Empowered to Build a New Life

       I didn't think about disability until I was around 40 years old.  Despite participating in violent sports, and having been warned at a young age that many "old" injuries might come back to haunt me later in life, I never thought I'd be the one.  I was wrong.

     The absolute worst thing about disability is not the pain.  It's not the loss of my career, and the stress on my wife and I to adapt to my new lifestyle.  It's not even the immobility and the Grey boredom that sets in daily.  The worst thing about my disability is the loss of choices.

     I live in a world of pain, which is a constant, but becomes manageable from time to time.  I daydream about the skills I've mastered and how to deploy them in a new career.  My wife and I discover daily that hell and high water, we still love one another, and have painfully learned to ride out the bumps.  My sedentary life gives me opportunity to read more, and work on a book that I've always thought was inside of me.

     But, damn all it's hard not to feel like a victim.  When I was young, knowing the stats on disability didn't convince me that I'd ever become a "gimp" (No, that's "Gimp".  Say it with pride!).  My attitude changed at around the age of 40.  I got scared.

     Poor people are afraid they'll run out of money; rich people are afraid that they'll lose their money.  It this point in my life I was in my peak earning years, and thing were really looking-up.

     Ten or fifteen more years of hard work, with 3/4's of my workday spent building a fortress around my job so that I could safely pull down some serious wood (money), and my wife and I would be set.  The kids schools would be paid for, including graduate school, with enough left over for starter money for houses and such; my wife and I saw a straight path to luxurious retirement.  Then BAM!

     Anyone who says that money won't make you happy, has never bought a pair of shoes when suffering the blues.  Of course it makes you happy.  That's not to say you can't be happy without it, but you stuff has to wired tight.  Most of my work life was pretty miserable, and in exchange for that misery, you get money.  Today I can tell you money for misery is a bad trade.

     Things still look pretty good, but not through the rose colored glasses that were my lenses.

     I found my kids.  I am now finding what love for my wife means.  I watch "The Office", and deeply identify with the woman who works for the corporate office.  I could tell you a lot about what her days are like.

     The big choice is gone:  HOW MUCH SHOULD I PAY TO ASSURE PERMANENT WEALTH?  It's gone and I miss it. 

     But look at the new stuff I got instead.  That's a good trade.

     At least I don't look at the sanitation man anymore thinking he's really got it made.  God bless, Colin

Comments

[Josh]

I never fail to get a cathartic experience every time reading your posts. Bravo!