Deep Thoughts on a Friday Night
I remember my job searches when I was young. I would get to the part of the application that asked if I had a disability that would hinder my job performance. I always placed a checkmark where it said, “NO.”
I did that, then my employer hurt my feelings when he or she fired me a few weeks or a few months later. It took a long time to get it through my head; yes, I have a problem I have several problems.
I did the bare minimum to graduate
I graduated from high school in 1978, by the skin of my teeth. I had been in Remedial classes and schools most of my life, what they used to call “ Special Education. The “Normal” kids were a lot crueler, “ Lawson’s in the Retard Class.” That is what I overheard more than once.
I thought I had my issues solved with my diploma. I was confident enough to leave Japan where the Airforce Stationed my dad to go back to the States by myself.
Odessa Texas, “No there, there”
I went to Odessa Texas to live with Relatives. I was nineteen years old and I thought I was a grown man. The brief stay in Odessa was the start of years of heartache.
I moved back home with my tail between my legs when My family came back to the States a year later. I lived at home until my parents passed away.
I have written about my journey in previous stories. I wanted to give A little background to the story you’re now reading. It’s the story of my struggle with self-acceptance.
I didn’t want to accept my disabilities
I never accepted the labels. The Doctors told my parents that I was “Brain Damaged.” They said I would doubtless need to be placed in a Home. After I received my Diploma, I thought I proved the doctors were full of shit.
I did fine in the closed environment of a school with my parents protecting me. I sucked trying to be an adult in an adult world. I was trying to be something I was not.
I wanted to be a working man, but it wasn’t meant to be
I’m not suited to be a tradesman. I have no manual specialty or organizational skills. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, and everything I tried failed.
After I moved back with my parents. They kept talking and pressuring me to attend Vocational Rehabilitation. Vocational Rehabilitation never worked.
I hated every minute of working as a security guard
My parents in desperation insisted I become a security guard. I was a guard for twenty years. That ended when I became homeless. When I was homeless I was under a Doctor’s care. After a series of tests. I found out what I wish I had known years earlier.
I have a host of Neurological and Mental-health issues. There are reasons I have so much trouble functioning. I write about those issues a lot. I do it for therapy.
I’m turning into an old man, I’m cool with that
I turned sixty-five last month. I have been looking back on my life and realized that I’m at peace. I’m on Disability so I don’t have to worry about getting fired.
When I read the Neuro-psych report that said I’m not employable, and I should look into Assisted Living. It was like a load off my shoulders.
I found my calling, I’m a productive content creator
I don’t want to say I gave up. I still have things I can do. I can write and talk. I’m on YouTube and I write. People enjoy my content, most people anyway. I manage to piss people off on occasion, which I find hilarious.
I gave up worrying about employment. I know I have family members who think I gave up and that I’m a parasite. I don’t give a shit what they think they don’t talk to me anyway. What have I lost? Not a damned thing.
I wish I would have understood the depth of my issues earlier
My only regret is that I wasn’t able to find out the extent of my problems earlier. If I had known I wouldn’t have been as hard on myself as I was.
I also wish I had known and understood the importance of controlling my inner dialog. Co-dependency is a terrible thing. My parents meant well, but they reinforced a lot of the negative crap in my brain. I didn’t have to buy into it.
Conclusion:
None of us are perfect. We all have obstacles to overcome. The trick is to not let those roadblocks get you down. If no one will lift you up be your own cheerleader. It’s not easy but you can do it.
Don’t wait until you’re in your sixties to accept yourself and find peace.
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