Staff Perspective: Coping in our Post-9/11 World - Part 2, Working with Clients
In part 1 of this blog, I explored how my colleagues and I have been personally coping with the elevated risk of terrorism and v
In part 1 of this blog, I explored how my colleagues and I have been personally coping with the elevated risk of terrorism and v
September is Suicide Awareness Month in the United States. I would like to use this opportunity to discuss three ideas that are important in bringing awareness to the effort of reducing the burden of suicide. I will briefly touch on the stigma of suicide, the extent of suicide among Veterans, and the warning signs of suicide as they relate to Service members and Veterans.
As the 15th anniversary of 9/11 drew near, I found myself thinking a lot about how the world has changed in those years and how those changes have impacted my personal life and my work. Last month, I drove through New York City to visit my hometown. Seeing the skyline always elicits in me a strange combination of grief for lives lost and pride in New Yorkers’ resilience. But on this drive I found myself thinking “What’s next?” and “Maybe it’s not safe to be in NYC.” Perhaps this was because the anniversary of 9/11 was right around the corner, but I also think it had a lot to do with the seeming increase in local and global violence.
Imagine that you want to build a house -- or better yet, that you NEED to build a house to get respite from the elements and to feel safe and comfortable. Unsure where to begin, you seek out a builder to help guide you in this process. You might feel a sense of trepidation. What if this builder doesn’t understand your needs or the kind of house you’re hoping for? Worse yet, what if the houses they build aren’t solid, long-lasting, and sound? Now imagine meeting with that builder and getting vague and confusing details about the building plan with no glimpse of a blueprint, but having to consent to the project. Oh... and you also are required to put down a significant deposit.
The heat is bearing down on my face. I feel my legs cramp up and my arms are trembling as I push on the tow bar of a recumbent cyclist up a hill. After five days of traveling from Atlanta to Gulfport, Mississippi, I wonder if I will finish today’s bike ride. I start slightly swerving out of formation and am quickly reminded by a ride leader that I need to get back in my position. Another pusher of the inclined bikes notices I am getting tired and inquires if I would like to take a break. “I can hold on for another five min.” I tell the veteran cyclist.