Posted on September 21, 2019 by Federal Disability Retirement Attorney

Say a person is playing golf, hits the ball badly and yells out loudly, “Fore!” In his mind, however, the individual has the word spelled wrongly — say, as “Four” or “For”, or any number of alternative ways. When first heard, he had thought that it was spelled in the commonplace, conventional way. Does it matter? Doesn’t the fact that homophones exist become an issue of “right” or “wrong” only if the implicit clashes with the explicit? (What a terribly and awkwardly stated question).

Homophones not only “sound” the same, but may also be spelled differently. They are in the “family” of homonyms because they sound alike but have different meanings; similarly, there are words that also sound the same, are spelled the same, but have different meanings, as in: “She rose from her seated position to smell the rose.” Here again, what if the person repeated the sentence but thought that the first “rose” was somehow referring to the flower while the second rose concerned the manner of posture (if such transfer of meanings is even possible) — would it make a difference?

The “implicit” world of understanding encapsulates the privacy of our insular world; the “explicit” brings forth and unveils that previously-unrevealed universe, and tests it against the objective world of contending ideas. It is somewhat akin to pain — that subjective phenomena which may or may not be capable of being ascertained, verified or confirmed by diagnostic testing or reactive muscle spasms.

What constitutes it, and how do we learn of its sufficiency or relevance?

Take the following scenario: A group of boys are gathered together along with Billy, the “town bully”. A discussion of sorts ensues — who is the toughest kid in town? Some of the boys offer that “Dave” from across town is the meanest and toughest — a black belt in Hapkido, a state wrestling champion and a middle line backer for the high school football team. Some others counter that Dave was once beaten up by Joe back in February, and doesn’t that “prove” that Joe is the toughest?

Then Billy suddenly stands up and everyone else becomes quiet. He starts slowly and deliberatively pounding his right fist into the open palm of his left hand, and juts his prominent chin out in an intimidating manner, and says, “Okay! Enough of this talk! How ‘bout me? Which of you weaklings says that I’m not the toughest guy in town?”

There are multiple sounds of gulps and fearful drops of sweat begin to trickle down the backs of each, and one of the other kids — a skinny little weasel with thick, black-rimmed glasses, suddenly shouts, “That’s proof enough for me!” Following was a loud and unequivocal consensus of unanimous agreement.

In such a scenario, two things occurred: One — Billy “proved” that he was the toughest kid in town, and Two — all of the other kids took the lesson to heart that the proof of a physical presence and the threat presented was “sufficient” proof, as well as relevant as all get-go.

Thus are all of the components necessary to establishing verification of a propositional truth established: the town bully’s declarative utterance, backed by the force of a metaphorical persuasion (for one would argue that no overt coerciveness was used, but merely an innocent act of pounding one’s fist into the open palm of one’s other hand, and if asked whether Billy “threatened” anyone into declaring him as the toughest kid in town, he would and could innocently declare that there is “no proof” of any such accusation established or verified), and further reinforced by the scientific consensus of his peers and fellow students.

Proof was offered, considered, and accepted in full by a persuasive methodology of a succinct and effective form.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who are considering filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, the systematic and methodological “proof” which must be gathered and presented to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management in establishing the Federal or Postal employee’s eligibility and entitlement to Federal Disability Retirement benefits must, of course, be somewhat more sophisticated than the rudimentary — but effective — amassing of proof portrayed by Billy the Town Bully.

Of course, some of the characteristics may still be relevant — of what constitutes “effective” proof; of what works as “persuasive” proof; of what is comprised of proof itself. But the difference is that, while proof that leads to an approval from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management should last for the lifetime of the Federal or Postal employee, “proof” for the kids who agreed that Billy was the toughest guy in town lasted only so long as the threat presented kept everyone convinced.

Whether for the exhilaration of the activity or the sheer confrontation of the challenge looming, it is a sport that captures the imagination of the fitness-enthusiast, the romantic and the eccentric loner alike. It is the sport that engages the competitive spirit not against another’s ability or the coordinated capacity of large teams having practiced together, but against the inert heights of peaks and impervious rock faces that show no emotion as to one’s success or failure.

Mountain climbing has many phases and stages, both of skill and type; of a walk along a trail; a hike up an incline; or for the serious contender, the challenge against the fear of height and failure. Is the challenge against one’s own fear? Is the thrill that of attaining that climber’s high where energy is suddenly released and the conquering senses are suddenly embraced by the thrill of nature’s impassive will?

There are mountains to climb, and some of us do it in the physical sense, while the rest of us contend with the metaphorical mountains that need to be climbed each and every day.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, where the medical condition itself is the mountain to climb, it will often become necessary to go on to the “next level” of the climb itself, by preparing, formulating and filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits, to be submitted through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.

For some, mountain climbing is an actual physical activity; for the rest of us, it is a metaphorical application that reflects the strenuous life challenges beyond ordinary encounters of daily living. For Federal and Postal employees who suffer from a medical condition where the medical condition itself prevents the Federal or Postal employee from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, it becomes more than a metaphor — it is, instead, the obstacle that prevents, no less than the peak that abuts before the first step is taken for the mountain climbing enthusiast.

Does a personal pronoun necessarily attach itself to a deed? If an opinion is expressed as a formal, generic pronoun, and not in the first person, nominative case, is it still the declaration of the author? If, following upon the words written or spoken, the individual expressing the viewpoint follows it up with a deed or act, does the one follow from the other? Is there a causal connection between the two? Does it matter who says the utterance, as opposed to the content of the pronouncement?

Take the following hypothetical: say a known liar — one who has been convicted of perjury and has a widespread reputation for spreading falsehoods, gives a speech about the importance of telling the truth, and the content, substance and every which manner of what he says cannot be disputed — do we say we “believe him”, or merely the speech given?

Take the same example, but exchange the individual for a saintly person whom everyone agrees is incapable of lying — but in the course of giving his expressed remarks on the subject at hand, misspeaks. Does the “lying” suddenly attach itself to the individual, and does the misdeed forever mark the reputation of he who speaks with a badge of dishonor, like unwanted barnacles upon the underside of a boat?

The test of sincerity following upon words, is not more words, but an act which validates the declarative utterance spoken. It is precisely because of the chasm which exists between words and deeds, that the necessary connection (that elusive element which Hume so brilliantly batted away in destroying the certainty of causation) which brings the two together must be in the retroactive affirmation of the latter to the former; otherwise, hypocrisy would abound (as it does) and words would remain meaningless (as they are).

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who intend to file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal employee or U.S. Postal worker is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, the added burden of the medical condition itself allows for procrastination to extend the widening chasm between words, intentions and deeds. Life is a daily struggle where the complexities inure to the aggregation of confusion in prioritizing. That which is important, may not seem so today, when the stark realities which impact and impede in the immediacy of time can turn theory into distant conjugations, left within the turmoil of thoughts and silent words unspoken.

Filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through OPM requires an affirmative act following upon an intention growing within an expanse of needs. Thus, of words and deeds — the former merely initiates the latter, but may never attach itself unless the actual steps are taken in the preparation of an effective OPM Disability Retirement application, remaining hidden and obscured by the quietude of thoughts and the hidden screams of pain.

Why is it that changing one’s vernacular accent is considered pretentious? What if people, on a daily basis, came into the office and assumed a different dialect — the Northerner with a sudden affectation of a Southern drawl; a Midwesterner assuming the melody of the Irish; or the New Englander presuming upon a Jamaican tango; and the next day, in random turns, everyone played musical chairs with the spoken word and its vehicle of communication — why would we be critical of such a display of linguistic malleability? The phonetics of pretension remain predictably unacceptable; somehow, we know that a certain “putting on” of an accent is either bad or less than genuine.

Take the hypothetical one step further: Say that the world went mad (this part of it is hardly difficult to fathom) and everyone around went about taking on a different accent, and there was one particularly annoying person (you pick the gender) who everyone thought was being overly “pretentious” by speaking in a melodious gaelic accent. “Oh, he thinks he is so good at it!” “She sounds so fake and insincere!” But let’s take it a step further: Assume that everyone agreed that the person was so terrible that we all demanded that he/she cease the phonetic banality, until it turns out that she is actually a native of Galloway from southern Scotland, and that the alleged pretension was truly genuine. Would the accent still be a “bad” accent? Is there such a thing as a bad but genuine accent, or does the “badness” inure to the pretension of insincerity?

Now, take the Federal or Postal worker who has a medical condition or is injured, and comes into the office or the facility daily, and hides — as best he or she can — the medical condition, but suffers by way of less productivity and inability to fulfill all of the essential elements of the position; is that Federal or Postal employee being “pretentious”? And when the Supervisor or Manager of the Federal Agency or the U.S. Postal Service discovers the medical condition and begins the inevitable campaign of harassment, intimidation and PIP preparations, do the others come to his or her defense, or scurry away like rats on a sinking ship?

Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, of course, have the option of 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. In the end, there is never a “bad accent” when the origin of phonetic uniqueness is genuine and sincere; just as it is never a negative reflection upon a Federal or Postal employee who files for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through OPM when there is a medical condition which prevents the Federal employee or U.S. Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s positional duties.

Perhaps it is a moment of repose, when relaxation allows for an unflattering silhouette or an act with hands which reach for things not publicly accepted; or of an insight into the depths of a soul, better left concealed, congealing unexpectedly before one’s eyes despite best or better attempts to suppress or repress.

We all assume certain aspects of a person’s life, and when they appear not within the slice of images presented to the public eye, we do not take notice because the presumption remains throughout. Thus do bathroom scenes remain irrelevant throughout most of the history of film, and have only made their debut as titillating artistry masked as prurient creativity encroaches in subtle increments upon our sensibilities (with the obvious exception, of course, of Hitchcock’s scene of the curtained shadow).

Somehow, despite our incessant clatter of protestations to the contrary, the privacy of our lives become exposed and elevated to a pedestal of a declarative rumination, like the child-actor who accepts the adoration of public applause in place of the denied love of a parent. The lowest of our essence tends to congregate in bunches of time, place and people; perhaps, as like attracts like, and similarities of venturesome teleologies aggregate for symbiosis of common causes, so the ugliness of humanity seems always to find its way where innocence abounds and the naive output is counterbalanced by the depravity of so many soulless zombies.

So it is in the workplace, where the ugliness of human character tends to reveal itself. But that we wish for privacy, and for the sheer meanness of the human spirit to remain hidden. The skin is an organ which covers, and for that we may be thankful — as the inner organs of man were never meant to be exposed for viewing where beauty is replaced with the stark reality of who we are.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who must continue to go to work despite the deteriorating and progressive presence of a medical condition, such that the medical condition prevents the Federal or Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal positional duties, the persistent exposure to things which should remain hidden, often becomes a constancy of unrelenting corridors of shame.

Just as divorce merely widens the microscopic fissures of that which the child already sensed, and the secrets leading to wars were already well-known by enemies and allies alike, so the facade which allowed for amiability and camaraderie suddenly crumbles, and the ugliness of humanity exposes itself. Why is it that of those things once hidden, they suddenly become public and unconstrained? And in the very midst of medical conditions and human plight which should engender empathy and consolation, the increase in harassment and progressive punishment exponentially facilitates.

For the Federal employee or U.S. Postal worker who finds him or herself in such a situation, filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management becomes not merely the least of options remaining, but the best alternative to a deteriorating circumstance.

And of those things which should have remained hidden?

Like vestiges of timeless reruns from an era veiled by innocence, the reels of fading images defy the reality of our day, and the best course of action is to prepare an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be submitted to OPM so that the escape hatch can invite a gust of fresh air where once the stuffiness of a stale and toxic environment was suffocating the very life out of our soulful existence.

There are murals of inspired souls, touched by a hand guided by forces unknown; of vaulted ceilings and high arches, and mosaics which are crafted, painted and tediously combined; and as one approaches such architectural wonders, the eyes are lifted upwards toward the heavens in such a natural order of elevation that there is no pause for self-consciousness.

Contrast that to the technology of modernity, where huddled masses with sauntering forms and stooped shoulders look down upon the glare of Smartphones, Tablets and the keyboard of laptops; the eyes never wander but within the confined parameters of a rectangular screen, and only in furtive movements of quickened and imperceptible annoyances.

The irony, of course, where the two intersect — the grandeur of architectural brilliance with the future of technological acumen — is when the tourist brings the Smartphone with the self-contained video and camera apparatus in order to gawk at the Medieval Renaissance of antiquity, but never views with the naked eye, but always through the lens for Instagram and Facebook positing. It is, ultimately, of our posture which is most telling, and that which draws the human eye — in a downward trajectory, or with an upward inspiration.

Once, we used to build for eternity and the heavens, whereas of today we huddle in forlorn consternation over glowing screens which dull the mind and blind the eye to the created world around us. And what of other elements in our lives? Do they uplift, or denigrate such that we become downtrodden specimens of another’s playful cruelty? Does the place where we spend the most time draw us as an architect of awe, or diminish the soul by whips and partial tears?

Work — that place and endeavor which occupies the majority of our time — should always lift up, and never demean; and like human relationships of linear poses (unlike the vertical one with gods and angelic superstitions), the combination should always aggregate to a greater quantity than the quality of singularity.

That is why, for Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who discover that the present situation they find themselves in has become untenable because the medical condition prevents the Federal or Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal positional duties, and such a state has engendered resentment, denigration and an opposition to constructive advancement, preparing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application to be submitted to the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, becomes the preferred alternative to continuation in the present state of despair.

Going out on an OPM Disability Retirement for the Federal employee or U.S. Postal worker is never the first choice, and may in fact be the last; but the option is almost always one based upon the survival of the soul, where the architect of awe is no longer present in a world which has seemingly abandoned its teleological relish for life, but where work has come to represent harassment, denigration and demeaning anguish, and where the choices have limited the fragile compartment of the soul and thus the alternative is to suffer silently in a world gone mad and maddeningly unsympathetic to the plight of that traveler whom no one has invited from the coldness of the world.

Seven False Myths about OPM Disability Retirement

1) I have to be totally disabled to get Postal or Federal disability retirement.
False: You are eligible for disability retirement so long as you are unable to perform one or more of the essential elements of your job. Thus, it is a much lower standard of disability.

2) My injury or illness has to be job-related.
False: You can get disability even if your condition is not work related. If your medical condition impacts your ability to perform any of the core elements of your job, you are eligible, regardless of how or where your condition occurred.

3) I have to quit my federal job first to get disability.
False: In most cases, you can apply while continuing to work at your present job, to the extent you are able.

4) I can't get disability if I suffer from a mental or nervous condition.
False: If your condition affects your job performance, you can still qualify. Psychiatric conditions are treated no differently from physical conditions.

5) Disability retirement is approved by DOL Workers Comp.
False: It's the Office of Personnel Management (OPM) the federal agency that administers and approves disability for employees at the US Postal Service or other federal agencies.

6) I can wait for OPM disability retirement for many years after separation.
False: You only have one year from the date of separation from service - otherwise, you lose your right forever.

7) If I get disability retirement, I won't be able to apply for Scheduled Award (SA).
False: You can get a Scheduled Award under the rules of OWCP even after you get approved for OPM disability retirement.