How Do You Know When It's Time to Get Some Help?

I reckon that's something a lot of firefighters struggle with. There's always been this attitude in the job that we're the ones who help people, not the ones who need help. And while I think things have improved over the years, I'd be surprised if there wasn't still a fair bit of that thinking around today.

The problem is, it's not always obvious when things are starting to go a bit sideways. You might not be sleeping properly, finding it harder to switch off after work, or noticing that a particular job is sticking in your head longer than it should. Maybe you're drinking a bit more than usual, losing interest in things you used to enjoy, or developing a genuine hatred for people who whistle while they work. Before you know it, you're starting to understand the appeal of living alone in a shipping container on an abandoned cane farm outside Bundaberg.

And I think that's part of the problem. These things don't necessarily happen overnight. You might spend months sleeping like shit, getting annoyed at things that never used to bother you, or generally not feeling quite yourself. But because it's happened gradually, you don't really notice how much things have changed. You just get used to it.

I reckon that can be particularly easy in the fire service. You can go to something pretty ordinary, come back to the station and half an hour later you're sitting around the table arguing about something completely ridiculous. That's just how the job works a lot of the time. You get pretty good at putting things aside and getting on with whatever needs doing next. And most of the time that's probably a useful thing, but I do wonder whether it makes it harder to recognise when something has actually got to you.

To be fair, I don't think the fire service was particularly good at explaining this stuff either, at least in my experience. There were always plenty of posters about checking in on your mates, looking after your mental health and all that sort of thing, but a lot of it felt like box-ticking to me. I don't doubt the intentions were good, but sticking a poster on the wall telling us to check in on our mates didn't really teach me how to recognise when I needed help myself. I don't know if that's changed since, and I hope it has.

I remember when I was reasonably new in the job, I went to something that really shook me. It was probably the first time I thought I should actually go and talk to someone about what I'd seen. I'd been to plenty of jobs before that, but this one was different for whatever reason. It stayed with me, and I remember thinking that perhaps I should do something about it rather than just carry on as usual.

Unfortunately, the psychologist who I was referred to in my area had apparently just been caught knocking one out on a commercial flight. Allegedly right there in the window seat. Giving the old fella a pre-landing inspection. Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer my psychologists to have a fairly uneventful relationship with the aviation industry.

Side note: I can honestly say I've never even thought about pulling myself on any form of public transport. Apart from the one time on that overnight bus when I was 13, but I still used the onboard toilets. I'm not an animal.

Anyway, that whole situation put me off talking to anyone at the time. Which, looking back, was a shame, because I'd actually recognised that something wasn't right and was considering doing something about it. I can't say whether talking to someone back then would have made any difference in the long run, but I do think it's a bit unfortunate that the first time I seriously considered getting some help, I ended up talking myself out of it.

And that's probably the point I'm trying to make with all this. I reckon your body and your mind are pretty good at letting you know when something's not right. The trouble is, they don't always make a big song and dance about it. Sometimes it's just a quiet knock at the door. Maybe you're not sleeping well, you're a bit more short-tempered than usual, or you're finding excuses not to do things you normally enjoy. None of it seems like a particularly big deal on its own, so you keep going and assume it'll sort itself out.

But if you keep ignoring it for long enough, eventually it'll kick the fucking door in.

I think a lot of us wait until things have really gone to shit before we decide we might need a bit of help. Maybe we don't think it's serious enough, or we reckon other people have had it worse, or we just don't particularly feel like sitting in a room talking about ourselves. I can understand all of those things. But I also think there's a fair bit to be said for doing something about it when you first notice things aren't quite right, rather than waiting to see how bad they can get.

You don't have to be falling apart to talk to someone. Sometimes just knowing you're not quite yourself is reason enough. And if the first person you speak to isn't right for you, try someone else. There's no reason you have to stick with the first psychologist you meet just because they've got a certificate on the wall.

Preferably find one who hasn't been caught treating his one-eyed co-pilot to a bit of turbulence on a domestic flight.