Bree’s Army

A beautiful 21-year-old dancer fell to her death a few years ago on the Gold Coast. When I first saw the news, there was a cacophony of feelings. Sunday Night screened a detailed segment regarding this tragedy on the weekend. They showed us who Bree Robinson was, who her remarkable family are, and certainly who her boyfriend is.

It is astonishing that a certain individual has gotten away with so much, for so long. If you know a little of my history, you will understand why this is personal for me, and I take it very personally indeed. I was hoping that over twenty years since my fall, the legal system might have caught up to public expectation.

Bree’s family and friends have started a Facebook page, Bree’s Army , to collate information, support, and to demand justice for Bree and for many other women. Please like and share the link. This young lady’s family deservesĀ  justice, and her life deserves to be remembered for bringing about lasting change.

 

PTSD in the Police Force.

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I have just watched a story on PTSD regarding the police force on Sunday Night
I thought about every police officer who came into my life as a child. The ones who took weapons off my brother and escorted him to psychiatric hospitals, who entered the family home to encounter blood, shattered glass and screaming. The ones who took me in their arms, and comforted me. The ones who tried to make it all better. They attended our home over fifty times. I think of the Sergeant who found me the night I was pushed. I was broken, in and out of consciousness and spitting up blood. He knelt beside me, stroking my hair. As the paramedics assembled the spinal board, he wept. I tried to comfort him, this beautiful bear of a man. He stayed by my side in emergency. My parents weren’t there, this angel was. He tried everything in his power to get the monster immediately charged in a bedside hearing. What has become of all these men and women who stepped into such violent and horrific scenes, not only in my life, but so many others? I think of them often, pray for them, and hope that they are still intact, in spite of it all.

I have PTSD, and when it is active, it is a living hell. Months can pass and all will be well, but then a newspaper article, song or harmless comment will open the gates. The sooner you get proper help, the better your outcome. I wasn’t allowed to talk about what went on in the year I was away from home. I was told to “forget about it.” The worst advice you can ever receive. You shut down, and try to drown out the memories in any way possible. This entices the memories to fight for breath, becoming more determined. These officers need immediate assistance, not to be stalled by red tape. Insurance companies dealing with their claims need a complete overhaul. Financial help needs to be offered immediately. It is long overdue. It is time. To be demeaned, and have your distress questioned is obscene. These officers see moreĀ during a shift than most people would in their lifetime. Give them what they are due, and do it now.