So, as I’ve decided to write more often, today (or yesterday, I suppose) is as good a day as any to begin. I’m not getting into the “why” details, but as a 100% disabled veteran, I’m not currently working. That’s not my ultimate goal, though. I’m actually going back to college in a month. College at 42… this should be fun.
Since I can’t work (key word there… can’t), I attend a program called the Community Reintegration Program. Some of the groups they offer aren’t my cup of tea. Some don’t make sense to me at all. Others are useful to me. One of the groups I attend is called Illness Management and Recovery, or IMR for short. That’s the answer you’ll get if you ask anyone because no one remembers the long version.
With the two individuals who run the group and the general good attendance from the other vets, I have gained much knowledge. I’ve even been able to share what has helped other vets. The majority of the guys in the group are Vietnam-era, so I’m one of the younger fellows. With all of us together, there is a lot of life experience, addiction, sickness, and so forth. I’ll never share anything in detail, but I will share my end of a conversation we had today. One of the team leaders said it was a mic drop moment, but I don’t believe so, lol. I articulated it far better than I tried to re-create it afterwards.
As we spoke further, the words “Life is a Highway” popped into my head, and the mischievous gremlins in my brain were able to turn that into what I wrote below. I don’t remember having ever heard this, but I’m sure that it has been said, so I won’t claim that it’s original.
Imagine your life as a journey on Interstate 95, from the sun-drenched beaches of Florida to the rocky coast of Maine. You get on at one end, and the destination is at the other. On-ramps are new beginnings and opportunities, moments when you get onto the highway of life with fresh hope and direction. Off-ramps are the challenges and detours—life setbacks, mental illness, and random events that nudge you off the main highway onto rough, unfamiliar paths.
Along the route, you encounter construction zones, representing blocks and periods of growth. They slow you down and test your patience but are paths to personal growth. Despite these obstacles, you find yourself back on the interstate, an indicator of resilience and recovery. You reach the end of I-95, from where you can reflect on your journey—the good roads, terrible detours, and construction zones. You’ve weathered the storms of mental health and life issues, coming out stronger and wiser.
So, what do you think? Good analogy? How would you explain it? I actually printed this out and put it next to my bed so I can read it often. Things in life may cause me to leave the highway, but there is always an on-ramp further down the road. It might take some time on the backroads before you run into that on-ramp, but it’s there. It’s always there.
