I’d Rather Talk Than Listen to Your Eulogy: Breaking the Silence on Police Officer Suicide
I’d Rather Talk Than Listen to Your Eulogy: Breaking the Silence on Police Officer Suicide
By Dennis Carradin, Jr., LPCMH, NCC, BCETS
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
— Matthew 5:9
There are things I wish I never had to say, but I say them anyway—because not saying them would be worse.
One of them is this:
I would rather spend hours talking with you than listening to your eulogy.
I’d rather take that call at 2 a.m.
I’d rather meet you at the station, the bar, the coffee shop—anywhere—than be handed a folded flag with your name etched into silence.
This is not hyperbole. This is the real and gut-wrenching truth of what so many in law enforcement are facing. The numbers prove it. The stories confirm it. And the silence surrounding it is deafening.
The Unseen Epidemic in Law Enforcement
We train officers to survive ambushes, hostage situations, and deadly force encounters. But we don't train them nearly well enough to survive the quiet ambushes of trauma, of isolation, of grief, of unresolved guilt, and of a soul stretched too thin.
According to Blue H.E.L.P.—a nonprofit dedicated to tracking officer suicides—at least 105 law enforcement officers died by suicide in 2023 in the U.S. alone. The number is likely higher, hidden behind undetermined causes or silent shame.
In comparison, 47 officers died in the line of duty from firearms that same year. That means officers are more than twice as likely to die by suicide than by gunfire.
Let that sink in.
Behind the badge, behind the uniform, is a human being. A spouse. A parent. A son or daughter. Someone who has been asked to witness the worst moments of humanity and carry it all without faltering.
A System Built on Silence
Law enforcement culture is steeped in strength. It’s what allows officers to charge into danger while others run the opposite direction. But that same culture has often taught officers that admitting pain is weakness—that asking for help is equivalent to laying down your weapon.
It’s not.
The truth is this: Seeking help is not a betrayal of the badge. It is a testament to your courage.
The strongest thing you can do is say, “I’m not okay.”
The bravest thing you can do is pick up the phone and talk to someone who gets it.
The Invisible Toll of Service
Police officers face trauma at a rate most civilians will never comprehend. They respond to child deaths. Domestic violence. Suicides. Fatal accidents. Shootings. They see the worst day of everyone else's life—over and over and over again.
And after the scene is cleared and the paperwork is filed, they’re expected to go home and “be normal.”
But how do you come home after holding a dying child and carry on like it didn’t happen?
How do you sleep after using your weapon for the first time?
How do you tell your spouse you’re okay when you feel anything but?
The trauma doesn’t just stick—it metastasizes.
Unchecked, it turns into hypervigilance, irritability, insomnia, nightmares, substance use, fractured relationships, hopelessness, and eventually… despair.
I’ve Seen It Firsthand
As a trauma therapist who has sat across from countless officers, I’ve seen what this looks like up close. I’ve seen the bravest among us dissolve into tears because they thought they weren’t allowed to feel. I’ve sat with officers who apologized for crying—as if showing emotion made them less of a hero.
I’ve also seen the aftermath of silence. The funeral details. The devastated partners. The ripple of pain across an entire department asking, “Why didn’t we know? Why didn’t he tell us?”
It breaks my heart every single time.
You Are Not Alone
So I say this to every officer reading these words right now:
You are not alone. You are not weak. You are not a burden. You are not broken beyond repair.
There is help. There is hope. There are people—many of us—who want nothing more than to sit beside you in the dark until the light finds its way back.
Please don’t let pride or fear rob you of your life. Don’t let the stigma of mental health rob your children of a parent, your spouse of a partner, your community of a protector.
Your life matters far more than you can imagine.
I would rather talk to you for five hours than cry at your funeral for the rest of my life.
Say something. Text someone. Call me. Call anyone.
Resources and Helplines
If you’re struggling—or you know someone who is—here are confidential resources that are available 24/7:
National Suicide and Crisis Lifeline
Dial 988 (Available 24/7 for anyone in emotional distress or suicidal crisis)
Website: https://988lifeline.orgCopLine – Law Enforcement Officer Hotline
Call 1-800-267-5463
A completely confidential helpline answered by retired officers trained in mental health support.
Website: https://www.copline.orgBlue H.E.L.P.
Offers mental health resources and honors officers lost to suicide.
Website: https://bluehelp.orgThe Trauma Survivors Foundation
Providing peer support, training, and critical incident debriefing for first responders.
Website: https://www.thetraumasurvivorsfoundation.com
Final Thoughts: Let’s Be the Difference
To chiefs, captains, and command staff: The culture starts with you. If your officers believe they’ll lose everything by opening up, they won’t. We must build systems that protect not just the community, but those who serve it.
To partners and loved ones: Ask twice. Let them know they can talk. Listen without trying to fix.
To fellow therapists: Make space for these warriors. Learn their culture. Earn their trust.
And to every officer out there feeling like the darkness is winning—please hold on.
You have stood in the gap for so many.
Let someone stand in the gap for you now.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
— Matthew 5:9
You are not alone. You are not a statistic. You are a life worth saving.
Please stay.