The burden of proof…

The burden of proof. The reason it’s called the burden of proof is because proof…is a heavy load. It’s a high standard and a heavy load.

Burden…is heavy.

Secrets can be a burden. Some secrets heavier than others. I remember my friend Steve growing up had a secret. His brother had broken the law and he knew. One day he told me because he “just couldn’t keep it in any longer”. It was…a burden.

I remember when I was a senior in high school my best friend Jeff and I wanted to go see Styx in concert in Kansas City one night. But I didn’t have a car and Jeff’s car wouldn’t make it that far. It was a Ford Pinto…that thing should have never been on the road. So, I borrowed my dad’s brand new car and I told my parents Jeff and I would be out late initiating student body government nominees. (Jeff was president of the high school). And off we went to Styx in Kansas City. Mr Roboto tour!

We had a great time but over time the secret ate at me. It became a burden to carry it. I wanted so badly to get it off my chest. But apparently fear of my dad’s belt is stronger than my guilt. I never told him. But I remember the secret.

I read some research by some guys from Stanford and Colombia that carrying a secret is very much like carrying physical weight. It wears on you mentally and physically over time as if you are carrying physical weight.

I carried the secret of my childhood until I was 45 years old. For 33 years I didn’t tell a soul. I also learned to hide my heart problem in most life situations. Secrets. And I’m realizing the burden that was for so many years.

And then I’m wondering about another burden…me. I wonder if people knowing about my chronic pain and the fact that it’s my heart and how that scares them…is a burden. Seems to me it is.

I learned at a young age that I was a burden. My heart issue…they thought I was faking. My trauma, they didn’t want to know about it. I felt like I was a burden…ok…I feel like I am a burden. I realize now that that was the driving factor behind my success, behind why I wanted to be there for others, behind competitiveness. I needed to prove my value to others. I had to make up for the fact that the things I brought with me were a such a large burden.

To “prove” me wrong…is a high bar. A heavy load. It’s so ingrained in me.

The burden of proof is meant to be difficult…nothing worthwhile is easy.

ps…pain is high and burning…a friend of mine and Chief Medical Officer pulled some strings and got me in with a cardiologist tomorrow. Side note…this cardiologist happened to be in the operating room at Mayo as an intern and is now here in Denver.