PEELING BACK THE LAYERS

Image Source: Etienne Girardet (Unsplash)

"When wounds are healed by love, the scars are beautiful." -David Bowles.

September marks Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. Last week, I shared several resource trainings that can assist you in becoming more aware of the signs when someone is struggling. This week, I will discuss how you might begin a conversation. A therapist I was associated with as an Illinois Firefighter Peer Support Team member described therapy as "peeling back the layers of an onion." As you speak with a peer, neighbor, friend, or family member - little by little, you ask them to open a layer. While vulnerability and sharing might never come to fruition, it is the direction towards which you are working.

Rewind to January 2014, when I began to have a mental health meltdown, especially at the fire department. My stress levels were high, and certain people knew which buttons to push that triggered me into a raging bull in a china shop. I knew something was wrong, yet I continued living this way. Around this time, I applied for a personal training position on a local college campus. I was fifty years old, and it was my first job interview in twenty years.

I met my eventual mentor/supervisor, Sue, who led me to her office. She opened the conversation by saying, "Come in here, my friend, sit down, and tell me a story." We discussed my work history, personal training experience, and a verbal quiz on what programming I would give to a hypothetical client. Before the interview concluded, I decided to peel back a layer and share it with Sue. I took a calculated risk based on her opening statement, "Tell me a story." I felt as if I could trust her, and I shared in the interest of transparency.

I told Sue that should she hire me, I wanted her to know that my stress levels were high. Little did I know I was struggling with undiagnosed PTSD. Sue reassured me not to worry as we all have our stuff. Before I left her office, I told her I would understand if she did not extend an offer of employment to a trainer with no experience. After all, she was building a personal training program at a new fitness facility. Sue said, I always keep the applications of those who impress me. Two days later, Sue called and asked me to join the team. I replied, "Really?" She answered, "Yes, I like your spunk."

I shared my struggles with Sue for two reasons:

1.    In my first 50 years of life, I never had an interview conducted how Sue opened the conversation.

2.    I trusted Sue, a stranger, implicitly.

A month after I started my new position, I attended the first Illinois Firefighter Peer Support training, which prompted me to seek counseling and begin my healing journey. As a peer support person, I always start a conversation with a peer by quoting Sue, whom I consider a friend.

Image Source: Markus Winkler (Unsplash)

I share this experience as one example of how you can begin a serious conversation with someone you recognize as struggling. This person may share in an authentic and vulnerable way. However, there is one caveat to peer interventions. As a new peer support specialist, I asked our clinical director, "How do I know when it is time to refer a peer to a licensed therapist?" She replied, "When you start to become this person's therapist."

Before you meet, have your referrals readily at hand. As you gain more experience with interventions, you will know when this individual's needs exceed your scope of training. Once recognized, refer. Should you decide to take one of the courses I shared last week - always follow the scope of practice outlined in the program. Your willingness to listen may draw them out from behind the shadows of the stigma associated with mental health issues (to share with you). If not, there is no set timetable except if they are at high risk of harming themselves. In this instance, keep them safe and call 911 for Emergency Medical Services.

If you feel nervous or stuck on how to establish rapport and trust, fall back to the words of my friend Sue, "Come in here, my friend, sit down, and tell me a story." Until next time -                                                                                   

Namaste,

Tim