Every morning, Marietta Police Officer Jonnie Moeller-Reed starts her day by glancing at a small framed photo on her bookshelf. The image shows two smiling men in colorful shirts—fellow officers who died by suicide. That photo, Moeller-Reed says, is her reminder of why her role as the department’s first wellness officer matters.

Moeller-Reed, a 25-year veteran of law enforcement, now leads a growing effort within the Marietta Police Department in Georgia to address a crisis that has long haunted the policing profession: untreated mental trauma.

This crisis isn’t new. But the 2020 murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis marked a watershed moment—not just for social justice, but also for the emotional toll police work takes. The backlash that followed—protests, scrutiny, and public criticism—only worsened the strain on already overstressed officers.

“It was a catalyst moment,” says Andy Carrier, a retired Georgia State Trooper and now Chief Operating Officer at Valor Station, a residential treatment center for first responders. “It put police mental health on the national radar.”

The Mental Cost of Protecting Others

Research paints a grim picture. Police officers are more prone to heart attacks, PTSD, depression, and burnout than the general public. Around 30% struggle with substance abuse, especially alcohol. More police officers have died by suicide than in the line of duty—a chilling reality emphasized by advocacy group First H.E.L.P.

Officers endure trauma at a scale few civilians can fathom. While the average person may experience two to three traumatic events in their lifetime, officers face about 188 over their careers. From responding to domestic violence and fatal crashes to being involved in shootings, the cumulative toll is relentless.

And it’s not just the calls. Internal investigations, long shifts, forced overtime, and a constant shortage of staff create added stress. “That’s when innocence becomes cynicism, curiosity becomes arrogance, and compassion turns into callousness,” Carrier says.

A Culture Beginning to Shift

Officer Austin Turner, 34, has seen firsthand how this stress reshapes officers. After four years on the force, he became increasingly short-tempered, emotionally drained, and less empathetic. One incident—a fatal ambush of fellow officers—haunted him. He started taking time off, leaned on the department’s peer support team, and switched to a less intense shift. “It takes a toll,” he admits. “You bring it home.”

In response, departments like Marietta are fighting back. Beyond peer support, they offer crisis debriefings, Brazilian jiujitsu training, and even a wellness room complete with a massage chair and calming lights. They’ve partnered with local farms to provide therapeutic equine programs, where officers interact with horses to better understand their own emotional state.

A major part of the strategy is education. Officers are trained not just in law enforcement, but in recognizing the physical and mental signs of stress—and learning coping skills. Programs like Georgia’s Public Safety Resiliency Program are helping lay this foundation early, especially for new recruits.

Valor Station: A Lifeline for the Wounded

Facilities like Valor Station, which opened in April in Augusta, Georgia, are providing refuge for officers battling PTSD, depression, and substance abuse. Designed by and for first responders, the month-long residential program includes group therapy, EMDR (a treatment for trauma), and cultural competence—meaning therapists speak the language of cops.

“If you ask a cop to draw the river of life with crayons, they’re going to roll their eyes,” jokes Matthew Carpenter, a former NYPD officer and behavioral scientist. “You need people who get their world.”

Despite progress, stigma remains a powerful barrier. Moeller-Reed urges officers to stop seeing vulnerability as weakness. “Be honest with yourself,” she says. “Ask: Has the job changed me, and not for the better?”

She glances again at the photo of her lost colleagues. “We’re trained to be the helpers, the problem solvers,” she says softly. “But we’ve got to learn to ask for help, too. That might be what saves the next life.”