Forest Lake nonprofit is using grant from opioid settlement to help struggling first responders

Many first responders in Minnesota are silently struggling. The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) reports that 30% of first responders develop behavioral health conditions like depression and PTSD as compared to 20% of the general population.

Russ Hanes was one of them. “I was having suicidal ideations, and I hated who I had become. I was a bad father, husband, and was making bad decisions at work that were impacting myself and those I worked with.” Hanes spent 17 years in public safety working as a police officer, corrections officer, and 911 dispatcher. In 2016, he hit a breaking point, even having suicidal ideations. “I was really struggling with my mental health and was looking around for services, and there was nothing for first responders. I didn’t want people like me, struggling, to be told, ‘hey there’s nothing out there for you.’”

Hanes experience is what led him to create the Invisible Wounds Project, a non-profit based in Forest Lake that recently received a $30,000 grant from Washington County this year as part of the opioid settlement funds. The Invisible Wounds Project works to positively impact the mental health and wellness of those who served or serve in the military, as well as police, fire, EMS, frontline medical staff, corrections, dispatch, and their families.

“You can’t do these jobs without having exposure to some pretty traumatic things,” Hanes added.

The gap in services and the assumption that veterans and first responders have to be strong and stoic was a deadly combination Hanes decided to address. “At some point, they have to have a spot that is safe and allows them to take off that armor and heal their wounds, and that’s what the Invisible Wounds project is all about. That’s what our space is about.”

The 1,500 square foot support center in Forest Lake was designed to support and encourage connection with a lounge and game room area where guests and their families can connect playing billiards, darts, bubble hockey, and other games. There is also a wood shop, arts studio, and workout space among other offerings. Every Wednesday and Friday, the support center hosts what it calls coffee and conversation, which is as simple as an open door and coffee and donuts for people to make one-on-one connections.  “When you’re struggling and isolating, it compounds the issues you’re having,” Hanes explained. “When people get out of their house and connect with other people, there is such a massive improvement in their mental health. It’s at the point where it’s saving lives.”

Hanes has many examples of how the work saves lives, including a card he found on his desk recently that read, “Thank you guys for giving me a space to be. I wasn’t planning on living past this week. I made plans to get everything organized enough and say my goodbyes.” The author wrote that a friend who knew he wasn’t doing well suggested he start coming to the Invisible Wounds Project. He did and wrote, “I didn’t think I had a place to be, but this week I was able to cry, be loved by strangers, and see those strangers turn into friends. After this week, I’m going to hold on for a bit longer.”

The sentiment of the card is not uncommon. Hanes says he’s seeing about 1,000 people come into the support center every year and doing about one to two suicide interventions a week. To know the Invisible Wounds Project is making a difference is everything to him. “It makes it all worth it. It is our why: why we started this and why we have this space.”

To learn more about the Invisible Wounds Project, please visit: https://www.iwproject.org.