Disability Retirement for Federal Government Employees: Unrequited

It is the feeling of that which is not returned; often involving “love”, but it can also encapsulate a sense of appreciation or adulation.  Love itself is a peculiar concept; of the strength of it, whether it must by necessity involve a physical nature; of the relationships involved, and the complications that arise when it is unreturned.  Unrequited love is a state of emptiness; and of anything unrequited — whether of appreciation; of engagement or involvement, leaves a sense of dissatisfaction.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition such that the medical condition no longer allows the Federal or Postal employee to continue in one’s Federal or Postal career, the feeling or sense of being unrequited grows daily.  The greater effort expended to extend one’s career no longer has any corresponding “return”.  It is then time to consider filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits under FERS.

Consult with an attorney who specializes in Federal Disability Retirement benefits, lest the unrequited effort expended results in a termination because of excessive leave or poor performance.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Medical Retirement under FERS & CSRS: What we have to do

In once sense of the phrase, it denotes a duty or obligation; in another, the foundational basis of a practical, pragmatic nature – of that which we do, simply because it needs to be done in order to survive, to maintain a certain standard of living, or because we believe it is the “right” thing to do.  Each individual must decide for him or herself, of course, as to the criteria by which to determine that which we have to do, and the “what” will often be placed on a wide spectrum of moral ends that are meant to justify the means by which to proceed.

What we have to do – it is also a phrase that is said when shaking one’s head, as in the whispering to one’s self in gritting one’s teeth or biting our tongue and engaging in a soliloquy of thoughtful silence, saying, “What we have to do.”

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, despite the medical condition beginning to prevent the Federal or Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of the Federal or Postal position, it is a familiar refrain – of working through the pain, of trying to endure the paralyzing panic attacks or the heightened anxiety and depression that pervades, and to try and hide the medical condition and do what we have to do in order to economically survive – until it reaches that crisis point where the medical condition cannot be controlled, cannot be hidden, and comes bursting out like NFL players running through the tunnel from the locker rooms of one’s mind and body.

Filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, is just one of those other things that can be characterized as what we have to do.  For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who have a medical condition that begins to impede and prevent the Federal or Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, the filing itself of an effective Federal Disability Retirement application is what we have to do, especially if the alternative is to stay at the job or walk away with nothing, which are actually no choices at all.

What we have to do – a familiar refrain for the Federal or Postal employee, and a necessary next step if you suffer from a medical condition that impedes or prevents you from performing one or more of essential elements of your job.  After all, you’ve been doing what you have to do all of your life, and this is just one more instance of it.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Attorney Representation for OPM Disability Claims: The strange story of X

He was always reserved, and became even more so in the last few years.  Never one to first say hello, but always quick with a smile whenever anyone passed by his desk, those in the office kept away from him – not because he was unlikeable, or even because he himself initiated any enmity or scorn, but merely because that was the way things were.

He was a stranger among coworkers where working together brought individuals of different perspectives, outlooks, backgrounds and personalities together to form a union of common objectives. He was older than most of his fellow compatriots, but not too old to stand out as stodgy or unwelcomed. Most others simply knew him because he had been there for as long as they could remember, and some, of a time when he had not yet arrived.

The strange story of X is just that – it is not so strange, and he was just another individual whose anonymity was pronounced by the very likeness to everyone else’s story.  In this world where people work together for years and years, but where neighborliness stops at the clock that shows when office hours end and the compensation to be received will not exceed the ticking of a minute thereafter, lives are lived in close proximity, but never known.

In other universes, in different civilizations, in foreign communities and amalgamations where the human species congregate in tribes, townships and collectives of human detritus, the strange story of X is often not of that stranger described, but of the others who never took the time to invite that stranger into one’s home.  The story always continues, of course – of the sudden disappearance, of rumors abounding, then the dissipation of any notice, until time concealed and the question went away; until the strange story of X became focused upon the next person who everyone passed by as a nobody amongst a universe of somebodies thinking that the strange story of X was unique in some way.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, such that the medical condition begins to impact the Federal or Postal employee’s ability or capacity to complete and fulfill all of the essential elements of the Federal or Postal position, the strange story of X is often a familiar one – except that, instead of the “person” himself, it is the medical condition that everyone, or most everyone, “knows about” but never acknowledges, and treats as if it doesn’t exist.

This is a funny and strange world, where the suffering of others is barely spoken about, and anonymity is preferred over empathy expressed.

Perhaps it is time to “move on”, and to do so, preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be filed with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, is a necessary first step.  For, in the end, the strange story of X is in the very estrangement of human beings from the humanity we have left behind, and fighting for a Federal Disability Retirement benefit may be the best hope of leaving such strangeness behind, where neither the workplace nor the coworkers will query much beyond a day’s absence when the clock ticks five.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Medical Retirement for Federal Employees: Hardened hearts

They are unseen, but exist; and like zombies that wander through the nighttime skies as mere shadows in a one-dimensional universe, the concealment of hardened hearts can only be kept secret for a short while.  Where does the apex begin, and the downward spiral begin?  At what point does one possess a hardened heart, and does it insidiously creep upon one without one’s knowledge, conscious thought or deliberative realization?

We fight against it; we refuse to submit to it; but life happens, disappointments abound and the subtle cravenness begins to slowly, inevitably overtake.

Hardened hearts result from the encounters with life’s misgivings, and the more the misgivings, the harder the heart hardens.  Is it mere cynicism?  Does it emanate and originate from a single encounter, or must there be multiple clashes, butting of heads and piercing of hearts before the innocence of youth transforms into a meanness of spirit?

Hatred is an emotion that festers and eats away; and like flesh-devouring predators that feel nothing about their prey, hardened hearts shrivel into a latency of unfeeling behaviors.  It is a difficult road but a necessary one to take – to resist, to fight against, and to protect the purity of one’s soul.  Hardened hearts are the result of giving up, of losing hope, and of turning one’s back upon a society that has otherwise already given up on an individual.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who feel the onset of that condition known as “hardened hearts”, the symptoms are quite noticeable: of bitterness; of anxiousness in going to work; of the recognition that one’s Federal Agency or the Postal facility does not show any loyalty towards you despite years and decades of dedicated work.

The diagnosis of a hardened heart, if the Federal or Postal employee suffers from a medical condition such that the medical condition prevents the Federal or Postal employee from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, may be to file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management.

In the end, hardened hearts are merely another happenstance of life’s misgivings, evidencing the cruelty of the world in which we live; but there are ways to avoid the final diagnosis of a mortality robbed of joy, and that may be by filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application and “moving on” to try and save that last vestige of an innocent outlook upon life’s sunset of tears.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

Medical Retirement from Federal Employment: The din of distant darkness

There are often foreboding signs which we conveniently ignore.  In retrospect, how often do we hear of the lament of disregard?  “I never thought…”; “I heard the sound, but –“; “There were some indications, but I just assumed…”  Yet, later, we recognize those telltale footprints, and wonder why the creaking floorboards or the muffled murmur did not raise the cautionary instincts repressed by urge of avoidance.  If we were paid a dollar for every instance where…

Like Jim Croce’s remorseful song, if time could be saved in a bottle from every occurrence of wasteful distraction spent trying to figure out things which could otherwise be discerned through careful analysis, the extent of cumulative superciliousness in trying to act offended or incensed by charges of ineptitude might be reasonably contained.  There is so much noise, these days, that a fresh uptick in the volume of an additional din is barely noticeable.  And when then sound of emitted discordance strums a beat in the distance, who but the expectant and anxious parent recognizes the unique cry of a child’s shrill scream of alarm?

And if the sound is merely likened to darkness, where light no longer creeps between the door left ajar, or the seam between the floor and the locked metal gate, then how are we to recognize the silence of strangled light left abandoned in the loneliness of a world uncaring?

The din of distant darkness is precisely that foreboding sense of what may happen, but based upon “something”, as opposed to a baseless muttering of convictions unfounded when we suddenly “lose it” and cannot extricate ourselves from the frenzy of our own lies.  Much of life is about lying – not necessarily to others (although, we do that often enough, as well), but more to ourselves in order to shield our own fragile psyche from the fears we want to avoid.  But even darkness seen in the distant horizon comes creeping towards us, whether we want it to, or not.

How we nestle in the fears of our own making, or struggle against the timeless reverberations of anxieties unstated and never confessed, is the foundation of what makes for successful living, or failed attempts to conceal the cacophony of numbing onslaughts of life.  Yes, the din of distant darkness is yet merely a warning some months, years or decades away; but for Federal and Postal employees who already have a sense of what is coming, and the inevitability of life’s misgivings, the indicators are probably already there:  a medical condition that will not go away; the intersecting impact between the medical condition and the ability to perform the essential elements of the Federal or Postal position; and the question:  How long can I last?

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who need to start considering the process of preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be filed with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, the din of distant darkness should never be avoided; for, in the end, it will come upon you like a thief in the night, stealthily, and without regard, just as your agency and closest coworkers and supervisors will turn the other eye even when the oncoming rush is about to hit you in a sudden fit of uncaring actions.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement Attorney: Uncharacteristic Behavior

It is the clash between an expectation and the actualization of an encounter, which determines one’s perspective of self-fulfillment of a belief, or a resulting dismay from failure of verifying the basis of a paradigm.  Characteristic behavior is thus that type of human encounter which meets with, or exceeds, one’s predetermined paradigm of what one has already believed to be so; to act out of that previously considered belief system, by definition makes it fall outside of the realm of such expectation.

For the Federal employee and the U.S. Postal worker, the bureaucratic complexity of the entire administrative process of preparing, formulating and filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, is normally not a surprise, and meets with or even exceeds, the expectation of an already-formed paradigm of what constitutes the “characteristic behavior” of the system as a whole.

It is the anomaly of the century when efficiency, helpfulness and pleasantries prevail throughout the process of filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits, where one hears with surprise and shock that it was “uncharacteristic”.  Sadly, that tells us something.  While somewhat unfortunate, we must always remember that the road of every bureaucratic process is paved with personalities of every type.  We tend to lump the entirety of an administrative process into a single cup and cauldron of judgment, but the reality is that there are multiple categories, just as there are different types of people throughout the universe, distinctly compartmentalized into:  helpful; friendly; efficient; nasty; backstabber; fair; unfair; loyal; unpredictable; just to name a few.

The process of filing a Federal Disability Retirement application through OPM can be a stressful one, if only because it is based upon an obvious stressor to begin with:  a medical condition which impacts one’s ability to perform one’s Federal or Postal job.  But it is not the bureaucratic process itself which adds or detracts from the inherent complexities of the process, but the behavior — characteristic or not — of those who must help along the way or hinder the necessary transition of the Federal or Postal employee, from one of active Federal or Postal employee to that of disability annuitant.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire

 

OPM Disability Retirement Attorney: Incremental Destruction

It is the slow, destructive force of incrementalism which presents the greater danger in life.  Most people can respond to a full-blown crisis; those are events where the human chemistry of adrenaline flow and reactive thoughtlessness results in heroic acts as told in epic narratives.  But what of the slow and deliberate acts of daily sniping?  How well do we respond, and in civil discourse where physical challenge to such cowardly encounters is no longer acceptable, what does one do?

For the Federal employee and the U.S. Postal worker who must contend daily with supervisors, co-workers, managers, etc., in the deliberative incrementalism of destructive criticism, heightened hostility, and the slow churning of pressure by the drip-drip method of administrative sanctions, actions and reprimands, the cost of remaining in an atmosphere of toxicity is high, indeed.

When the medical condition begins to impact the capacity and ability to perform one or more of the essential elements of one’s positional duties, the Federal agency and the U.S. Postal Service engages in a fairly routine manner of acting — of ostracizing, impeding and obstructing.

One would think that, with all of the laws and public awareness concerning disability discrimination, that society — and especially the Federal sector — would be sensitive in the treatment of Federal and Postal employees who suffer from a medical condition; but, alas, civilization rarely progresses in response to genteel laws reflecting intellectual advancement; rather, they remain within the constraints of the origin of one’s species (hint:  the reference is to the Darwinian paradigm of evolutionary determinism).

Filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal worker is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, is often the best choice remaining for Federal or Postal workers who must contend with the incrementalism of sure destruction.  For, in the end, one must always reflect upon the priority of values — of health, continuation in a toxic environment, and whether it is worth it in the end.

It may be years before the adverse effects surface, or mere months; but that is the legend of the age-old torture methods which are most effective; the ones who administer the pain have all the time in the world; it is the victim who must live with the consequences.

Sincerely,

Robert R. McGill, Esquire