Leaving My Career

For the 15 years prior to diagnosis I'd been a family court counselor for the county in which we lived. My job entailed mediating and arbitrating the kid related disputes attendant to unfriendly divorces . I continued to work for the four years following my diagnosis despite some vexing physical problems. I had, for example, about a 50% likelihood of striking the letter I was aiming for on my keyboard. Fortunately, I'd never been expected to do actual work, but I had been expected to generate a good amount of paper. I would gather reams of information through interviews and legal snooping and then attempt to make sense of parents conflicting renditions of reality. At the conclusion of the process I was expected to render an "expert opinion" for the family court. It was the cognitive stuff, the complex mental machinations required to the formulate that expert opinion, that made me question the wisdom of remaining at my post.

Family Court today is the legal arena in which the unfriendliest of the unfriendly legal disputes are fought. It may also be the most unpredictable part of the legal system. Family Court tends to ensnare more "regular" law abiding people than any other part of the system. People who's only previous contact with the courthouse may have been answering a traffic ticket or securing their marriage licence. They come, like lambs to the slaughter, naively believing there are predictable rules in play, that the judgements imposed on them will be thoughtfully reasoned. People who would never think of suing a neighbor find themselves in knock down, life or death legal struggles over the most precious of their possessions, their children. The circuit court judges are charged with the responsibility for hearing evidence and deciding these cases. This model works reasonably well in other areas of the law but it wasn't designed for the sorts of disputes that arrive in family court. Judges, after all, were lawyers before ascending to the bench and most have little training in child development, abnormal psychology or family dynamics. Most recognize this and rely heavily on persons like myself to advise them. In actual practice the judge conducted an illusory courtroom proceeding and we decided the disputes. In my many years at Family Court I can only recall a couple of instances where the judge, after hearing the case, decided something different from what I had recommended before the proceedings. And, I should add, when they did so they were generally wrong.

These family dramas were often heartbreaking to watch. I was a parent myself and I could easily understand the fears parents brought to this experience. I took my responsibilities with the seriousness they warranted and I believe I was well thought of at the domestic front. In truth, however, deciding such emotionally charged disputes is a very subjective undertaking. There isn't a lot of hard science upon which to base such decisions, and it's very difficult get an accurate picture when both parties are intent on idealizing their circumstances and vilifying the others. After weeks of pains taking investigation, I was often left with the belief that I'd know more about all concerned if I could be a fly on their kitchen wall for fifteen minutes.

I began to feel less confident in my own judgement and, at times, flat out befuddled by the complexity of the task. My memory, never my strong suit, began to fail me in troubling ways. An overwhelming fatigue, bordering on narcalepsy would sometimes seize me. I was having trouble staying awake in even the most highly emotional interviews. I took to palming a sewing needle in my hand so that I could prick myself should I began to nod off. I was full of holes and often leaking essential bodily fluids. It became necessary to continually invent new compensatory strategies in an effort to keep up with my work load. Over time it became clear that I could hang on with an ever diminishing competence ( and an ever diminishing sense of self worth) or leave. Though always somewhat ambivalent about the work, I found leaving difficult. I'd been at this work for a very long time and, in many ways , it had become who I was.

The astute reader might appropriately wonder , doesn't the ADA (Americans with Disabilities) legislation oblige this poor sap's employer to make some kind of accommodation that would have allowed him to remain among the gainfully employed. Yes savvy reader it does, but such required accommodation works much better should you have a limb lopped off by a chainsaw than it does for the subtle vagueness of neurological disorder. Say what you will about public employment, but if misfortune befalls you it's a damn site better place to be than the vaunted "private sector". My benevolent employer, the State, assuaged the worst of my fears when they sanctioned my early retirement. My family would not be relocating under the viaduct after all.

When I left I was feted in grand style by my colleagues, by court personnel, and by the community of professionals with whom I'd long been associated. There was food, music, skits, testimonials, and gifts. A truly gracious and humbling sendoff. Had you been in attendance you would have concluded that my departure was viewed as a lamentable loss. And, at the risk of sounding a bit grandiose, I think it was. I tell you this because it's a period of my life that I am proud of. A checkered past yes, but not a life without it's redeeming moments.

The reader may wonder whether the author sees any positive aspects to his change in life circumstance. Oddly enough I think there are some positives. A significant plus has been that I was able to retire early. I cannot overstate my pleasure in waking one day with "nothin' much to do." Oh sure, I probably cast about for an hour or two wondering what I might do with the rest of my life, but since that morning five years ago, I don't recall such uncertainty revisiting. It's true that I had considerably less capacity than I'd once had to exploit my freedom, but I was by no means incapacitated. Exile from the responsibilities of the work- a- day world seemed to free large tracks of mental real estate for idle musing. Nature, as we know, abhors a vacuum.