They say that confession is good for the soul. I believe that saying is true, but my big question is, who are THEY and why are THEY so interested in my soul? Oh well, here goes and I hope THEY are happy.
Several years ago in a fit of despair I stopped doing something that I had loved my whole life. In fact, I stopped doing everything in the world that I loved. Including living. At the ripe old age of 70 I decided to retire from a job that I loved. The company I worked for, for almost 10 years had hired a "young gun" as my supervisor. Here I had worked for almost 20 years at several agencies working with people with disabilities and over 25 years as a police officer working with the elderly and they had hired a guy that wasn't what I would call a people person. For him it was all about feeding them information and then shoving them out the door.
I have always been a people person and took great care to know and truly understand what their needs were and to get to know them on a personal level to gain their trust. That process took a little time to accomplish but it was very successful and I enjoyed the friendships I made as well. Win/win right? Well this guy wanted a cookie cutter approach to everyone. You might say, wow, everyone is different. How the heck does that work? Well, in my mind it didn't work. People were pushed out the door on a conveyer belt. He marked success by the number of people that he shoved out the door while I counted the goals my clients had obtained successfully.
I decided that it was time to get out. It was a spur of the moment decision I made without consulting my wife. (probably not a great idea for those of you taking notes). Meanwhile back at the ranch, my wife told me that she didn't want my world revolving around her and that I needed to find other things to do. I was crushed. For the first time in over 50 years I didn't have to be anywhere or answer to anyone. That lasted about a week before I started to slowly lose any sense of worthiness.
Some personal problems at home that had been festering for a long time finally broke and I probably made some bad decisions in how I dealt with them. And suddenly because of those decisions I was suddenly an outcast from my family. That on top of my retirement was the last straw. I went into a deep well of depression and I was too far gone to even recognize it. I was gone for almost two years before two beautiful friends woke me from the stupor I had been in. They convinced me that I was worthy and hopefully everyone in my life will understand that. Believe it or not, the last two years are faint memories. I learned that miracles aren't finding a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, but perhaps the rainbow itself.