One Flew Over the Policeman’s Nest

2002 and I'm working on the Americas Cup campaign and have the best job ever.  Syndicate, Hospitality and Super Yacht liaison officer...Blackheart campaign and all.  Then another few years working on squads that made me feel like a policeman again.  Threat Assessment Unit, Informant Management, Intelligence and..oh yes Operation Eight.  Kept me going for a few years before reality began to strike home again.

The protest on parliament's lawn in New Zealand was another place where the police have been used as the face of the government and given, protesters, rioters, criminals and anybody else who has nothing better to do with their time, the opportunity to take their anger out on the people who joined the police to protect them.  Did the police do a good job.  Bloody oath they did, and they did it without the tools, equipment and training that would have better equipped them.  Those failures are the responsibility of this and the other government's before them who all did their best to satisfy the minority at the expense of keeping the  majority safe.

I'd left the CIB and went back to my roots, a wooden top.  It was going well until I was responsible for a mans death.

Respite care sent was a result of not dealing with a previous breakdown in 1999.  I was still going to be useless after 2016 but at least I learned something.   Policing broke the camels back in 1999 but didn't do much to put me back on track.

If I thought I was at rock bottom I was sadly mistaken as a night in respite care crippled my mind and sent me downwards until I could go down no further.

With the euphoria of my daughters wedding over it was time to face the realities of life as a broken policeman and leave leave the job of uncovering what makes me tick to people who's job it is to uncover the frailties of an individual.

Head injuries aren't what you expect when you leave the police.  They tend to be acquired while working in the job.  Anyway this episode covers an apology for the delay as apologies are the thing to do these days.  It also carries on and outlines my return to Auckland and dealing with my daughters wedding while I try to protect myself from looking like a complete and utter idiot. 

A cuckoo or not ??...bloody oath I am.  Poor decision making by a person who should know better sends a policeman over the edge and into the dark hole called depression.

After the door to the police station closed behind me I was fucked.  The locking of the door behind me meant I was now on a collision course with depression and I wasn't going to come out of it very well. 

33 years in the police did not prepare me for dealing with my own crash.  This episode outlines  my last day at work before I sough police in some pills