OPINIONToday is the first day of the rest of Bertie Ahern's life. How will he cope?, asks Marie Murray
IF A WEEK is a long time in politics, the day must be very long for a politician who retires. How will Bertie Ahern spend his time after years of high-profile pressurised life?
For those like Ahern who are accustomed to the power, privilege, pomp and prestige of important jobs, such change must be overwhelming.
If the top job suddenly comes to an end, it must be difficult: it must be a lonely, personal process of adjustment.
Sudden lifestyle and status change is a psychological event.
It carries significant challenges and involves a change of identity.
If identity is bound up with public persona, then loss of that persona means the loss of who you are.
One day you are important; the next you are not. It is as simple and as sad as that. Presumably, Ahern will be no exception
Those who are brought home from ambassadorial postings - with enormous homes in far-flung countries, staff, drivers and chefs - can find themselves waiting in the rain outside the Department of Foreign Affairs for the 46A bus to bring them home.
They know what sudden change can bring. They know how exalted one was yesterday and how unimportant today.
They know how quickly kow-tow can be replaced by push and shove and how suddenly one's status is returned to that of ordinary citizen, of civil servant.
Of course, politicians who are elected, then rejected, then re-elected also know what it is like to occupy roles of differing importance and none. They learn to live with it.
But when the departure is final, when there will be no more elections and no more importance, it is a process of shedding the old persona to rediscover, reclaim or reinvent oneself.
Re-inventing oneself is a challenge when others have assigned you a role, when you have occupied it, felt its power and when it has received recognition and accord. It is a challenge when it has to be abandoned - and with it lifestyle, advantage, influence and the stability of knowing who and what you are.
The demise of active high-profile political life poses special challenges.
The reason for departure and the manner of departure are crucial: a cloud over either makes it much more difficult to adapt.
Ritual is essential - giving a speech, saying farewell, acknowledging colleagues and providing a rationale for one's life, one's work and one's self - are processes that people leaving public office need.
It is important the occasion is marked by the tributes of colleagues: tributes to one's commitment and acknowledgment of one's achievements. Any dilution of anticipated accolades brings psychological pain.
And there are other challenges. As time goes by, people have to cope with invisibility, of overhearing someone ask, "Wasn't that so and so?"
To be no longer what you once were and to be spoken of in the past tense must be truly difficult.
Who are you if you once were somebody? What is the opposite of somebody? And who on Earth are you if you are no longer parsed in the present tense?
It must be hard to be replaced too quickly by someone whose popularity or achievements outshine you own; whose face replaces yours in the papers; whose words are quoted; whose presence is respected; whose appearance on television is valued; and whose title you once held.
Bertie Ahern will continue to have a driver, security detail, office staff to manage his day and many of the supports of high office. But for many who step down from office, it must be hard to have to relearn looking after themselves, keeping their own diaries, making their own calls, booking their flights, advising themselves, driving themselves.
And even finding their own parking places at the supermarket.
Watching Bertie Ahern depart is a lesson for us all. When you are gone, you're gone.
Celebrity is short. Memories are selective. Fame is fickle.
Nobody is indispensable. The hard work, the good done is often forgotten and "interred".
At the end of the day, who we are depends upon who we come home to, who cares about us when we get there and if we are happy with ourselves.
Marie Murray is a clinical psychologist and director of student counselling services in University College Dublin