I Had to Use Deadly Force. I’m Ashamed of What I Did to Cope

I have been a police officer in Wisconsin for 23 years. I am also a Certified Peer Specialist in Wisconsin. I began my law enforcement career in 2001 after serving as an active duty United States Army Military Policeman.

In April 2016, I was involved in a critical incident that changed my life forever when I used deadly force on someone who armed themselves with a hatchet inside a busy department store. This person died.

I suffered in silence for many years after my critical incident and I am ashamed for the ways I poorly coped. I still feel shame for the ways I coped and treated people.

I find it hard to believe that nobody realized or even had a gut feeling that I was not doing well. I could not have been that good at hiding my poor coping strategies—or was I?

I have always wondered if people were slowly watching me self-destruct because they did not know what to say to me, how to help me, or they simply did not want to get involved.

It has taken me many years to get back on track. There are many different coping strategies people may use after experiencing trauma. They may be good and healthy, or they may be bad and unhealthy.

My coping strategies were bad, unhealthy, self-destructive, and dangerous. I used alcohol, marijuana, casual sex, and self-harm as some of my poor coping strategies for years after my critical incident.

These easily put my relationships, job, and health at risk, but I did not care. I wanted to escape from what I was feeling. I wanted to numb my emotions, my thoughts, my body, and any memory of taking someone’s life.

I wanted to feel better, even if only momentarily.

I was selfish, and reckless, and I did not care how my self-destructive and dangerous behavior may have affected my family, friends, children, co-workers, and the public.

There were many times that I did not want to go to work. I just wanted to stay at home and isolate myself from the world. I wanted to lock all the doors of my home, close all the curtains, and shut everyone out of my life—which I did many times for many years.

Sure, I called in sick from time to time, but on one occasion, I intentionally injured myself so that I didn’t have to work.

I used an old 12-inch adjustable steel wrench to cause superficial injuries to my left knee. I struck my knee a dozen or more times, enough to cause redness, abrasions, and bruising, and limped into the local emergency room.

I explained to the doctor and nurses that I had tripped and fallen down walking out of the back door of my house and struck my knee on the steel covering of an underground septic tank. My story was believable enough.

I received X-rays of my knee, a prescription for pain medication, and crutches. I was discharged from the emergency room with a doctor’s letter releasing me from work for about one week. This occurred during a busy holiday work week.

Although I was not able to truly celebrate the holiday, this deception got me out of work and I could enjoy the time alone at home.

Another way I was able to get out of working was to intentionally make myself sick. I remember while taking a shower before my shift I was thinking about the many ways I could get out of work.

While I was putting on my ballistic vest, uniform, boots, and duty belt, I thought to myself, I’m going to get out of working by binge eating and making myself vomit.

I constructed a plan to visit the local Burger King drive-thru while traveling to work. I ordered a bunch of breakfast food and made sure I washed it down with a large soda and a large orange juice.

I then passed the local McDonald’s and thought: Two is better than one. I quickly binged what I purchased from McDonalds too, and proceeded to work.

I arrived at work masterfully played the role of the “sick employee.” I walked into the police department and made myself vomit in the bathroom. I made sure the bathroom door remained open so that anyone walking by could see or hear me.

I was immediately sent home.

Another poor coping strategy was abusing alcohol. Prior to the incident, I collected wine and enjoyed a glass every now and then. After, I began abusing liquor, mainly whiskey and the cheapest vodka I could get my hands on.

I would consume whiskey and vodka straight from their bottles, on the rocks, or I create my own cocktails by combining over-the-counter liquid sleeping or liquid allergy medicines.

There were times I would mix in whatever leftover prescription medicines I had in the medicine cabinet, and it didn’t matter if they were prescribed to me or someone else, like my anti-depressant Venlafaxine or my daughter’s cough medicine containing codeine.

I very well could have blacked out and never woken up from consuming these dangerous cocktails, but at the time I did not care. Abusing alcohol may have been a quick fix, but it caused me even more stress, anxiety, and depression.

In September 2018, I drafted a written contract with myself to not consume alcohol. I don’t remember writing the contract, but there was something inside of me that recognized how self-destructive alcohol was.

This contract quickly became null and void because it took me another three years to reduce my alcohol consumption.

Another way I dangerously coped was by drinking and driving. Prior to attending any type of social event, even as simple as going to the grocery store, I would consume alcohol.

I would travel to a nearby gas station and purchase many small bottles of liquor containing about 1.5 ounces of whiskey, vodka, or whatever I could afford at the time, and immediately consume the alcohol in my vehicle before traveling.

I tossed the empty bottles in the back of my vehicle or out the window while I was driving. I would rationalize that it would take about 30 minutes for me to feel the effects of the alcohol, and by the time I was impaired I would have arrived at my destination.

I was very fortunate that I was not arrested for drinking and driving or even worse, killing someone.

Another example of risky and reckless behavior that I am still ashamed of today involved alcohol, operating while impaired, and my youngest daughter.

I was consuming alcohol late morning into the early afternoon and had to pick up my youngest daughter at her mother’s (my ex-wife) house and take her to gymnastics.

I took the wrong turn and drove 21 miles out of the way. I drove for 61 miles impaired by alcohol. For 46 miles, I had my youngest daughter with me.

I also used casual sex as a coping strategy and to distract myself from my emotional discomfort and pain. I would meet women and sometimes within 30 minutes, we would have sex.

This caused me more stress and anxiety than anything else. Sure, I felt great during sex, but it caused me more harm than good. I was constantly worried about pregnancy and contracting an STI.

Although this type of sexual behavior was risky, self-destructive, and caused me stress and anxiety, it was not enough to convince me to stop. I wanted an instant feel-good escape from my life and casual sex provided that for me.

Another dangerous and unimaginable way I coped was by putting my duty weapon to my head.

During my critical incident, it was a Glock 22 Gen 4—40 Caliber. I put this weapon to my head at least a dozen times. Sometimes I even placed the barrel in my mouth.

I would always remove the magazine, but for those of you who are not familiar with a Glock, if you don’t rack the slide and remove the round from the chamber (barrel) it will still discharge a round. I very easily could have accidentally killed myself.

My rationalization was that I simply wanted to hear and feel the metallic click of the trigger being pulled while the barrel of the gun was resting against my right temple.

I did this while I was under the influence of alcohol. I still do not truly understand why I did this, and sometimes wonder how many times it happened while I was excessively consuming alcohol. I am very fortunate to be alive.

In December 2021 I experienced a panic attack during an active shooter training which led to a psychological assessment in January 2022. The assessment lasted seven hours and resulted in a nine-page mental health diagnoses.

I was thinking about not being honest during the evaluation. I thought I could beat it. I chose to be honest with the evaluation and myself; that was the only way I would receive the type of help I needed.

I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and PTSD with Acute Stress by the police department’s psychologist and deemed Unfit for Duty. This meant I was not able to return to work and needed to undergo intense psychotherapy, Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), Biofeedback, and Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT).

I requested a 90-day leave of absence to work on my mental health in the hope of returning to duty. I attended therapy two and three days a week for 90 days.

I was finally undergoing the right kind of mental health treatment that helped me heal and understand why I adapted to poor coping strategies to self-medicate myself.

I only wished I had begun this therapy five years earlier—but it was better later than never.

In April 2022, during my leave of absence, I was placed on a safety plan because of my suicidal ideations. The psychological exam discovered an elevated risk of harm to myself.

I agreed to not engage in self-harm, destructive or life-threatening behavior, or any other high-risk behavior to myself or others. I don’t remember ever wanting to die by suicide, but my behaviors were very evident I was heading in that direction.

There were many nights I would pray to God that he would not let me wake up in the morning.

In May 2022, I met with my police chief and was told my leave of absence was not going to be extended. I was given the option to resign or I would be terminated. I chose not to resign and was terminated.

What next? I had been diagnosed with a mental illness, on a safety plan, and terminated from a job I’ve wanted since I was a little boy. I had been employed with the police department for 14 years.

What if I had gone home and died by suicide?

It was almost as if the police department washed their hands of me. I was ghosted by my co-workers. The same people who not only knew me professionally but personally.

They knew my family, my daughters, helped me move, and even came to me with their own personal and professional mental health challenges. I would have died for them.

I felt hopeless, helpless, and abandoned. I was devastated.

I continued weekly therapy. I am also prescribed Lexapro (20mg) and Propranolol (as needed) which are medications that help me with my depression and generalized anxiety.

I have faced many personal and professional mental health challenges after my critical incident and it has taken me many years to get back on track.

I am currently a police captain in Hartford, Wisconsin. I am where I am today because I finally put myself first and moved past my poor coping strategies.

I would not have been successful with healing my mental health without the unwavering support of my family, friends, colleagues, counselors, and even complete strangers. I am very grateful and will never be able to put into words how much their support means to me.

Please reach out to someone if you believe they are struggling with their mental health. I know it may feel awkward or uncomfortable, but most people will not admit they are struggling, and most people will not reach out for help. You could be a light during a very dark time in their life.

I also want to thank my Police Chief Shawn McGee for strongly supporting our officers, our communities, and my mental health.

Chief McGee’s leadership and support means so much to me and is important for raising awareness that it’s OK to talk about your mental health, you are not alone, and you don’t have to suffer in silence.

Adam Meyers is a police captain in Wisconsin and the founder of Stop the Threat – Stop the Stigma.

All views expressed are the author’s own.

If you or someone you know is considering suicide, contact the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline by dialing 988, text “988” to the Crisis Text Line at 741741 or go to 988lifeline.org

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