A Talk with the Captain...and a Dressing-Down from the Sergeant

JT was called into the hallway for a chat with the academy captain one day last week. She told him that he wasn't the first guy, nor would he be the last, to struggle with the wall and the rope. She told him to hang in there and not to quit, even in spite of the tactical staff telling him to.

But a few nights later, JT wrote an email to the sergeant he reports to, telling him that he will be working on the rope every weekend in his time off. This sergeant wrote back that this was unacceptable and he should have gotten it by now. He also wrote that he will be getting a report from the academy about JT's progress this week and it had "better be good."

So since then, JT's understandably been in another funk. I would be pretty upset by an email like that, too. He's been talking about quitting. Is that normal to want to quit even after several weeks in? Will he get past this hump eventually?

Camp Snoopy

So this week is the week known as "Camp Snoopy" to the academy recruits. But so far, things have been pretty calm. JT's first day was relatively uneventful, with the emphasis being mostly on structured, in-class learning.

His firearms instructor is fairly laid back, and insists that the recruits don't need to go through the formalities because they slow everything down. Normally, if a recruit has a question in class, he has to stand, stare at a space in front of him, say "Sir" and introduce himself. Then he can pose his question and top it with a final "Sir." But this is time-consuming and some instructors prefer to focus on the learning objectives.

The recruits also spent some time in PT with their fitness coach. She told them that they had five minutes to do as many push-ups and sit-ups as they can. JT actually had the lowest number of push-ups of the class: 75. But he felt okay with that. The coach had said that recruits who do less than 50 tend to struggle with the academy. With 25 over that, he's doing OK.

He told me today that he doesn't care if he's not the most athletic in the class. As long as he gets through all the exercises and doesn't draw attention to himself he is fine. But the goal that is closest to his heart is to be the top of his class academically. He is driven to score the highest on the tests and to be the best at memorizing commands and such.

Some officers from his department happened to be practicing at the shooting range nearby today. They saw the name I stenciled on JT's shirt and pants last night, and called to him. They asked him if he's going to pass academy.

"Sir, yes sir!" JT said, smiling.

"You'd better!" they said. "Because it's just day one. And we've got people watching you. Understand? We're watching you."

(Then, according to JT, they waited until they had put some distance between themselves and him before breaking out into a chuckle.)

It's a relief and a blessing to hear how friendly everyone at JT's new police department is. Many police departments hold their rookies at arm's length, letting them know they are not full members of their team. Not JT's department. Perhaps because they are so small, they seem like they've all been informed there's a new recruit and they're curious about him. Like Harry Potter, everyone already knows his name.

JT's anxiety is, according to him, getting a bit better. He's been meditating and this is helping some. I thought it might; it's all in the mind. A big thank you to the other wives who have written me with support and advice for dealing with this. At the moment, he is improving.

Anxiety

About a week ago, I noticed a deep cut on JT's left wrist. When I asked him where he got it he said he didn't know. Well, last night he told me. He gave it to himself.

He explained that he gets anxiety attacks every morning now. These are marked by nausea. So sometimes he digs his fingernails into his skin to keep from throwing up.

JT has had anxiety his whole life. He used to be afraid of Disneyland as a child. He used to be afraid of school too and would stay home with stomach aches that went away after a few hours. But the minute his parents took him back to school he would get nauseous again and spend the rest of the day hiding out in the bathroom.

When I met him, he had grown out of this anxiety for the most part, with the help of some medications that did damage to his liver. On our third date, he told me that he was nauseous, because he always got nauseous in the face of something new and exciting. But apart from that one day, the only time I ever saw him anxious was when his band was playing gigs (they're on hiatus now). He never ate before a show. He said he was afraid he would throw up at any moment.

Now that his life is changing, now that he has a new job and will work for a new department and has a ton of new things to learn and a ton of pressure to get them right, his anxiety has come back full force. And he's mutilating himself in an effort to keep it hidden.

He's looking for remedies. He no longer takes medication but is considering going back to that. Personally, I believe in treating the problem at the source: I think meditation or hypnotherapy could do him some good. JT is a Buddhist, but he never meditates. I think if he could try doing that for a little while every morning it might help soothe his mind.

What do my readers think? Any other suggestions for dealing with anxiety--herbal remedies, mental remedies, etc--are welcome.

Decisions, Decisions

After he was finished with the great lunch I made him (roast beef & swiss on bagels with avocado slices and a frappuccino--a concoction made from instant cappuccino powder, ice cream, ice and milk) I asked JT to change the baby's diaper and clothes.

"But I don't know what to put on her."
"It doesn't matter," I say. "Just give her a onesie or something."
"Why do I have to make all the decisions?"
"What are you talking about?"
"It's too many decisions! You try making decisions sometime!"

I'm genuinely confused at this point. So I shut up and continue folding cloth diapers fresh from the dryer.

Finally he chooses the green "Daddy's Princess" onesie.

A minute later, she's still in nothing but a diaper.

JT: "I can't get it over her head. Her head is too big now."
"Yeah. Her head has grown. But it's not too big."
"I've forgotten how to do it," he says.
"Here: I'll show you--you just roll it up this way and make the opening wider..."
"I can't do it."
"Well, honey, how are you doing it when I'm not here?"
"I don't know. It just happens."
"It does, huh?"
"I think you should do it."
"Honey, what's wrong with you?"
"You do it, okay?" (Walking away) "The definition of a crime is an act, committed or omitted in violation of a law forbidding or commanding it..."