“I’m fine.”

Are you fine? Am I fine?

I realized that after a decade of hearing that answer from you, I started giving the same one. I was not fine and neither were you, but I had to be. I was taking care of you, was taking care of our daughter, of our home, working full time, doing everything and anything to stay afloat, but who was taking care of me?

Does anyone care how I’m doing? Do you even see me anymore? Does anyone realize how hard it is for us? We are the ones that may not work in corrections, but that were being held captive by the job.

We are the family members of corrections staff. I watched you, an officer for 18 years, slowly become a person that was unrecognizable to me physically, emotionally, and mentally. You put the job before me, our family, and the life we were supposed to be building together. I was alone. Always walking on eggshells. Making excuses and trying to justify your absence, whether it be physical or mental.

But “I signed up for this,” right? “I knew what I was getting myself into” and how your work affected you, right? No, I didn’t sign up for this. Who was asking me if I was ok? If my daughter was ok when she hadn’t seen her Daddy all week? I was alone, overfunctioning on every level, and burnt out. I was done.

Does that even matter? Do I matter to anyone? Do you care? Are you still in there? I love you, but I can’t do this anymore. You don’t want to be this way anymore either? I’ll believe it when I see it, but what are the chances you put YOURSELF before the job? Before your pride? Before the brothers and sisters you work with? To save yourself. To save your family. To save me.

One day at a time. One hard conversation at a time. One small adjustment at a time. Facing emotions, facing trauma, and lifting the fog that has been dragging you down for years to let the light of healing in. Talk to someone who understands your trauma. Talk to your peers. Be vulnerable. Face the hard truths of what you’ve experienced that got you here. And, most importantly, talk to me.

I see you. Coming back to me. Coming back to yourself. Is this really happening? Are you really back? Not fully yet, but you are better. Y

ou are the man I always knew you were. My family, my rock, my husband. I need you. Your family needs you. Don’t ever leave me again. Don’t ever “I’m fine” me again… I can’t go through that again. I see you.

When you give your best to help those around you. When sometimes it’s hard to help yourself. When you want to help others not go through the pain, trauma, stress. When sometimes it’s hard to face it yourself. What you are doing now to bring light to this subject in order to better yourself and the lives of those in corrections is the true meaning of strength and resilience. You are not replaceable. Your family is not replaceable. Don’t give up on yourself. Don’t give up on your family. It’s all that truly matters at the end of it all.

**I love you and I’m proud of you. You are everything to me. And now you’re everything to yourself. **