- Human remains and psychological impact on police officers
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- I Wish I Never Became a Police Officer
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You would think that these people have never read the Bible, or that they have never taken it seriously. The Bible teaches that Hell is a place of never-ending fire and torment, and my dear friend, that is not very much fun this truth has scared a lot of people. It is a place of tears and no hope.
It is darkness and loneliness. You won't be able to see anyone at all. It is eternal separation from God Himself. Since God is the Source of Joy and Happiness, that means that everything apart from Him is tears, sorrow, and no happiness. So my dear friend, for your own eternal safety, I pray that you will accept Jesus Christ into your heart today, and make Him Lord over your life. If you have done this, you need to find a Bible-believing church where you can grow in God's Word. And you also need to find out what God wants you to do with your life, so that you may serve Him.
Cop Appreciator in Moreno Valley, California. Jonathan in Brooklyn, New York said: I hope you realize your girlfriend was wrong. She should have stuck by you. SO's of cops, firefighters, and military have to serve alongside them. It goes with the relationship. Many Navy spouses do not see their SO's for months at a time. Same with their kids. But its the sacrifice you are willing to make to serve your community or country. Many women ARE willing to make that sacrifice.
Great idea in Las Vegas, Nevada. Both of you have a very noble and hard professions. I've been on the Police force for 17 years. I want to extend my thank you to joe boy for watching my family at night while I watch after others. I want to thank justagirl for helping my sister when she was an addict thanks to you she is now getting her Masters and helping others. Our jobs are very difficult. I can only hope for better days ahead.
But know that I have seen the difference we make as a whole hundreds of miles apart. Patsfan in East Sandwich, Massachusetts. I just recently retired as an Officer in New Hampshire. I have been offered numerous other LE jobs and I'm here to tell you that I will never ever put a uniform on again. It is not the public that makes the job so degrading but the administration. He sets double standards, one for him and his pals on the force and then another standard for all the others.
His list of accomplishments are distinguished. He got a NH State Trooper suspended after he begged the trooper to let him go on a Drunk Driving charge which the poor trooper did , has appeared in a sex tape involving one of his former dispatchers, has involved himself in extramarrital affairs and has been forced to leave all three New Hampshire police departments where he served as police chief. He surrounds himself with a few close friends, one of which is now his Captain from NH of course. How he got hired in Mashpee is beyond me as they obviously failed to conduct a proper background investigation, otherwise the above mentioned items would have been uncovered.
Oh, that's right one of his friends was serving as interim chief at the time in Mashpee. My point is, your career will be dictated by administrators such as Chief Rodney, do as I say and certainly not as I do. I am proud to have served but disgraced to have served under Chief Rodney Collins. To those who are looking and just have to take on the career, find a big city department, stay under the radar and click off your years. Hello, would like to speak to you about your comments.
You don't need to tell me your name or anything but I would like more information He did though hire back, Kevin Smith, who was terminated, by Sheriff Rhodes for stealing, while he was on duty. He also hired back another individual, who was investigated, for asking sexual favors, to not write a female a speeding ticket. Sheriffs Adams also in relations, with a female, by the name of Carroll Updike, who is thirty five years younger, than he. She has also slept with numerous Officers in the Sheriffs Office.
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How he made Sheriff is a miracle. Sheriff Adams was even investigated for having stolen farm Equiptment , on his property. For all Officers coming out of the Academy, Stay away from Politics and people like him. Hi, just noticed your post and not surprised. The nutcase was from Dinwiddie County at the time and the individual who you mentioned trespassed into Brunswick County the day after to call me a liar and defend the nut who stalked and harassed my family. The last I heard, the nut was demented in a nursing home somewhere. Cops seem to be getting worse.
In my town a few years ago , some cops in an unmarked car I didn't know it was an unmarked cop car at the time pulled in front of me on the road. I followed them to the light before taking a left on green.
Human remains and psychological impact on police officers
Then, I turned down another road with the signal on , and I saw their car in the rear view window. I fleed because I thought it was some hooligans or something didn't think that it was police , and I ended up running a few stop signs to get away from then. Eventually, I was caught by a marked car on a street two blocks away, and got a ticket.
I appealed it, and told the magistrate what happened, but I didn't get a break. And, the officers who followed me originally and had no business following me weren't even at the hearing just the lady who gave me the ticket. It's the fact that you put a dent in the world. There will always be people that will try to throw red tape at our goals in life. Honestly a dent is better than nothing at all. You really have to go into a career in public service with the mind set "If I helped one person in my whole career then the effort was worth it.
I'm sure you would be amazed if all the people that you helped during your career came back to say "Thank You". Lizzy in Exeter, United Kingdom. Kbeltran in Fargo, North Dakota said: Smith, I am in my 3rd year of Criminal Justice. Right now I am writing my Research assignment, The title is: Life and the stress of wearing the Badge. I am writing about the divorce rate among Police Officers, does an officer think about this when they get married?
And are their children treated the same as other children? Hello, This sounds like a really interesting topic, would I be able to read your finished research assignment? Am happy to share this testimony about the great priest manuka. I am callista, my husband had an affair with another lady for almost 10 years now and it was the worse thing that ever happened to our marriage.
I was forced to take a good hard look at my behavior in the marriage and I came to realize that I was partly to blame for his affair. I had become emotionally unavailable to him and when something good or bad happened in my life, I called my friends instead of my husband. I had stopped allowing him to love me and to support me and he felt as if I no longer needed him. As a musician on the road with his band, it became to much temptation for him when a girl he met on road became interested in him and was more than available for him emotionally and physically. Once I really started to examine my behavior, I realized that I had as much work to do as he did.
When going through all theses problem i came across priest manuka then i explained things to him. Now, My husband cut all tires with his other woman and became committed to working on our marriage to save it. Today, we have a beautiful son, another on the way in a couple weeks, we own our home, and have a fuller, happier life than we ever imagined. After i came across the testimony made by lucy about how this temple of spirit brought back her ex husband for more than 6 years in marriage. Ms in Dallas, Texas. I agree with you.
I feel the same way. The public does not realize how much bs and stress the average cop has to deal with. Most people like myself have no real understanding of what true law enforcement life is like. I attended a PD Citizens Academy in Signed up for three ride alongs one in each of our districts. During my time with these three officers I had an opportunity to experience a few moments in the life behind the badge. Most times it was a lot of driving around typing up reports. Then out of nowhere all hell would break loose. Traffic stops were scary. Never knew who we stopped, lol!
It was a feeling I will never forget. Almost hit some cars. Am I crazy for missing it? I've been wanting to join the PD ever since but I know that at 45 years of age I am well passed the age of chasing down suspects on foot. You have certainly earned it in my eyes! Wordtotheg30 in Yuba City, California. A police officer is simply a tax payers employee to protect and serve.
To my knowledge, being a police officer is very difficult.. I'm tankful for ur service for us keeping the streets clean and that's my dream just scared i'm not made for a correctional officer or a police. Upload your resume Sign in. Forums are open to the public. Content is not continuously monitored.
All content is user created. If you have a complaint about any content on Indeed, please contact Customer Support. Indeed reserves the right to remove any posts which Indeed feels are not relevant to jobs and company search. Give it some real thought before you sign the dotted line. For those wanting a future in police work understand this: What's it like to be cop? It's a front row seat to the greatest show on earth. It's a true shame that good officers continue to leave departments because they won't kiss ass or kiss the boots of the command staff that trashes everything law enforcement Interdepartmental politics can be lethal to any career.
However, there are too many bad ones. Just above is my comment. Hi, Does anyone have advice on how to become a police officer? I just bought it! Sorry meant to say "by causing issues for their competition or someone close to them". For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; Now that you know that no one is good in God's eyes, how do we then become good? The Bible teaches that we need to have Jesus' righteousness but the only way to do that is to come to Him by faith: And that does not sound like very much fun at all, doesn't it? Sincerely, Karen Beltran Hello, This sounds like a really interesting topic, would I be able to read your finished research assignment?
For jobs in Russia, visit ru. Job title, keywords, or company. City, state, or zip code. James Arden in Memphis, Tennessee 50 months ago. Eddie in Apache Junction, Arizona 44 months ago. Jerry Atlansky in Portland, Oregon 44 months ago. Justice Seeker in Astoria, New York 44 months ago. Renegade'nLuvIt in Weatherford, Oklahoma 41 months ago. Cara 40 months ago. Disabled Officer in Levittown, New York 37 months ago. Carol of Corona in Lake Elsinore, California 37 months ago. Awakening of Core Emotions, Fantasies, and Fears.
Dissociative, Sensory, Arousal, and Mood Symptoms Most police officers consider human remains handling and death scene investigation routine. These tasks are laden with emotional significance and are often accompanied by sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and touch sensations of the most unpleasant kind. Both young and older officers are vulnerable to the emotional and sensory aspects of body handling and death scene investigation.
Young police officers often have little life experience. Older officers may have been traumatized by military combat. Officers of any age may struggle with issues of depression, suicidal ideation, anger, aggression, separation issues, relationship problems, or childhood physical or sexual abuse. Officers with much life and street experience are much more resistant to the psychosensory effects of body handling and death investigation, but even they are not immune to them. During years on the street, they develop mature coping strategies and responses, that allow them to shrug off all but the most vivid of death scene and dead body experiences.
Some death events, however, by virtue of their magnitude, horror, bizarreness, or pathos, leave indelible impressions upon the psyche of even the most experienced and mature police officer. He may show no outward emotional response, develop transient responses to those events, or experience long-term psychological sequelae, with significant impairment and disability.
This paper concerns the transient psychological responses that may develop in police officers in response to the handling of human remains and death investigation. It is based on my year study of human tragedy, as pathologist and then police psychiatrist. Private moments of extreme grief, horror, and rage- at what man can do to fellow man, man can do to himself, and natural and man-made disaster and disease can do to the innocent and vulnerable- make up the body of this paper. All of these feelings were shared during the heat of the investigation, or in private conversations some time even years later.
Over the last twenty-eight years, I have worked with and come to know well over a thousand police officers in the field. This is their story, in their own words. Most contributed only one or two pieces to the puzzle of transient death scene and body response. Those who contributed more usually entered psychiatric treatment and recovered, or retired on medical disability. Their stories are recorded in a companion paper. This study is a subjective and practical formulation, not a rigorous academic one. It is a synthesis of every sort of symptom that these men and women have shared with me over the years.
Most officers had only one or two of these symptoms for very short times. None had all of these transient symptoms at one time. I want to make it clear that these officers by and large were, and continue to be, very high functioning, both on the job and at home. Mental health professionals MHPs deal with life, not death. They exist in a world of theory and practical application thereof in a pristine office setting.
They usually have absolutely no experience with the unpleasant physical realities of death, much less experience responding to those realities. Yet these same MHPs may be called upon to speak with an officer acutely experiencing them. The purpose of recording these responses here is to help MHPs understand that these symptoms usually are not pathological, and usually do not progress to diagnosable psychiatric disorder.
My conceptualization of that condition is discussed in another paper. With that understanding, we begin their story. Anyone police officer, emergency responder, or an actual or vicarious witness of a death scene can reach and exceed saturation point when exposed to the highly inflammatory emotional and sensory stimuli associated with dead bodies and death scenes. No one is immune. Each police officer, like any human being, can be pushed beyond the limit of his psychological experience and endurance, to a point at which he becomes overwhelmed.
Even officers of the highest caliber training, and greatest spiritual, physical, cognitive, and emotional strength and experience can become over saturated at some point, in the right milieu, and with the right intensity of stimulation. Which specific individual death scene, body, or investigation leads to over-saturation in a given officer is idiosyncratic.
That which is devastating to one officer may have little effect on another. However, a particularly poignant or awful tableau of sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and touch experiences can assault an officer's emotional Achilles heel. Most police officers are bound by the emotional cultures of their departments.
Many departments have historically subscribed to the idea that police officers should always be free of emotion. The advent of modern warfare and the rise of military psychiatry have debunked this myth. Professional soldiers with the most advanced training and experience do express emotion about their combat and war experiences, albeit usually in very private circumstances. The general admitted publicly that he cried with homesickness, and showed the teddy bear from his family that he kept on his cot for comfort. In the my experience, highly professional police officers of great experience also feel strong emotion about their varied street experiences, especially body handling and death.
These officers are willing to share their feelings under safe circumstance. Police officers do cry, and many told me that they cried for the first time while watching General Schwarzkopf's interview on television. However, like war-fighters, police officers shed tears only with those who can be trusted truly to understand- those who have actually shared similar street experiences. Civilians and members of the military may have similar groups of symptoms under situations of extreme stress.
However, I have found that police officers have characteristic expression of specific symptoms within each group. The American Psychiatric Association did not officially recognize these transient symptoms in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual until In that year, trauma responses the first eight groups listed above were consolidated into a constellation of symptoms called acute stress disorder.
I Wish I Never Became a Police Officer
To qualify for this diagnosis, the symptoms had to be present for a minimum of two days and a maximum of four weeks, with onset within four weeks of the event. No provision was made for the diagnosis of incomplete syndromes. Cultural allowances were only briefly addressed and concerned immigrants with histories of political and war-related torture just as in the criteria for post-traumatic stress disorder [PTSD]. No mention was made of work-related allowances for police officers, members of the fire and ambulance services, paramedics, or medical death investigators.
The criteria for acute stress disorder still stand today. In my experience, symptom clusters not meeting full criteria for acute stress disorder, and symptom clusters defined as acute stress disorder in civilians, are quite common in police officers handling human remains and personal effects. If civilian criteria are applied to this population, a stigmatizing label of a psychiatric disorder will be attached to otherwise healthy and highly functioning professionals.
This labeling induces further iatrogenic psychological injury, with its associated psychiatric morbidity and mortality. He recovers much more quickly if he is treated like the high functioning human being that he is. No Outward Emotional Response. Some police officers never outwardly manifest an apparent immediate, short-, or long-term emotional response to human remains, personal effects, the death scene, the forensic morgue, medicolegal autopsy, or at mass fatality disasters the personal effects warehouse.
These police officers usually are older, have great life experience, and have come to a personal conclusion and philosophy about the roles of good and evil in life and death. They have examined the purpose of man, and his role in the universe. They may have spent much time in spiritual contemplation and deciding whether or not there is a power higher than themselves.
They often pursue intellectual avenues advanced degrees, often in the social sciences, or psychology or creative outlets poetry, music, art. Most have had earlier experience with death, through farming, ranching, hunting, fishing, or military combat. Some officers have come to similar understanding by more rigorous means, having survived early childhood physical or sexual assault or abuse, and in rare cases, even homicide attempts by a parent or other family member.
Repeated exposure to aggression and death potential and actual , leads to fine honing of successful, mature psychological coping mechanisms. In unusual circumstances, a police officer does not care about or acknowledge psychosensory experiences during body handling and scene investigation because of his personality structure, psychopathology, or psychiatric illness. The officer may lack empathy, as in antisocial or narcissistic personality disorders. Or, he may actually enjoy death, destruction, and carnage, as in sado-masochism and sociopathy. On Thursday, while the entire school was in the gym, we waited just outside the doors.
I was to use the gun on whoever walked out first. Then he would take the gun and go into the gym blasting. I walked up to Mr. Quinn the guidance counselor and shot him in the face three times. He fell back into the gym, dead. The shots were deafening. We heard screams in the auditorium. No one could see us yet. I handed him the gun and whispered, "your turn.
I followed a moment after. He hadn't hit anyone yet. Kids were scrambling and hiding. I ran up behind him and tackled him. I wrenched the gun out of his hands, turned it on him, and killed him. I closed his mouth forever. On Friday, I was anointed a hero. It was indeed the perfect plan. All things must have balance. Without one, the other cannot exist. Of course he fights evil. I am Dartalian, one of His most Holy and Righteous angels. I roam the Earth, disposing of evil wherever I find it.
I kill the monsters you don't ever want to know about. I crush them completely so you can sleep at night. You humans have no idea how many of you live because of the work I do. The ones I destroy are What's funny, is while I would wager you never have heard the name Dartalian in any relegious texts, I bet you have heard of me. Americans, for example, have their own name for me. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. There was no pearly gate. The only reason I knew I was in a cave was because I had just passed the entrance.
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The rock wall rose behind me with no ceiling in sight. I knew this was it, this was what religion talked about, what man feared.. I had just entered the gate to hell. I felt the presence of the cave as if it was a living, breathing creature. The stench of rotten flesh overwhelmed me. Then there was the voice, it came from inside and all around. I've lived as good as I could". The silence took over the space as my words died out. It seemed like an hour went by before the response came.
I never believed any of this", I uttered "Is that why I am here? The cave trembled with the words: It was one a. He hadn't moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right, and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home.
Why did you run, you idiot? He'd never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone.
Why not just go to the police right now? You can afford a lawyer. Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. His body trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. He let out a defeated sigh. Let me —"I am terribly sorry, but I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your son's bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening.
He died at the scene. I'm very sorry for your loss. Have you ever walked into a room and found a vampire? No, not the sexy kind, but a foul creature with bony limbs and ashen skin? The kind that snarls as you enter, like a beast about to pounce? The kind that roots you to the spot with its sunken, hypnotic eyes, rendering you unable to flee as you watch the hideous thing uncoil from the shadows? Has your heart started racing though your legs refuse to?
Have you felt time slow as the creature crosses the room in the darkness of a blink? Have you shuddered with fear when it places one clawed hand atop your head and another under your chin so it can tilt you, exposing your neck? Have you squirmed as its rough, dry tongue slides down your cheek, over your jaw, to your throat, in a slithering search that's seeking your artery? Have you felt its hot breath release in a hiss against your skin when it probes your pulse—the flow that leads to your brain? Has its tongue rested there, throbbing slightly as if savoring the moment?
Have you then experienced a sinking, sucking blackness as you discover that not all vampires feed on blood—some feed on memories? But let me rephrase the question: Have you ever walked into a room and suddenly forgotten why you came in? The doctor pulled the stethoscope ear tips out and hung the device around his neck. Weatherby, all of your tests have come back negative and my examination shows nothing abnormal.
A psychologist can help They seem to have a life all their own. I can't hold a job. I'm under investigation for assault. I almost killed my neighbor. This can't go on. I'll try anything at this point. He was convinced that despite what the doctors said, it was not a psychological problem. That night, a frustrated and angry Adam sat in a chair and drank bourbon. Drunk and hopeless, he stumbled to the garage and started the table saw, then slowly lowered his wrists toward the screaming blade.
Detective Armstrong entered the garage where several uniformed officers stood over the blood-soaked body. He apparently chopped off his hands with the table saw and bled to death. I don't know why I looked up, but when I did I saw him there. He stood against my window. His forehead rested against the glass, and his eyes were still and light and he smiled a lipstick-red, cartoonish grin.
And he just stood there in the window. My wife was upstairs sleeping, my son was in his crib and I couldn't move I froze and watched him looking past me through the glass. His smile never moved but he put a hand up and slid it down the glass, watching me. With matted hair and yellow skin and face through the window. I couldn't do anything.
I just stayed there, frozen, feet still in the bushes I was pruning, looking into my home. People started falling from the sky by the close of the decade. They were never clothed, always naked, always a petrifying grin on their faces. It had been just a few at first, but then hundreds and thousands would fall at a time, destroying cars, homes, blocking off highways. Strange discoveries were made upon research; they were human, but lacked any blood, intestines, even a heart.
No one could explain the hideous grins they had, or even where they came from. It was a woman in Costa Rica who made the latest and most disturbing discovery. She recognized one of the fallen bodies as a long dead relative, one who died back when she had been a teenager. Then more and more identifications were made. Soon people were picking out their long dead loved ones amongst the video feeds, cadaver piles, and crematoriums.
No one could explain why they were coming back, falling from the sky. Even more distressing, after disposing of the bodies, it wouldn't be long until that same body came plummeting from the sky again. You could not get rid of them, no matter what. People were getting killed by the higher volume of falling bodies, and soon after burial, they too, began to fall. My mother was killed when a body landed on her car, crushing her. The next week, the news reported on a body that had gotten lodged in an airplane windshield.
They say when hell is full; the dead shall walk the earth. I watched as my soon to be father-in-law held his daughter's hand as he walked down the aisle. Tears streamed down his face as the wedding march that played in the background reminded him that, in a few minutes, he would be watching me hold his daughter's hand and slipping on her ring. He walked up to the altar and I took hold of her hand, grinning from ear to ear. It was the happiest day of my life. My bride's father got down on his knees and started begging.
Just please give my daughter back. Panicked, I run through the abandoned farm. I can't find her. Not in the old house. Not in the barn. I run into the empty field, heart racing. As I scan the area, I run into a mound of dirt and trip, sprawling to the ground. Getting up, it hits me. I tripped over freshly tilled earth.
Crouching down, I start frantically clawing with my hands. Scooping handfuls of dirt, I hit something hard. I hear muffled cries. I start digging again, but realize it's taking too long. Looking around, I see a garden shed. I sprint to it, ripping the door open. I see a shovel, still caked in dirt. Probably the same one that bastard buried her with. Running back, I started digging with purpose. Soon the wooden box is exposed. I toss the shovel, and rip open the crate. She stares back at me, eyes wide. I sigh with relief.
I reach into my bag, pulling out my rag and chloroform. I crouch down, placing it over her face. I toss her over my shoulder. You almost had me though! Where did you put her? Drowning's an issue though. I smile, watching him go. I love adult Hide and Seek. Look, I'll be the first to admit I'm a complete bastard.
I'm only here to find the idiot, because there's almost always an idiot. This support group is pretty typical. We connected online, decided on a quiet place, and now we're all sitting cross-legged in a circle. Jerome takes the lead, pouring everyone a cup of tea as he starts talking. You can drink your tea, but only after explaining why you're here.
I can see why—the guy's ugly as sin. He sips his tea while the mousy chick speaks next. She's probably not the idiot. Next to talk are a legless veteran, a broke businessman, a needle-tracked junkie, and a diseased old crone. Then it's my turn. Afterwards, we're all sitting quietly when Jerome keels over. Then Miyu's eyes roll back and she slumps forward.