uniforms

this is going to be a rant.

i'll just get that out of the way now.

this is going to be a one sided, opinion heavy, curse word filled, angry, mean, probably offensive to some, rant.

now that that's out of the way...

listen up fake ass bitches:

WHEN YOU SAY YOU LOVE A MAN IN UNIFORM, DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE SAYING? 

i am SICKENED. absolutely sick. hateful, mean, angry sick when i hear about women who think it's "so hot" to date a soldier, cop, firefighter, EMT because they "love a man in uniform" only to break up because they don't like the job, it's too stressful, the hours are shitty, deployments are too hard, whatever.

LISTEN YOU FUCKWITS: "loving a uniform" is a fucking fetish. go to a god damn costume shop and cream your panties all you like.

if you date a man in uniform, KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS.

do you want to know what that means?

it means the job is stressful, the hours are shitty and deployments are hard.

you want to date a cop? guess what, that means missed dinners because a shift went long when they had to scrape a human being off a highway after a drunk driving accident.

you want to date a firefighter? that means worrying each call that a backdraft doesn't happen, a structure doesn't cave in, a tree doesn't shoot off like a bottle rocket, the fucking wind doesn't shift directions.

want to date a soldier? that means months alone while they're on deployment. that means regulations, rules, codes. that means being at the fucking whim of the US government.

it ALL means dealing with some form of PTSD at some point. it means shitty, and i mean SHITTY days of coworkers dying, dealing with the worst of humanity, things that can't ever, ever be unseen.

even on the BEST POSSIBLE DAY it means going to the aid of people who are having a shitty, shitty day. the cops and firefighters don't respond when everything is going right. soldiers very, VERY rarely are deployed to places where things are peachy keen jelly bean.

i am SO SICK of hearing:
"we got divorced because she doesn't like me going on deployment."
"we split up because she didn't realize how stressful the job is."
"i can't be with him because he misses all the important events because he's on shift."

AS IF ALL THAT ISN'T ENOUGH, they get to deal with public opinion, lack of resources across the board from pay to supplies/necessary personnel, stigma, macho-ism (the thin blue line is a thing) AND, the cherry on the fucking top: increased risk of  suicide.

it's shifting, it's starting to change. there's a huge push to let soldiers know they can ask for help dealing with what happens in the field, but there's still a lot of stigma. it's still a hard thing for cops and firefighters.

i mean, for fucks sake, even fucking trump decided to open his shit hole and vomit out that "...military suicides happen to troops who 'can't handle it'."

you know what? THEY CAN'T.

THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT.

NO ONE SHOULD HAVE TO. THIS IS SOME GRADE A FUCKED UP SHIT THAT NO ONE SHOULD HAVE TO DEAL WITH.

ESPECIALLY not alone. we need to help them, have help available to them.

no one should have to deal with scraping another human being off a roadway. telling a child their parent overdosed. pulling a charred body out of a burned building. watching a fellow soldier be blown apart inches away. 

BUT THESE PEOPLE CHOOSE TO TAKE THAT RISK.

and the very, VERY last fucking thing they need is to be dumped on. by politicians, by partners, by ANYONE. they don't need someone with a fucking megaphone mouth calling them weak or bashing them on the 5:00 news. they don't need a dear john letter in the middle of combat. they don't need to return home from deployment to a voice mail from a divorce attorney. they don't need someone who walks away because they miss dinner or have been working long shifts.

they need support systems. stigma free help. partners that don't run away when the "hot uniform" feeling wears off.

i'm the great-granddaughter of a constable. i'm the granddaughter of a cop. i'm the daughter of a state trooper. i'm the sister of a sheriff's deputy. i was married to a volunteer firefighter. my mom ran dispatch for fire crews for several years.

i have blue blood back 4 generations.

guess what that means?

it means divorce (or several). it means being glued to the tv dreading a phone call when you hear "officer involved shooting" on your brother's shift and beat. it means getting a few precious hours with your dad during your one week a year because he's working. it means stopping and sending up a prayer during the hot beautiful summer weather because you know fire season is happening. it means knowing mom will be gone another 4 weeks because they don't have enough crews to get a line around the fire. it means waking up at 4 am when the pager goes off and making sure boots and gear and coffee are ready to go out the door. it means making 100 sandwiches when the red cross hasn't been able to respond. it means bawling your eyes out whenever and where ever your hear amazing grace on bagpipes because you've been to too many funerals where that's played.

you want to love a fucking uniform? good. great. go to fucking spirit halloween store and love them all you want until store employees ask you to leave.

you want to love the person IN the uniform? that's a whole different story.