Mental Health, Suicide, and the Struggle of Identity After Service
June is Mental Health Awareness Month, and while the headlines will spotlight a thousand worthy causes, there’s one conversation that never gets enough airtime — suicide. Particularly among male veterans and cops. And especially among those of us trying to figure out who the hell we are when the badge, the gun, the uniform — or the mission — is no longer there to define us.
Let’s not sugarcoat it.
More than 47,000 people died by suicide in the U.S. last year. Of those, nearly 80% were men. It’s the leading cause of death for men between the ages of 18 and 44. You know what else? A veteran dies by suicide every 57 minutes. Law enforcement officers — both active and retired — consistently die by suicide at rates higher than line-of-duty deaths. In fact, in recent years, we’ve lost more officers to suicide than to any other cause combined.
These aren’t just statistics. These are brothers. Sisters. Partners. Friends. They’re people like us — people who wore a uniform, who served something bigger than themselves, who once had clarity of mission and identity. People who now wake up and aren’t sure who they are anymore. Or if they matter.
I know this because I’ve lived it.
When the Mission Ends, the Questions Begin
I joined public service when I was just a kid — 16 years old, EMT cert in hand, showing up to emergencies before I even had facial hair. That life shaped me. So did Ground Zero, the police academy, the beat, the weight of responsibility, the pride of the uniform. I thrived in it. I found identity in it. For a long time, it was my identity.
But what happens when the mission ends?
When I left law enforcement, I thought I’d be ready. I had a plan, I had goals — business, family, purpose. But I wasn’t ready for the silence. I wasn’t ready for the lack of urgency. I wasn’t ready for the weird feeling that, somehow, I was now just a guy. Not the guy someone called when their world was falling apart. Not the guy in the arena. Just… a guy.
And now? I serve in the Coast Guard Reserve — a proud moment in my life, but again, I know that tour has an end date too. I’ll age out of this uniform just like I did the last. And then what?
That’s the question so many of us wrestle with.
Identity Isn’t Just a Uniform
If you’re reading this and you’ve ever worn a badge, a uniform, or stood a post — you know what I mean. The uniform isn’t just fabric. It’s a compass. It tells the world who you are. More importantly, it tells you who you are. When it’s gone, you don’t just lose a job — you lose the identity that came with it.
Here’s what I’ve learned the hard way: identity doesn’t disappear when the uniform comes off. It just shifts. And if we don’t shift with it, if we cling to who we were without figuring out who we’re becoming — that’s when the danger sets in. That’s when the darkness creeps in. That’s when you hear the voices whispering, “You peaked already.”
“You don’t matter anymore.”
“No one needs you now.”
It’s a lie. But it’s a convincing one.
The Hard Work of Becoming
Rebuilding your identity post-service is not about reinventing yourself into something flashy. It’s not about becoming someone else. It’s about honoring who you were while accepting that there’s more to your story. More to be written. New chapters. New roles.
For me? I’m learning to embrace being a husband. A father. An entrepreneur. A mentor. A guy who still gets fired up at the range and sometimes dreams of patrol lights — but who also finds peace sitting on a dock with my kid, talking about life.
And you know what? That’s just as noble as anything I did in uniform. So is being a coach. A volunteer. A retiree. A fisherman. A golfer. A churchgoer. A small business owner. Whatever the next chapter is for you — lean into it.
You’re not dishonoring your past by embracing your future. You’re keeping the story going.
Why We Started Stay Safe
This is the exact reason we built the Stay Safe Foundation. Not just to raise awareness. Not just to honor those we’ve lost. But to fight for the ones still here — and to remind every veteran and every first responder that you are so much more than your job title.
We support those struggling with PTSD, anxiety, identity loss, and suicidal thoughts because we’ve been there. And we’re not interested in clichés or empty “thank you for your service” bumper stickers. We want to help you build your new life — not mourn the old one.
We connect people to mentors. To fitness. To creative outlets. To peer support. To purpose. And sometimes, just to a reminder that they’re not alone.
Because that’s where it starts — not being alone.
Final Thoughts
If you’re reading this and struggling, know this:
- Your pain is real.
- Your confusion is valid.
- Your identity doesn’t have to stay stuck in the past.
You served. You gave. You mattered.
And you still do.
But maybe now is the time to stop clinging to the chapter you finished and start writing the one that’s ahead. You’re not a has-been. You’re a still-becoming. You’re a work in progress. And progress is a damn good thing.
If you need someone to talk to, reach out. To a friend. To a professional. Hell…to a stranger even! Whatever it takes.
The next version of you might be even stronger than the one before.
Eric Basek
Founder, Stay Safe Foundation
Coast Guard Reserve | Former LEO | Dad | Fighter | Still Becoming