My life turned into a nightmare because of the retirement. I lost everything—money, properties, peace of mind……

My life turned into a nightmare because of the retirement. I lost everything—money, properties, peace of mind…

For most of my life, I worked tirelessly. I climbed the ladder, made sacrifices, and gave everything to build a secure future. Like many, I believed retirement would be the reward—the time when I could finally breathe, enjoy the fruits of my labor, travel, and spend peaceful days with family. But no one prepared me for the harsh reality that followed. Instead of peace, retirement became the beginning of my downfall.

When I retired, I felt a sense of relief. I had a decent pension, some savings, a few rental properties, and investments I thought would carry me comfortably through my later years. But within months, the cracks began to show. My identity, for decades tied to my work, suddenly felt hollow. Without a daily purpose, time dragged. I was restless, lost, and more vulnerable than I had ever been.

Then came the financial blows. One of my properties needed major repairs—a roof collapse followed by plumbing disasters. Insurance barely covered half, and the rest came from my retirement fund. Around the same time, a close relative needed urgent help, and out of goodwill, I lent a significant portion of my savings. It was never repaid.

I turned to some financial “advisors” who pitched too-good-to-be-true investment plans. Desperate to recover what I’d lost, I took the risk. Big mistake. The market dipped, the funds crashed, and the “advisors” disappeared. I watched my savings drain away, helpless.

With dwindling income, I was forced to sell my properties one by one to keep up with basic expenses. The home I planned to grow old in—the one filled with memories, laughter, and dreams—was the last to go. Letting it go felt like surrendering a part of myself.

But the worst wasn’t the money. It was the loneliness, the silence. Friends moved away, passed on, or were too busy with their own lives. My family, though caring, had their own struggles. I didn’t want to burden them, so I kept quiet. Pride kept me from asking for help. The nights were the hardest—sleepless, filled with anxiety and regrets.

I never imagined retirement would leave me more broken than fulfilled. I had always pictured it as a time of rest and joy. No one tells you how quickly things can spiral when the safety nets fail. No one talks about the emotional toll of going from purpose-driven to invisible.

Now, I live with less—but I’m trying to find meaning again. I volunteer when I can, speak with others who feel the same, and slowly, painfully, I’m learning that life doesn’t end at retirement. It simply changes. Though I lost a lot—money, property, peace—I haven’t lost myself completely. And that, I hope, is enough to start over.