Why “Just Talk to Someone” Isn’t Enough
When mental health finally comes up in EMS, the advice is usually simple.
“Talk to someone.”
“Reach out.”
“Use your EAP.”
On the surface, it sounds supportive. But for many first responders, it lands hollow. Because the problem isn’t that people don’t know they should talk.
The problem is that the systems around them make it incredibly hard to do so in any meaningful way.
“Just talk to someone” assumes:
• You have time
• You have energy
• You feel safe
• You trust the process
• And the person you talk to understands this work
For many in EMS, none of those are guaranteed.
Talking requires space, and EMS rarely offers space. It requires slowing down enough to feel what you’ve been outrunning. It requires vulnerability in a culture that still quietly punishes it. It requires trust in systems that have often proven unreliable.
And too often, the support offered is reactive, impersonal, or disconnected from the realities of the job.
An EAP number taped to the wall doesn’t help when:
• Appointments are weeks out
• Providers don’t understand EMS culture
• Sessions are limited
• Confidentiality feels questionable
• Or you’re too exhausted to even make the call
So people don’t use it.
Not because they don’t care about their mental health, but because the barrier is too high when they’re already depleted.
Another problem with “just talk to someone” is that it subtly places responsibility back on the individual.
If you’re struggling, the message becomes:
You didn’t reach out enough.
You didn’t advocate for yourself.
You didn’t do the work.
Meanwhile, the system remains unchanged.
Talking helps, but only when it’s paired with:
• Time
• Safety
• Cultural competence
• Ongoing support
• And structural change
Without those, it becomes a checkbox — something organizations can point to as proof they care, without actually addressing the conditions causing harm.
First responders don’t need platitudes. They need embedded support. Support that understands shift work, trauma exposure, and the cost of constant vigilance.
Support that shows up before crisis. Support that doesn’t require people to be at their worst to qualify.
Peer support matters.
Leadership matters.
Protected time matters.
And just as importantly — being believed matters.
Being able to say:
• “This is affecting me.”
• “I’m not okay after that call.”
• “I need a break.”
Without fear of judgment, retaliation, or being quietly sidelined.
If we truly want to support mental health in EMS, we have to move beyond slogans. We have to stop pretending that access equals care. We have to stop outsourcing responsibility to individuals who are already stretched thin.
Talking is a start. But it is not a solution by itself.
Real support is proactive, accessible, trauma-informed, and woven into the fabric of the job.
Until that happens, “just talk to someone” will continue to feel like an empty answer to a very real problem.
And this, too, lives in the space between calls.