A year ago around this time many life changing events happened.
My last official day as a Law Enforcement Officer, but more appropriately as a Deputy Sheriff with the authority of the Sheriff’s Office was April 14, 2019, which happened to be a Sunday, which also happened to be my birthday.
But before April 14, 2019, came about, I reached out to my dispatch for some paperwork I needed for all my future upcoming court dates, which I still needed to attend to since I was the arresting officer.
Well, little did I know that after I was told to turn in all of my gear and equipment to include: uniforms, gun, badge, ID and patrol vehicle, which was two days after I personally handed to my Sergeant my two weeks notice. I was completely black listed from entering the confinement’s of the Sheriff’s Office, which included dispatch, which also including receiving any paperwork that I needed to handle my upcoming court cases.
NOTE: I still had a week and some change left and was still legally employed by the Sheriff’s Office.
I was truly hurt and upset by all of it; because it appeared they never thought to consider that it was merely a couple of months before that I had to notify them of the domestic that occurred and the protection order, which prevented me from carrying a gun, that was put in place on both my spouse and me.
No one ever reached out and asked for an exit interview. No one ever reached out and asked why I was leaving. No one ever reached out and bother to check if my life was in danger. No one ever did anything for my well being. NO ONE.
Which quite honestly shouldn’t have been a surprise to me because I’ve been on my own for a long time now. I’ve literally have had no one stand up for me since I can remember.
Since I was a little girl in third grade, I remember going above and beyond to protect those I called my friends from bullying. I always did my best to protect those around me, whether I knew someone or not, I’ve always offered my hand.
I remember when I was bullied in 7th grade. I was on the bus and this boy kept picking on me. He happened to be sitting next to a girl who I thought was my friend. I sat there crying like the little girl I was and remember looking up at the mirror above the bus driver and saw her looking at me. She didn’t say anything to him about the incident.
Crazy thing was apparently the girl who I thought was my friend was suspended and she accused me of snitching about the incident. I just looked at her and said nothing, because there was nothing to say. I didn’t snitch about anything. Why she felt the need to accuse me was of her own self and guilty conscious.
Anyways, April 15, 2019, I got my foot in the door of the career field I wanted to get into. Around the same time, the aftermath from the protection order violation was still affecting me, but my mental health completely deteriorated behind closed doors because I had to give up my dream job.
Since I was in eighth grade, I said I wanted to be a detective specializing in sexual assault cases (gnarly I know, but that was my goal then). Little did I know once I got in it, I would prefer the road life much better. But just like that. Almost three years and I had to give it up.
I wasn’t fired. I didn’t kill anyone. I didn’t do anything g shady. I didn’t violate anyone’s right with ill will and malice, bringing shame to the department and law enforcement officers all around the world.
I had to give it up, because I was traumatized so badly I couldn’t respond to a domestic violence call without feeling like I was the victim and reliving the whole thing. I couldn’t walk into the house and be a third party who obtained all the facts without making a judgement call and be unbiased. The moment I walked in I was biased. I would plead to the victim to get out. I would come as close to say, trust me. I know. I personally know what you’re going through. I can personally tell you…
Those were my final months in law enforcement.
A constant battle of keeping my home life home. A constant battle of not being over excessively cautious because of the paranoia and PTSD from my home life. A constant battle of not letting my emotions get out of control. A constant battle with myself.
My depression took a turn for the worse because that was the only thing I had left along with my dogs after walking away from him. Now (then), he took that from me too.
That feeling led me to anger, which led me to hatred, which led me to a deeper depression and constant flashbacks. So much that it began to affect my work.
August 2019, I officially began attending group, which truly helped me deal with a lot of my demons. I learned to let go of the anger, because I realized it still gave him control over me. That really started the healing process for me.
Fast forward a year, April 22, 2020, my attorney’s office confirm my divorce is final through the courts and they’ve mailed my divorce creed as of last week.
I’m not one for birthdays or holidays, but I’m accepting it as the best late birthday present anyone has ever given me.
It only took a little over a year, but it’s finally done.
I am legally a free, independent, single woman.