In the high-pressure world of corrections, maintaining officers mental wellbeing is a constant struggle. A common piece of advice shared among officers is to “turn the switch on and off” — essentially, leave work behind when you go home and vice versa.
While this sounds good in theory, it’s neither practical nor healthy. As Joe Pomponio and I discussed in a recent Tier Talk episode, this approach oversimplifies a complex issue and can lead to emotional disconnection, burnout and even damage to personal relationships.
Corrections officers don’t simply shed the emotions and stress of the job once they leave the facility. Over time, those pressures compound, leading to frustration, emotional exhaustion and potential burnout if not managed appropriately. More importantly, trying to compartmentalize in such a rigid way forces officers to internalize stress, making it more difficult to decompress in healthy ways.
The inescapable blend of roles
Working in corrections isn’t just a job — it becomes part of who you are. The idea that you can neatly divide your “home self” and your “work self” ignores the reality that your roles as an officer, spouse, parent and friend often overlap. Officers bring elements of their home life to work and, whether they realize it or not, carry the stress of the job back to their families. You may be thinking about missed family events while dealing with an inmate crisis, or feeling the weight of a tough day at work when you sit down for dinner at home.
Joe and I believe that rather than trying to completely separate these worlds, officers need to learn how to balance them. The key is not to “turn off” who you are, but to maintain a consistent sense of self across all aspects of your life. You don’t stop being a compassionate person when you put on your uniform, nor should you stop being vigilant and protective when you’re with your family.
This integration of roles becomes even more critical when officers experience traumatic events at work. Consider a situation where an officer witnesses or responds to an inmate’s suicide. This is not something that can or should be easily brushed aside. Officers may instinctively want to shield their families from these experiences, thinking they’re protecting them. However, this internalization of trauma often leads to emotional distance, which can erode relationships over time.
It’s essential to communicate with loved ones. Sharing the emotional toll of these experiences in a way that respects boundaries, without diving into explicit or gory details, allows officers to maintain emotional health. As Joe mentioned, discussing the emotional impact of events with a spouse or close family member — who knows you outside of your uniform — can be critical for your mental wellbeing. This doesn’t mean burdening them with every detail but opening up about how certain events are affecting you.
The danger of extremes
In corrections, living at the extremes — either always in “corrections mode” or trying to entirely shut off that side of yourself — can be harmful. Constantly flipping the switch back and forth not only causes emotional strain but also risks alienating loved ones. Over time, this can lead to the very real possibility of officers becoming disconnected from their families and losing a critical source of support.
A significant part of the problem with this “on-off switch” mentality is that it promotes an unhealthy idea: that we can and should compartmentalize our emotional selves based on where we are and what role we’re playing at the moment. But that’s not how emotions work. While it’s necessary to maintain professionalism at work and manage stress at home, ignoring your emotional health in either setting will inevitably cause damage.
Joe gave a clear example of this when he spoke about his personal experiences — how he’s witnessed officers become emotionally withdrawn because they were internalizing the challenges of the job. This withdrawal can manifest in various ways, from anger and frustration to complete detachment from both work and personal life.
What we need to emphasize is that vulnerability is not weakness. If you’re struggling with something, whether it’s at work or home, it’s important to talk about it. Failure to do so can lead to greater emotional distance and, ultimately, burnout. The correctional role doesn’t make us immune to mental health struggles, and acknowledging that is the first step toward protecting your wellbeing.
Maintaining balance: The power of vulnerability
The real challenge for officers is to find a balance between their personal and professional lives. It’s important to be able to discuss what happens at work with family members or friends — at least to the extent that it helps you process difficult emotions. As Joe pointed out, it’s not about sharing every gory detail but being open about how you feel and allowing those close to you to provide support. This vulnerability doesn’t make you weak — it makes you human.
On the flip side, it’s equally important to be compassionate and human at work. It’s a mistake to think that being a corrections officer means shutting off your empathy. Compassion, when properly managed, can actually make you a more effective officer. Officers often fear that compassion makes them vulnerable to manipulation, but the reality is that balanced compassion fosters stronger relationships with both inmates and colleagues. The key is not to allow emotions to control you but to maintain control over your emotions.
By controlling emotions rather than suppressing them, officers can better maintain that balance. It’s not about being “hard” or “soft,” but about being professional while acknowledging the human side of things. Understanding that emotions will bleed into every role you play — whether as a father, mother, spouse, or officer — allows you to navigate those roles with clarity and integrity.
Long-term consequences of emotional suppression
One of the most significant dangers of trying to live by the “on-off switch” metaphor is the long-term toll it takes on your mental health. When you internalize too much and try to compartmentalize extreme emotions, it creates a disconnect between who you are and how you function. Over time, this leads to cognitive dissonance — when your beliefs don’t match your actions, creating a persistent feeling of discomfort or unease.
The real danger here is that officers may start to justify unhealthy behaviors, chalking them up to the demands of the job. This leads to a further emotional disconnect, where officers may convince themselves that their detachment from family or inability to manage stress is just part of the job. But that’s not true, and living in this constant state of cognitive dissonance can lead to deeper issues such as PTSD, depression, or anxiety.
The antidote to this is emotional balance. It’s okay to feel — whether that’s at work or home. It’s okay to talk to people about what you’re going through. In fact, it’s necessary. As Joe said, having someone in your life who can ground you — whether it’s a spouse, friend, or colleague — helps you maintain that balance. You need that person who can remind you that it’s okay to be vulnerable, to show your human side, without losing the professionalism that the job demands.
Conclusion
The idea of “turning the switch on and off” is outdated and damaging. Instead of trying to compartmentalize your life into rigid categories, embrace the idea that who you are at work and at home is fundamentally the same person. By finding balance, maintaining open communication, and not being afraid to show vulnerability, correctional officers can protect their mental health and strengthen their relationships.
In corrections, it’s not about living in extremes. It’s about recognizing that your experiences, emotions, and values are integrated into everything you do. When you allow yourself to be human — both at work and at home — you give yourself the best chance to thrive.
Corrections1 is using generative AI to create some content that is edited and fact-checked by our editors.
