9-1-1 and Dispatch

 I have learned if you have PTSD and not an actual emergency in my area, no one will be called out. Due to a recent event my daughter, who is 20 and autistic, called 911.  My daughter stated someone hit my car with their bike, the man was yelling at us, and I was in a panic attack.  Due to no injury, there was nothing dispatch could do.  

Let’s back up a little bit to 2016. In 2016 I actually hit a pedestrian. I broke their femur and they had some bumps and bruises too. They survived thankfully. It took years before I could finally accept the fact that she was fine and I needed to let go of the guilt I was carrying around with me. 

Fast forward back to May 14th. My daughter wasn’t on her phone. She always pay attention to our surroundings while I drive. She knows living on campus that people are stupid. This time was no different. She let me know there was a bike pulling out of our subdivision as I was pulling in. I swerved just a little bit and stopped. The bike then swerved into me and hit me. Hitting me hard enough that my side passenger mirror was pushed up against my window. He proceeded to yell at us stating I ran over his foot. By now I was in a PTSD attack. I just told my daughter to call 911. I needed them to deal with it. 

The man saw we were calling them and now on the phone with dispatch. The man rode his bike off. The problem now is he isn’t no one where to be found. My car isn’t really damaged but my mirror. She told dispatch this. They said they wouldn’t send anyone out. She stated I was having a panic attack. They stated again, they were not sending anyone out. We hung up. 

The problem with all of this is, I was pulling into my subdivision. I was now blocking traffic. I had to find a way to get out of traffic’s way. Honestly, I didn’t know how to do that.  I managed to move up just enough where I thought it was going to be ok. I still was blocking traffic for the most part. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think, nothing. My daughter was just popping candy in my mouth. That was keeping me grounded enough. As I am grabbing my arms as tightly as I can. Digging my fingers into my arm. You could see my fingerprints in my arms. Thankfully I had no nails. 

She texted her boyfriend who is a former volunteer firefighter. He came over in the rain. He got my door up open and tried to talk to me. He grabbed my bag of fidgets and tried to ground me more. It took him to come and get me focused on him before I could think about driving. He did finally coach me enough to get home. I made it safe and in the house. 

What is angering me is dispatch. That they couldn’t find a way to get help to me. We had to find other means to get me help. They couldn’t call an officer out to help defuse the situation. It wouldn’t have pulled them away that long. Maybe 20 minutes. Long enough to calm me down to get me home. Dispatch refused and I don’t understand why. 

I have emailed our dispatch center and other contacts who share that office. I have emailed the police station of my city. I emailed our city's NAMI team as well. I am trying to find help for others. Help me too in case this happens again. Dispatch needs to find better ways in communicating with residents who are suffering from mental illness. Right now they are not handling it. 

We are being blown off. We are left to our own devices. The only people to email me back were NAMI and our local police station. The police station apologized for dispatch. They don’t understand  why they weren’t called out. The person who responded has PTSD themselves. They let me know 31 out of 59 officers are trained in mental health. There are people on the force that are trained. 

No one cared enough to call them. No one seems to care about those who suffer from mental illness. No one seems to care that sometimes we need love and help too. Instead we are met with you are not injured, your vehicle is not damaged, so we can’t help. Why does it always take someone getting hurt before someone helps those with mental illness. Why does it take that before it shows someone cares about us. 

I matter too. As I emailed the officer back today. I told him I matter too. I matter just as much as the person down the street who has a serious crime going on. I matter too even though they are short staffed. I get it.  I have to matter even though I have a mental illness. I just need to matter to dispatch and to the first responders. Right now, I feel like they don’t care. I feel like they care about us. 

They only care about those with more serious shit going on. Who cares if I am blocking traffic and I can’t move. Maybe I need to be more dramatic next time. That would get their attention. Then maybe they would fucking care.