As I grow older I seem to spend more and more time looking back over my life. When I think about the decisions that I’ve made and the paths that I’ve chosen I find that I often didn’t really feel that I was in control at all. Something always seemed to affect what I wanted and then what I was able to accomplish. I know I kind of sensed that there was something that was holding me back but I could never identify what it was and so I just slogged on.
I could have been a great high school athlete but I could hardly make it through gym class so there was no way I was going to be able handle football two-a-days and that meant I was never there to lead the Bulldogs to a championship. When I was in the Army in basic training I would flop down on my bunk when we came back in from marching less than a mile–so much for my dreams of joining the Army Special Forces (I know that I could have made a difference for America in a dangerous world if I had been there to protect the nation). After I graduated from college and started my first real job my boss gave me a special assignment because he wanted to see what I could do. He said I was going to be his “golden-haired boy’ but I soon lost interest in the project and turned in work that his ten year old could have done and there went that business career (Mr. Clark’s “golden-haired boy” has spent most of his career pushing a mail cart).
Do you see a pattern here? I sure do. I could have been an all-star, I should have been an all-star. Ask yourself how difficult it must be for me to sit there all alone in front of my flat screen every Sunday afternoon watching football, eating Cheetos and knowing that it should be me scoring those touchdowns. Ask yourself how painful it must be for me to have a miserable, go nowhere job when I know I should be some firm’s CEO. I could have been somebody. I could have, I should have. Don’t think that this hasn’t tormented me my whole life. What I have not done drives me crazy.
It’s pretty hard to live with failure but then watching a game between San Francisco and Green Bay something happened. It had nothing to do with the game on the field, it was a commercial, a commercial that has changed my life. I found out that I’m not a failure, it’s not my fault that I’ve never accomplished anything. Turns out it’s low-T, I have low-T. What a relief. It’s not me, it’s low-T.
Now that I’ve found out what my problem has been I’ll be using the product I saw on TV (the guy in the commercial riding around in a hot ‘66 Mustang convertible seems to be really confident plus he has a cute young girlfriend). Nice car, nice girl friend, nice life.
I’m on my way. Things are going to change and change fast. I just left a message for the coach of the Browns telling him that I’ll be stopping by. After my tryout I want to see if I can find a ‘67 or ‘68 Mustang (maybe a red or dark green fastback) and then I think I may even sign up with eHarmony so I’ll have someone to ride around with me in my new car. Things are looking up. My life is turning around. Low-T. Who knew?
Ask your doctor.