set boundaries to protect my well-being. It’s not selfish. It’s survival. And it’s the only way I can continue to do this work without losing myself in the process.

    To my fellow first responders and healthcare workers: I see you. I know the weight you carry, the sacrifices you make, and the strength it takes to do what you do. But I also know that strength isn’t about pushing through no matter what. True strength is recognizing when you need support and having the courage to ask for it. It’s knowing that you can’t pour from an empty cup, and taking the steps to fill it—even when it feels impossibly hard.

    My Personal Story

    In 2023, nine months after giving birth to my daughter, I experienced a complete breakdown of my mental health. Despite the joy of welcoming her into the world, I was overcome by crippling anxiety. Scenes from my work in EMS bled into my personal life, filling my mind with horrifying images of my daughter in catastrophic situations—falling down a flight of stairs, being ejected from a vehicle, or succumbing to SIDS. These spiraling thoughts, compounded by sleepless nights, mood instability, and destructive behaviors in my relationships, pushed me into a downward spiral.

    Adding to the pressure of new motherhood—even as a mother of two—I felt I should be able to handle everything. I feared being judged as a bad mother, an incapable professional, and a burden to my family. I isolated myself, neglected my well-being, and lashed out at those I loved most. I stopped eating regularly, and the stress-induced starvation caused me to lose nearly 70 pounds in just nine months. I was physically and emotionally depleted, tempted to relapse, and teetering on the edge of complete collapse. Eventually, I reached my breaking point, culminating in a mental health crisis that led me to seek intensive treatment.

    I entered New Freedom Academy, a 30-day intensive treatment facility in Canterbury, New Hampshire, which turned out to be my lifeline. The campus was stunning—a serene environment with manicured grounds and beautifully maintained facilities that fostered healing. Clients stayed in comfortable dormitories and shared meals in a cafeteria catered by a private chef, featuring vegetables grown on-site. Daily activities included classes and therapy sessions in a bright and inviting hall, yoga and meditation led by outside instructors, and opportunities to explore the peaceful grounds. The program wasn’t a locked facility, which gave me a sense of autonomy, but it provided the structure I needed to begin my healing journey.

    Each day was carefully structured, with approximately five hours of group therapy modeled like classes. Topics ranged from substance abuse and codependency to self-love, CBT, DBT, and health and wellness. I met with a nurse practitioner to manage my medications, a licensed trauma therapist, and a case manager to coordinate care for my discharge. The staff, many of whom had personal experiences with recovery, created a space of genuine empathy and connection. It was transformational to know that I was not alone and to bond with others from diverse backgrounds—including veterans, professionals, and elderly individuals struggling with isolation.

    It wasn’t easy being separated from my daughter, but the staff reminded me that taking this time for myself was an act of love for her. Throughout my stay, my recovery community and family supported me from a distance, sending letters and gifts and arranging video calls with my daughter. What initially felt like a failure turned into one of the most empowering decisions of my life. I left the facility with a renewed sense of hope, better tools to cope with my mental health, and the realization that seeking help is an act of strength, not weakness.

    Returning home wasn’t the end of the journey but the beginning of an ongoing process. I worked with a psychiatrist to fine-tune my medications—a painstaking but worthwhile effort that required honesty and patience. I continued therapy, incorporating Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), a technique designed to help reprocess traumatic memories. In EMDR sessions, I was guided by a therapist to recall distressing events while focusing on a series of bilateral stimuli, such as moving my eyes back and forth or following hand taps. This process helped reduce the intensity of my trauma-related emotions and reframed my experiences in a less harmful way. It was difficult but profoundly effective.

    I also took steps to rebuild my physical health after months of weight loss and neglect. I focused on a well-balanced diet, reduced caffeine intake, began journaling, and started taking supplements to address high cortisol and oxidative stress levels in my body. I returned to running, meditation, and spending time in nature. I leaned on my recovery community, attending meetings and reconnecting with loved ones. And I started this blog as a way to process my experiences and inspire others to prioritize their mental health before it’s too late.

    Slowly but surely, I began to feel stronger. My journey is far from over, but I know I’m on the right path. I’ve learned that to give my best to the people who depend on me—my children, my patients, my colleagues—I must first give that care to myself. And if sharing my story can encourage even one person to seek the help they need, then every step of this journey has been worth it.

    The Mission

    The stigma won’t disappear overnight, but it starts with us. It starts with sharing our stories, breaking the silence, and reminding each other that it’s okay to not be okay. You don’t have to carry it all alone. There’s help out there, and there’s no shame in reaching for it. Finding and affording the right care can be hard, but it is possible if you deeply explore what is out there with the same fervent effort you dedicate to your career- because ultimately your performance at work, and the longevity of your career, depends on your wellness, and the ability to show up as the best version of yourself. 

    If you’re struggling, please know this: You are not alone. Your life matters. And the world is a better place with you in it.

  • The Challenge of Asking for Help: And the Consequence of Remaining Silent

    The Challenge of Asking for Help: And the Consequence of Remaining Silent

    First responders and healthcare workers are often seen as the people who run toward danger, chaos, and pain when others turn away. We are the caregivers, the fixers, the steady hands in a storm. But what happens when the caregivers need care themselves? What happens when the healers need healing?

    For a long time, I believed I had to be invincible. The unspoken rule in our world often feels like this: if you can’t handle the heat, get out of the firehouse, ambulance, or hospital. You don’t show weakness. You don’t admit to struggling. You push through. And if you can’t, there’s a pervasive sense that maybe you shouldn’t be in this field at all.

    These beliefs are not just whispers in our heads—they’re reinforced by the environments we work in. The long shifts, unpredictable hours, and the emotional weight of the job leave little time to process what we experience, let alone seek help. And when we do consider reaching out, we face limited resources, long waitlists, and a troubling lack of mental health services tailored to the specific needs of first responders. On top of it all is the fear of judgment: Will my coworkers see me as weak? Will my supervisors think I’m not cut out for this job?

    I’ve been there. I’ve carried the shame of needing help and told myself I didn’t have time to seek it. For years, I believed that asking for care would mean I wasn’t strong enough to keep doing the job I loved. It took the suicides of several colleagues—dear friends and mentors who I admired deeply—for my perspective to change.

    When Sawyer Coleman and Scott Latulippe died by suicide, it shook me to my core. I served with the Maine EMS Honor Guard at their funerals, and it was a challenge to remain stoic in my role when the gravity of their deaths moved us all to tears. These were people many looked up to, people who were thought of as unshakable. People who others relied on, whose families and close friends remember as being positive, humorous, and calm in the midst of even the most traumatic of calls. And yet, they were quietly battling mental health struggles that ultimately led them to making devastating and permanent decisions. Their deaths forced me to confront the reality that even the strongest among us can be brought to our knees by the weight of this work. It was a wake-up call—not just for me but for so many others in our field. It made me realize that ignoring our mental health doesn’t make us stronger; it makes us vulnerable in the most dangerous way possible.

    We need to ask ourselves some hard questions: What good am I to my patients, my coworkers, or my family if I’m running on empty? How can I continue to serve others if I refuse to care for myself? The answers are painfully clear. We are irreplaceable to the people who love us. Our children and families need us. Our colleagues rely on us. And to show up for them, we have to show up for ourselves first.

    That realization changed everything for me. I stopped seeing self-care as selfish or weak and started viewing my mental health as essential to my career. I began to prioritize my wellness in ways I never had before—therapy, support groups, time to decompress, and creating boundaries around my work and personal life. I also became vocal about these changes, hoping to break the stigma and encourage others to do the same.

    It hasn’t been easy. There are still moments of doubt and guilt. But I’ve learned that vulnerability is not a weakness; it’s a strength. Asking for help doesn’t mean you’re failing—it means you’re fighting to stay in the fight. It means you’re choosing to protect your ability to care for others by caring for yourself.

    The work we do as first responders and healthcare professionals is vital. But so is our well-being. If there’s one thing I want my colleagues to understand, it’s this: You are not replaceable. You matter—not just to your patients and your team but to the people who love you. Filling your cup first isn’t just an act of self-preservation—it’s a gift to everyone who depends on you.

    If you’re struggling, please know you’re not alone. There’s no shame in needing help. In fact, seeking it might just be the bravest thing you ever do. And if sharing my story can make even one person feel less alone or encourage them to take that first step, then every word I’ve written here has been worth it.

    Let’s continue to care for each other—and ourselves. Because this work, this life, this mission—it’s worth it. And so are you.

  • The Hidden Costs of Trauma: Understanding Cortisol, Oxidative Stress, and Burnout in EMS

    The Hidden Costs of Trauma: Understanding Cortisol, Oxidative Stress, and Burnout in EMS

    The life of a first responder is one of service, sacrifice, and often, silent suffering. Emergency Medical Services (EMS) professionals, in particular, are on the front lines of humanity’s most critical moments. While the physical demands of the job are evident, the psychological and physiological toll of repeated trauma often goes unnoticed, even by the individuals experiencing it.

    The Chemistry of Stress: Cortisol and Oxidative Stress

    When first responders encounter trauma, their bodies silently activate a fight-or-flight response, releasing stress hormones like cortisol. This reaction is essential for immediate survival, but chronic activation due to repeated exposure to traumatic events can have devastating effects on the body and mind.

    Cortisol, when consistently elevated, can wreak havoc on multiple systems in the body:

    • Neurochemical Impact: High cortisol disrupts serotonin and dopamine levels, contributing to depression, anxiety, and even substance misuse as individuals seek relief.
    • Adrenal System: Over time, the adrenal glands become overtaxed, leading to adrenal fatigue. This state leaves first responders feeling perpetually exhausted and can cause them an inability to cope with daily stressors outside of their work.
    • Immune System: Elevated cortisol suppresses immune function, increasing susceptibility to illnesses and slowing recovery times.
    • Digestive System: Chronic stress and high cortisol levels are linked to gastrointestinal issues, including irritable bowel syndrome (IBS), ulcers, and other conditions.

    Additionally, trauma induces oxidative stress—a harmful imbalance between free radicals and antioxidants in the body. This condition damages cells, accelerates aging, and increases the risk of chronic diseases like heart disease and diabetes. Oxidative stress is particularly concerning for first responders who often lack time for proper nutrition, hydration, and rest, further exacerbating its impact.

    The Ripple Effect: Physical and Emotional Consequences

    The cumulative effects of elevated cortisol and oxidative stress manifest in various ways, including:

    • Weight Gain: Cortisol promotes fat storage, particularly around the abdomen, leading to metabolic disorders.
    • Chronic Fatigue: The relentless cycle of stress and poor sleep quality leaves EMS professionals feeling depleted.
    • Depression and Anxiety: Neurochemical imbalances caused by trauma and stress contribute to mental health challenges.
    • Burnout: The physical and emotional exhaustion from unrelenting stress often leads to disengagement and a loss of passion for the job.

    The EMS Retention Crisis

    These physiological and psychological challenges contribute to the high burnout and turnover rates in EMS. According to the National Registry of Emergency Medical Technicians (NREMT), the average EMS career spans only 6-8 years, with up to 30% of EMTs and paramedics leaving the field within their first year. Many cite burnout, mental health struggles, and the physical toll of the job as primary reasons for their departure.

    The repercussions of this retention crisis are severe, affecting not only the individuals who leave but also the communities they serve. With fewer experienced EMS professionals available, the burden on those who remain intensifies, creating a vicious cycle of stress and burnout.

    Breaking the Cycle

    To address these challenges, it’s essential to prioritize the mental and physical health of first responders. Steps to mitigate the effects of cortisol and oxidative stress include:

    1. Mental Health Support: Access to counseling and peer support groups can help EMS professionals process trauma.
    2. Physical Health Interventions: Programs promoting exercise, nutrition, and sleep hygiene can reduce the impact of stress.
    3. Workplace Changes: Implementing shorter shifts, adequate time off, and mental health days can decrease burnout.
    4. Education and Awareness: Training on the physiological effects of stress and trauma empowers first responders to recognize and address these issues early.
    5. Integration of Supplements: Some supplements exist that can aid in reducing oxidative stress, and support overall cellular health.

    Taking NRF-1 and NRF-2 supplements can help combat oxidative stress by supporting your body’s natural processes for cellular repair and defense. These supplements work by activating key biological pathways that enhance the body’s ability to function optimally:

    1. The NRF2 Pathway: Boosting Antioxidant Production
      • The NRF2 pathway is the body’s master regulator of antioxidant production. By activating this pathway, NRF2 supplements stimulate your cells to produce their own powerful antioxidants, such as glutathione, catalase, and superoxide dismutase.
      • These antioxidants neutralize free radicals, which are unstable molecules that cause oxidative stress, contributing to aging and chronic disease. Unlike external antioxidant supplements, which provide a limited amount of antioxidants, NRF2 activation amplifies your body’s ability to create its own, offering more sustainable and long-term protection against oxidative damage.
    2. The NRF1 Pathway: Enhancing Mitochondrial Health
      • Mitochondria are the powerhouses of your cells, generating the energy (ATP) needed for every bodily function. However, damaged or inefficient mitochondria produce excess free radicals, further contributing to oxidative stress.
      • By activating the NRF1 pathway, these supplements support mitochondrial repair, biogenesis (the creation of new mitochondria), and improved energy production. Healthier mitochondria mean less oxidative stress, better energy levels, and improved cellular function.

    Combined Benefits of NRF-1 and NRF-2

    • Reducing Aging Effects: By lowering oxidative stress, these pathways slow the cellular aging process and decrease the risk of chronic conditions associated with aging.
    • Improving Cellular Energy: With healthier mitochondria, your body has the energy it needs to repair damage, recover from stress, and function optimally.
    • Enhancing Immune Function: Reduced oxidative stress supports a balanced immune system, which is crucial for managing the effects of stress and trauma, especially in high-stress professions like EMS.
    • Fighting Fatigue: Addressing mitochondrial dysfunction and oxidative damage helps alleviate chronic fatigue, one of the most common issues caused by prolonged stress and trauma.

    For first responders and others exposed to high levels of stress, taking NRF-1 and NRF-2 supplements can be a valuable tool in reducing the physical and mental toll of oxidative stress, helping them recover, maintain energy, and stay resilient in the face of daily challenges.

    For more information about the supplements I’m currently taking, follow this link! Protandim by Life Vantage

    Conclusion

    The cost of ignoring the effects of trauma on first responders is too high—for individuals, their families, and the communities they serve. By understanding the neurochemical and physiological impacts of stress, we can begin to address the root causes of burnout and create a more sustainable future for those who dedicate their lives to saving others. It’s time to honor their sacrifices by ensuring they have the tools and support they need to thrive, not just survive, in their careers.

  • Recovery in the Trenches: Navigating Sobriety in the Medical Field

    Recovery in the Trenches: Navigating Sobriety in the Medical Field

    When I stepped into the world of emergency medicine, I carried more than just a trauma bag and a drive to help others. I also carried my history—a story of survival, sobriety, and relentless hope. As a person in recovery, working in the medical field has been both a profound challenge and an incredible opportunity for connection.

    The Challenges of Recovery in the Medical Field

    Working in emergency medicine means constantly being surrounded by chaos, trauma, and moments that would shake anyone’s resolve. For someone in recovery, the stakes can feel even higher. We see patients at their worst—overdoses, withdrawal, and the physical toll of addiction. It’s impossible not to see pieces of my past in their eyes, and that can stir up emotions I thought I’d buried long ago.

    The medical field also has its own culture, one that doesn’t always prioritize mental health or sobriety. Stress is often managed with substances like alcohol, and “blowing off steam” after a tough shift can quickly spiral into unhealthy habits. For me, navigating this environment while staying true to my sobriety has required strong boundaries and an unwavering commitment to my recovery.

    Then there’s the stigma. While I openly share my story in spaces where it can help others, I know not everyone in the medical field understands what it means to be in recovery. Sometimes, I’ve felt like I had to prove that my past doesn’t define my present. But instead of being a limitation, my history has become a source of strength.

    Turning Challenges Into Opportunities

    One of the unexpected gifts of being in recovery is the ability to connect with patients on a deeply human level. When I encounter someone battling addiction or struggling through withdrawal, I don’t just see their chart or their diagnosis. I see their humanity. I see their potential.

    For example, when treating a patient who’s overdosed or in the grips of substance use, I don’t shy away from the conversation. If the moment feels right, I might say, “I’ve been where you are. It doesn’t have to end here.” Those words can be a lifeline, not just because they’re comforting, but because they come from someone who has walked the same path. I’ve seen patients’ eyes light up—not with shame, but with hope.

    These moments of connection are some of the most fulfilling parts of my job. They remind me that recovery is not just about staying sober; it’s about being of service. Every interaction is an opportunity to plant a seed, to remind someone that they’re not alone, and that change is possible.

    Self-Care as a Lifeline

    Recovery in the medical field has taught me the non-negotiable importance of self-care. Long shifts, emotional cases, and physical exhaustion can be dangerous for anyone, but for someone in recovery, they can be a slippery slope. I’ve learned to prioritize my mental and physical health—whether that’s through my morning and evening routines, regular therapy, or connecting with my support network.

    I’ve also found it essential to stay grounded in my “why.” Why did I get sober? Why did I choose this career? Reflecting on these questions keeps me aligned with my values, even on the hardest days.

    Breaking the Stigma

    If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that people in recovery bring unique strengths to the medical field. We know how to rebuild after hitting rock bottom, how to empathize without judgment, and how to find resilience in the face of hardship. Yet, stigma around addiction and recovery still exists, even in healthcare.

    By sharing my story, I hope to break down that stigma—not just for my patients, but for my colleagues. Recovery isn’t a weakness; it’s a testament to strength, perseverance, and the human capacity for change. The more openly we talk about it, the more we can create a culture where vulnerability is met with support instead of shame.

    A Life of Purpose

    Being a person in recovery working in the medical field is not without its struggles, but it’s also a life filled with purpose. Every shift, I have the chance to be a light in someone else’s darkness, to offer hope when it feels like all is lost. And in doing so, I keep my own recovery alive.

    For anyone else in recovery considering or working in healthcare, know this: Your past doesn’t disqualify you. It prepares you. The empathy, resilience, and strength you’ve built are exactly what the world needs. You are proof that healing is possible, both for yourself and for the patients you serve.

    Recovery is a journey, not a destination. And for me, this journey continues in the trenches—one patient, one connection, and one day at a time.

  • Vicarious Resilience: Finding Strength Through Stories of Survival

    Vicarious Resilience: Finding Strength Through Stories of Survival

    As first responders, we are often exposed to some of the most challenging moments in people’s lives. The emergencies we encounter can weigh heavily on us, leaving behind an emotional residue that is difficult to process. Yet, amidst the chaos and heartbreak, there is a profound gift: the ability to witness resilience.

    Vicarious resilience, a concept born from the field of trauma therapy, refers to the strength and healing we gain by observing others overcome adversity. For first responders, this can take many forms—watching a patient fight for their life and recover, seeing families come together during crises, or learning from colleagues who persevere despite the hardships of the job. These stories serve as powerful reminders of human strength, giving us the hope and courage to continue showing up, no matter how difficult the day may be.

    The Transformative Power of Resilience

    Each shift presents us with moments where resilience is on full display. It could be a child smiling through pain, a survivor expressing gratitude, or a colleague standing tall after enduring unimaginable challenges. These experiences are not just fleeting snapshots—they have the potential to inspire personal growth, foster empathy, and build a sense of purpose.

    Vicarious resilience is a vital antidote to the emotional toll of our work. It shifts the narrative from despair to hope, reminding us that even in the darkest moments, there is light. When we allow ourselves to absorb these stories, they can become tools for our own healing.

    Introducing: Stories of Strength—A New Interview Series

    To further explore the impact of resilience in the first responder community, I’m excited to announce a new blog series: Stories of Strength: Interviews with First Responders and Survivors.

    In this series, I’ll sit down with professionals from the field and individuals who have endured and overcome significant challenges. Together, we’ll discuss the moments that shaped their journeys, the lessons they’ve learned, and how their experiences can inspire hope and healing in others.

    Through these interviews, my goal is to create a space where we can celebrate resilience in all its forms. By sharing these stories, I hope to offer readers—whether they are first responders, mental health advocates, or anyone facing their own battles—a source of comfort, encouragement, and perspective.

    Finding Your Own Resilience

    Witnessing the resilience of others is a gift, but it is equally important to recognize your own strength. Each time you show up for a call, comfort a patient, or support your peers, you are embodying resilience. Take time to honor that within yourself.

    As we move forward with this series, I invite you to join me on this journey of discovery and growth. Let’s shine a light on the incredible strength within our community and use these stories as stepping stones toward healing and hope.

    Stay tuned for the first interview in the series—it’s a story you won’t want to miss.

    Together, let’s find strength in the resilience around us and within us.