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Toni Mattson

Carrying the Weight: How We Can Rewrite Recovery for our Heroes



I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to carry the weight of the world. Not in some metaphorical, “save-the-day” kind of way, but in a very real, bone-deep, “can’t-set-it-down” way. You know what I mean. If you’re a veteran or a first responder, you live it. Every. Single. Day.


You don’t just wear the uniform—you carry the weight of what comes with it. The pressure, the trauma, the loss. The stuff most people can’t even imagine. And when that weight gets too heavy, we know what happens, right? It doesn’t just go away. It builds, brick by brick, until it’s unbearable. But here’s the thing: it doesn’t have to be that way. We can change it. We can rewrite recovery so it works for you.


And yeah, I’m not a veteran. I’m not a first responder. I’m not a mental health professional either. But I’ve spent the last 15 years working with veterans and first responders, and one thing is crystal clear: the way we talk about trauma, the way we handle it, needs to change. It’s time to Drop the “D,” Shatter the Stigma, and Find Your Fit.


Let’s break that down.


 

Drop the "D" in PTSD


You’ve heard it a million times—Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. It’s the official label, the diagnosis, the thing that’s supposed to explain why you feel the way you do. But here’s the question I’ve been asking: What if it’s not a disorder? What if what you’re experiencing is exactly what anyone would experience if they went through what you’ve been through?


I’ve talked with a lot of veterans about this, and their reactions were, well, explosive. Dropping the “D” wasn’t just a minor change in language—it was a lifeline. Suddenly, they weren’t “broken” or “disordered.” They were human. And when we stop labeling it as a disorder, it changes everything. It makes it easier to reach out, to ask for help, because it doesn’t feel like admitting to some kind of flaw.

One veteran told me straight up, “If asking for help didn’t feel so degrading, we wouldn’t have lost so many friends to suicide.” That hit me hard. And it’s not just veterans—First Responders feel it too. Of the 18 million veterans in the U.S., almost 6,500 die by suicide every year. For the 4.6 million first responders, nearly 2,000 die by suicide annually.


These are the people who save lives. And yet, the weight they carry is pulling them under. We need to drop the “D.”


 

Shattering the Stigma


Let’s talk about the stigma around mental health for a second. We all know it’s there, lurking. It’s what keeps so many of you from reaching out, from asking for help when you know you need it. Why? Because of the fear of being labeled. The fear of being seen as weak or incapable. The fear of risking your job, your reputation, your team’s trust. I get it.


But here’s where we need to change the conversation. Words matter. Instead of saying someone is “suffering from PTSD” or “struggling with mental illness,” we need to start saying they’re “navigating mental wellness” or “experiencing Post-Traumatic Stress.” It’s subtle, but those shifts in language make a huge difference.


It’s about normalizing the need for help, making it okay to say, “Hey, this is tough, and I need some support.” We need to stop talking about mental health like it’s a problem to be fixed. It’s not about fixing anything—it’s about finding balance and giving people the space to heal without judgment. That’s how we shatter the stigma.


 

Finding Your Fit


Recovery isn’t one-size-fits-all. What works for one person might not work for the next, and that’s okay. Finding your fit is about figuring out what kind of support resonates with you. For some, it’s traditional therapy. For others, it’s equine-assisted learning (that’s where we come in). And for others still, it might be peer support or something entirely different.


At Trinity, we’ve seen the power of finding the right fit. I’ll never forget the veteran who showed up angry, resistant—he wanted nothing to do with us. But the second he stepped into the pasture and connected with one of our horses, everything shifted. A massive Friesian mare trotted right up to him, put her head on his chest, and just stayed there. That moment cracked something open in him. The next thing we knew, he was talking, laughing, and coming back week after week.


Several weeks later, he showed up with a suicide note in his pocket. But after finding his fit, he ripped it up. That’s the power of finding what works for you.


 

The Backpack and the Bricks


We all carry a backpack. It’s not a physical one, but it might as well be. Over time, it fills up with bricks—traumatic experiences that weigh us down. And the more bricks we add, the heavier it gets. You’ve got bricks like being first on the scene of a car accident, losing a friend to an IED, or being a first responder at a mass casualty event. Each of those moments adds another brick, and soon, the weight becomes unbearable.


But asking for help? That feels impossible. Maybe you think it’ll make you look weak. Maybe you’re worried about your job, your benefits, or how your team will see you. So, you keep carrying that backpack, hoping you can handle it. But here’s the truth: no one can carry that kind of weight forever. And you don’t have to.


 

So, What Now?


This isn’t just about saying “you should get help” or “go talk to someone.” It’s about rewriting the way we think about mental health and recovery—together. It’s about creating a community where it’s okay to say, “This is heavy, and I can’t carry it alone.”


You’re not defined by a diagnosis, a label, or even your past. You’re defined by how you rise from it. And I know you can rise because I’ve seen it. I’ve seen what hopelessness looks like, but I’ve also seen what happens when hope starts to seep back in. It’s slow, it’s subtle, but it’s always there, waiting for a connection to spark it.


Sometimes that connection comes from something as simple as a horse brushing against your arm. Other times, it’s more profound—a moment where everything clicks, and suddenly, the weight starts to lift. Recovery isn’t about fixing you. It’s about helping you let go of the weight you’ve been carrying, brick by brick, so there’s space for healing.


 

Let’s Do Better


We owe it to you to do better. To rewrite recovery in a way that works for you. So, how do we change how mental health is perceived? How do we rewrite recovery for our Heroes?


  1. Drop the “D” in PTSD – Stop treating trauma like it’s a disorder. It’s a natural part of your job, and it’s time we stop making it feel like an exception.

  2. Shatter the Stigma – The words we use matter. We need to stop using language that makes asking for help feel like admitting weakness. Let’s start talking about mental health with compassion and understanding.

  3. Find Your Fit – Healing doesn’t look the same for everyone. People need to feel safe enough to explore what works for them. This is where real, lasting healing happens.


 

You’ve shown us courage and strength beyond measure. Now it’s time for us to show up for you—to be your biggest supporters, to change the conversation, and to help you find the support that works for you. Together, we can rewrite recovery and reshape how mental health is perceived.

We can do better. And we will.


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