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The bravest thing I ever did was continuing my life when I wanted to die.
"The bravest thing I ever did was continuing my life when I wanted to die."
Each day, we honor first responders for their bravery, strength, and dedication to saving lives. But beneath the sirens and the helmets is a more subtle, more lethal crisis: suicide. First responders are dying not from what they charge toward, but from what they're carrying inside. Even after being trained to deal with the unthinkable, many find themselves ill-prepared to confront the psychological consequences of trauma, chronic stress, and isolation. The reality? Suicide is a silent epidemic in emergency services.
This blog digs up the untold stories, system failures, and unwritten truths surrounding first responder suicide. It's an invitation to look past the badge—to acknowledge the human, the suffering, and the need for change.
First responder suicide is not only a tragic result, it's an avoidable breakdown of systems, culture, and knowledge. To grasp how we ended up at this point of crisis, we need to look beyond the numbers and learn the causes that drive these sobering trends.
● The rate of suicide among firefighters is 18 per 100,000, and law enforcement officers are close behind at 17 per 100,000, as opposed to 13.5 per 100,000 for the general population (CDC, 2021).
● In 2024, there were 143 first responder suicides reported in the U.S. (1st Help, 2024).
● Since 2018, more than 1,405 suicides among U.S. first responders have been reported, with most of them being male officers aged more than 40 years (Blue H.E.L.P., GovTech, 2024).
● In Massachusetts, first responders' suicide rates are 1.5 times the rate of civilians aged 18 to 64 (Mass.gov, 2024).
Underlying Causes: What Drives First Responders to the Edge?
Repeated exposure to death, violence, and human suffering affects first responders. This cumulative trauma depletes emotional resilience over time. As per KPLC News (2024), 80% of first responders have witnessed traumatic events.
Post-incident mental images and intrusive memories are typical. In a 2016 study, 64% of first responders have survivor's guilt, blaming themselves for events beyond their control (Stanley et al., 2016).
The "tough it out" culture continues to predominate among emergency responders. To seek admission of mental distress is often to be seen as weak, with many remaining in silence and coping. The SAMHSA (2018) report identified fewer than 30% of exposed responders requesting help.
Most departments do not have trauma-informed policies, mental health debriefings, or access to trained clinicians. Reactive systems prevail, with no room for proactive or preventative care.
Unusual work schedules, exposure to social trauma, and fear of being judged frequently isolate responders from their families and communities. In the absence of safe spaces to ventilate emotions, many become emotionally isolated.
Long-term sleep deprivation and greater dependence on alcohol or stimulants to manage stress dramatically raise the risk of suicide. EMTs and paramedics are especially vulnerable, with 37% having suicidal ideation and 6.6% having acknowledged attempts (CSSRS, 2024).
These statistics aren't merely numbers—they are lives lost too soon, families destroyed, and institutions compromised. When the rescuers who are trained to save others can't save themselves, we have to ask, what else can we do?
The response starts with visibility, accountability, and empathy. The first is acknowledging the size and scope of the crisis. The second is refusing to stand idly by and let the silence persist.
According to the Ruderman Family Foundation, first responders kill more people by suicide than in the line of duty. Specifically, the suicide rate for firefighters is 18 per 100,000, and law enforcement officers see their rate jump to 17 per 100,000, versus 13.5 per 100,000 among the general population (CDC, 2021).
There were a total of 143 reported first responder suicides in the United States in 2024 alone (1st Help, 2024).
Cumulatively, since 2018, more than 1,405 first responder suicides have been reported across the country, 75% of which were male police officers aged more than 40 years (Blue H.E.L.P., 2024; GovTech, 2024).
In Massachusetts, the suicide rate per 100,000 first responders on average each year from 2018 to 2022 stood at 17.4 — 1.5 times higher than the overall population (Mass.gov, 2024).
"I can still hear her voice. I still see her face." These are the words of an ex-paramedic recollecting a child loss incident that troubled him for years. In contrast to bodily wounds, emotional wounds from watching death, suffering, and violence do not mend themselves.
MyOmnia's Wholeness Model recognizes seven areas of wellness, including mental and spiritual well-being. The Mental domain specifically measures risk indicators like suicidal thoughts, emotional overload, and functional impairment.
Research in the Journal of Occupational Health Psychology discovered that 64% of first responders feel survivor's guilt and replay traumatic calls in their minds over and over again (Stanley et al., 2016).
In addition, about 80% of all first responders indicate that they have been exposed to traumatic events on the job (KPLC, 2024). Among paramedics and EMTs, 37% acknowledge that they have considered suicide, and 6.6% indicate attempts (CSSRS, 2024).
First responders work in a culture of invulnerability, where being vulnerable equates to weakness. There is little room for emotional truth under the "suck it up and move on" philosophy.
"The fear is not just about looking weak—it's about being taken out of the game, losing your badge, your identity," one firefighter anonymously wrote in a New York Times op-ed (NYT, 2022).
It is an institutional stigma. The SAMHSA report (2018) indicates that even with high levels of PTSD and depression, fewer than 30% of impacted responders take advantage of assistance.
MyOmnia's research discloses that Readiness to Change, one of the primary measures in its digital Wholeness Screener, is frequently stifled in responders who are afraid of consequences or who think their pain is "just part of the job"
Whereas physical wounds are addressed with haste, mental health wounds get a fraction of the attention. The majority of agencies continue to have no embedded psychological support, trauma-informed debriefing, or long-term resilience training (The State of First Responder Mental Health, 2025).
Based on MyOmnia's Holistic Resilience Paper, overreliance on reactive crisis counseling instead of proactive well-being approaches is one of the main drivers of the continued mental health deterioration in emergency services (MyOmnia, 2024).
In addition, obstacles such as restricted access in rural departments, absence of trauma-trained personnel, and confidentiality issues strengthen silence instead of solutions.
Every suicide is a story left unfinished. It's the dispatcher who couldn't rest without phantom sirens. The officer who laughed less and less. The EMT who never unwrapped the loss of a baby. These aren't exceptional cases. They're shockingly routine.
And yet, they rarely make the news.
"We only knew something was wrong after the funeral," shared a colleague of a firefighter who died by suicide. The silence is not just cultural—it's fatal.
The crisis of first responder suicide requires more than awareness; it requires revolutionary action at every level of our support systems. Prevention isn't a tactic, it's a full cultural transformation grounded in empathy, evidence, and accessibility.
MyOmnia's peer support circles, which are trauma-informed, provide a basis of common experience and emotional safety. The circles fight loneliness and enable responders to express their distress in a confidential, supportive environment. Peer-led models have been proven to have measurable effectiveness in decreasing symptoms of PTSD and enhancing participation in ongoing mental health care
MyOmnia’s Wholeness Screener doesn’t just measure distress—it also identifies an individual’s readiness to seek support. This dual lens ensures that interventions are not only targeted to those most at risk but also aligned with their openness to engage, improving participation and outcomes. This is a unique innovation in a field often dominated by reactive or one-size-fits-all responses.
Wellness must be led from the top. Agency leaders must model vulnerability, normalize psychological check-ins, and embed emotional literacy into departmental culture. Real change happens when leadership transitions from gatekeeping wellness to championing it.
Policies must require routine psychological debriefings, access to trauma-informed clinicians, and flexible scheduling for recovering responders. Confidentiality, accessibility (rural access included), and trust are essential elements of any care system that aspires to be effective.
Suicide must not be a cause of secret sorrow or institutional silence. By remembering those who died as we would remember those who died in the line of duty, agencies can open up space for healing and take shame out of the process. Public acknowledgment can trigger private discussions and persuade others to seek help before it is too late.
First responders have always been the first to show up. The first to carry us out of wreckage. The first to run into fire. But when it comes to their own struggles, they're often the last to be seen, the last to be heard, and too often, the last to be saved.
This blog isn’t just a reflection on tragedy—it’s a rallying cry.
We owe our heroes more than a handshake and a thank-you. We owe them safe spaces to be vulnerable. Systems that catch them before they fall. Leaders who care as much about mental armor as physical protection. And most of all, we owe them our voices when theirs go unheard.
To every first responder reading this: you are not alone. You are not invisible. And your life matters.
To every loved one, colleague, policymaker, and citizen: don't let this story end in silence.
Share it. Talk about it. Break the stigma.
Because healing begins when the silence ends.
"Heroes are human. Let’s start treating them that way." — MyOmnia
First responders run toward danger for us. The least we can do is run toward their pain with equal urgency. Behind every badge is a story. Behind every uniform is a human.
And behind too many of those are unspoken struggles that, without action, will end in silence.
"You are not weak for struggling. You are human. And humans deserve to be seen, heard, and saved." — MyOmnia
If you're a first responder in crisis, please reach out. You are not alone. Not now. Not ever.
● Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (2021). Suicides Among First Responders
● Blue H.E.L.P. (2024). The Numbers
● GovTech (2024). First Responder Suicide Rates
● KPLC News (2024). Suicide Rate Among First Responders Continues to Rise ● Columbia Suicide Severity Rating Scale (CSSRS). First Responder Statistics ● Benchmark Analytics. Officer Trauma and Wellness
● U.S. Fire Administration. Suicide Data
● National Institutes of Health (2024). PTSD in First Responders ● New York Post (2025). Nassau Police Suicide Reports
● MyOmnia Publications (2024–2025): Informed-Wholeness Model, Holistic Resilience Paper, Measuring Wholeness Report, and The State of First Responder Mental Health white paper.
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