The day was July 1, 2012; I remember waking up that day and dreading the upcoming holiday. Honestly, I cannot remember much of the day and cannot remember what time this incident happened. Here is what I remember.
I remember having an actual conversation with myself; it was different internally like I spoke out and answered myself. The debate went like this.
Joe, is this your new normal? Like is this what the rest of your life will be like? You are never happy. It’s always fake love, smiles, and never feeling anything. You are completely numb. Your hours turn into days, days become weeks, and weeks become months. You are going nowhere fast. You are getting 60% of your pay on short-term disability. You can’t pay your bills, and ignoring collection calls is getting more complex. Why even try anymore? You are worth more money dead than you are alive. Wow, I am worth more dead.
This conversation took place as I lay in the bed.
I spoke out loud, or at least that is how my mind remembers it. I began thinking about the best way to accomplish what I was thinking…I began to plot my suicide.
I wasn’t worried about pain or scared of what could happen to me. That thought never crossed my mind.
The plan came together rather quickly.
I decided it would be a good idea to kill myself and even planned it so that the first responders, my friends, wouldn’t have trouble cleaning my body. The way I planned it was as safe as I could think of, just in case my kids were the ones to find me. I took my duty Glock and removed the magazine from it. My duty weapon was always chambered and ready to work, so I knew one round was remaining, and it was prepared to complete the job. I took the removed magazine and placed it on the top shelf in my bedroom closet.
I removed my shirt; I’m not sure why I did that. I walked into my bathroom, climbed into the bathtub, and laid down.
I took my Glock and placed it in my mouth. I did not like the way it felt and immediately removed it.
With my right hand, I put the gun up to the right temple of my head and began the trigger pull.
Tears just fell down my face and dripped onto my chest.
I wasn’t crying; I just had uncontrollable tears pouring out. I remember the entire time I was pulling the trigger, I was telling myself that “You can stop this, just stop this. Do you want to die?”
“Is this the answer you are looking for?”
These thoughts were with me the entire time as the cold barrel of the gun dug into my head.
Find The Wall
During firearms training, we are trained to find the wall of the trigger pull. I’ll never forget the instructors yelling at us, “Find the wall and squeeze the shot off, then immediately find the wall and the front sight again and squeeze the shot off again!” The wall…
I was unintentionally looking for the wall.
I hit the wall of my trigger pull. This was it. This was the last thought I would ever have. This was the last time I would ever feel this pain. This was it!
BAM!!!!
BAM!!! Hunter, my oldest son, popped into my mind.
I immediately let off the trigger and dropped the gun.
I did not want to die.
The Aftermath
I never told anyone about this. No one at all, not my friends, family, anyone. I kept this a secret for over ten years. In 2017, I moved to the Tulsa, Oklahoma, area and began treatment. This is a story on its own. It took treatment and working through this with my therapist to make this public. I teach about PTSD in front of cops all over Oklahoma and have told this story several times. Even though the incident is over ten years old, it still shakes me and brings me to tears when I speak about it.
I’m not alone in this.
We all have something to live for; we just get distracted by evil and forget how valuable our life is. Trauma to the brain is about as evil as a criminal with a gun. Untreated trauma can be more dangerous than the bad guy. How hard is it for us to take a hard look in the mirror and say, “You are the bad guy who is trying to kill you.”
I know firsthand the only time I almost died by the gun was from my own hand, not the bad guy that I have trained for.
Today, I’m in treatment and taking care of my mental health. I’m still on patrol and working as hard or harder as I did back then. I’m working on my master’s degree and hope to become a therapist.
My most significant flex in life is telling you all if I can do it. So can you!
Believe in yourself!
Josiah is a resilient law enforcement professional with a deep commitment to service. Born and raised in Hugo, Oklahoma, he began his career with the Hugo Police Department in 2005. A life-altering on-duty incident in 2012 led him to leave law enforcement briefly.
Seeking recovery and healing, he moved to Tulsa in 2017, where he underwent treatment for PTSD. This transformative period fueled his dedication to not only return to law enforcement but also educate fellow officers about trauma and PTSD.
Beyond his career, Josiah finds solace in nature through hunting and fishing, and he’s an avid traveler, especially drawn to colder climates. He’s also passionate about freelance writing, using his skills to share insights and stories. Currently pursuing a degree in counseling, he aspires to leverage his experiences and education to support others through their healing journeys.
Married and a proud father of three boys, Josiah is driven by a desire to serve, grow, and positively impact the lives of others. You can follow Josiah here.