What it takes to keep going

I caught up with some friends this morning before heading out to run errands. Always good to hear what they’ve got going on. Gets me out of my head and out of the funk I’ve been slipping into, lately.

I’m not sure if it’s the crazy schedule I’ve been on, my lack of sleep, or this wild full moon that’s the closest to the earth of any full moon all year, but Junior Seau’s passing has been very much in my mind. I do believe that the moon affects our moods – it pulls the tides, for heavensake, and it affects water… and we are literally 70% water, ourselves, so how could we not be affected. Police and fire departments, I hear, staff up more at full moons. So, if that’s the case, how could the full moon not make me more susceptible to news like that? It’s strange, because I’ve never followed him much when he was playing. I knew who he was, and I knew that everyone spoke of him with respect and awe.

But now that he’s gone, I can’t help being affected.

I took a nap this afternoon, after the errands were run. I slept 2-3 hours or so, and I woke up feeling pretty refreshed, but still a little down. Maybe it was actually seeing those friends earlier today — they have lots going on in their lives, some things better than others, and some of them are in the midst of some outright drama.

I, on the other hand, have what amounts to a pretty stable life. I’m not complaining at all — it beats the alternative, the crap I had to deal with later. But now I’m at the point where it feels like my biggest dream is to keep to an even keel… like my greatest ambition is to be awash in the mundane…. to just keep going, to keep my blood pressure and blood sugar and moods within a modulated range… to avoid the extreme highs and lows, and produce predictable results each and every day. I won a service award at work last week — each quarter, someone is nominated for their exemplary service, and I actually won. Amazing. That was a shocker – came completely out of the blue. And while it’s a huge honor to be picked out from 800 people and awarded for your contribution, and I am so grateful that my contribution has been recognized… still there’s a part of me that cringes at the award for being stable and steady and predictable.

I’m not being ungrateful — because I am so thankful and honored that I was so recognized. I’m just being honest. There’s a part of me that cringes at the thought of being all those things that I just got awarded for.

Because it doesn’t feel like me. Not entirely. It feels like part of me, but the other part — that loves to explore and trailblaze and break new ground without thought of the risk or consequence — is totally left in the dust. Or so it feels.

And that’s strange. Because that’s the part of me that’s the most fun, that’s the most involved in my life, that’s the most daring and bold and, well, me. But that “me” doesn’t seem to be around that much anymore, like the passing of time and the consequences of my injuries and mistakes and mishaps, have wrung it out of me… or just made that part of me redundant, if not a little dangerous — a thing to be avoided.

Which brings me back to that point, yet again, where I am contemplating how TBI changes you, and how those changes can turn you into someone you don’t recognize. TBI has made that side of me so unpredictable at times — and that side of me, when it’s unchecked, makes my TBI after-effects so intrusive and disruptive — that I feel like I’ve lost a huge part of me that used to be front and center.

What ever happened to the person who used to be oblivious to what others thing? What happened to the person who used to be willing to just do what needed to be done, without complaining and making a stink? What happened to the person who used to push and push and push and go and go and go, and really soak up all the excitement? What happened to the person who used to live large and untamed? Where the hell did they go?

It’s times like these, when I am so fatigued and so fried that I really feel that loss so keenly. I try to talk to my neuropsych about it, but they don’t seem to get it — I don’t feel like ME. And the one way I’ve found to start feeling like ME again, is to push myself past the point of fatigue and back myself into an overstressed corner where I’m half out of my mind with weariness and adrenaline. That’s the one time I actually feel like I’m “on” – and the iron is, I’m really not. I just feel like I am. And that feeling is something I just can’t help wanting. And chasing. And needing.

When do I get to feel like ME, in ways that don’t endanger my job, my family, my health, my well-being? When?

It’s just such BS. And that thing about feeling like I’ve moved to a different country — that philosophical approach that helps me when I’m all abstract and what-not — it only goes so far. Ultimately, I haven’t moved to another country. I’ve been relocated. And lately I feel like I’m living in a refugee camp, still wishing for a home that is cut off from me.

Exile. That’s what this is. Pure and simple, exile. And the country I left behind, well, it ain’t coming back. And they’re not going to let me back in.

I’m in exile. It finally is sinking in with me. I’m cast out from the world I once thought I lived in (that’s actually debatable, anyway, since who the hell knew what world I thought I lived in?), and there’s no turning back. I’m bothered by it. Set off-kilter by the knowledge. I’m put off. Upset. And grieving. Mourning the loss of what once was, and the loss of the dreams that may never come true. Even if my dreams DO come true (and they seem farther away each day), I will need to achieve them in completely different ways than I used to. And it may not even feel like I achieved them, rather a reconstructed individual comprised of a bunch of compensatory techniques and stop-gap measures.

So long as I achieve them, right? Maybe.

Bad dreams…

Except it was much darker in my dream...

I had a lousy dream the other night. I’ve been having a number of unsettling dreams lately. On the one hand, it bothers me, because I’ve been doing this new breathing practice, and I was hoping it would help me rest better. On the other hand, it probably means I’m doing better, because I’m not too exhausted to dream. And when I have these dreams, I get to find out what’s bugging me, and see if I can do something about it.

I dreamed the other night that I was going with some friends to Europe. I was really excited – we all were – and we got so caught up in packing and getting ready, that we got to the airport with just a little extra time to check in. (I have had this same kind of dream a number of times, actually — planning to fly out, and barely making the plane). Anyway, when we had checked our bags, I realized that I had forgotten my passport. It was back at my apartment. I looked at the clock and thought I might be able to make it home and back in time, but I had to keep recalculating the time, I couldn’t get clear, and by the time I figured out how long it would take me to get back home, get my passport, and come back to the airport, it looked like the plane would be long gone. I told the others to go on without me, but they wanted to stay with me. They didn’t want to leave me. If they did that, we were all going to lose our money on the tickets, and it was very upsetting for me.

The rest of the group didn’t seem bothered by the idea of losing their money, but I was distraught. I couldn’t believe my absent-mindedness had cost them this. I spent a lot of time at the airport, pacing up and down, berating myself for my stupidity, trying to figure out if I could make it back home and back to the airport in time… as the clock kept ticking away…

I’ve had similar dreams, in the past several months, where I was late to go to the airport, and I forgot my passport. It seems to coincide with my fatigue and forgetfulness, where I am working overtime trying to keep up at my day job, and all the while feeling like I’m falling farther and farther behind…

In these dreams, the airport is always small and the equipment is old, like it’s from the 1950′s. The main halls are cavernous but the check-in counters are low. Metal. There’s a lot of metal. And shadow. The scenes are dark and gray and shadowy, and the people I interact with are courteous, but they all seem to be speaking with thick accents I cannot completely understand. They want to help me, but they can’t. And I am stuck in my head, with all the jumbled up thoughts rattling around in them, making me feel like I’m insane… trying like crazy, trying to get the thoughts organized in some useful way.

But I can’t. I’m stuck. My head won’t work. I’m stuck. And I can’t get out.

One dream I had, I was actually able to go back home and get my passport and then I made it back to the airport in a huge rush and just barely was able to get on the plane. I was able to finish my trip, but when I got to the country I was visiting — an Eastern European country that had a lot of mountains — I had no idea where I was, nothing looked familiar or meaningful to me. I got lost, and I can’t recall getting un-lost in my dream. That was pretty nerve-wracking, too.

This is what it’s been feeling like for me, lately. I know I’m doing really well on the surface, but under the surface, there is this constant undercurrent of nervousness, this borderline confusion that is always threatening to get the upper hand. I have to fight it back with all my might, keeping my composure and holding it together for my own sake and everyone else around me. It’s exhausting. And I just want to run away. Disappear. Fade into the distance and not come out ever again. I want to just be done with the confusing crap, the disorienting crap, the perpetual guesswork, feeling like I’m getting lucky, time and time again, because I have no idea — ever — if I’m 100% right or maybe I’m wrong.

I get sick and tired of feeling like it’s all a gamble, all the time, and it’s just one big game that I may or may not win. I get tired of gambits, of pushing the envelope, of taking it to the next level. I want to find a simple job that I can do to completion — get something tangible done every day. Mow a yard. Or cut some hair. Or paint a house. Or wash a car. I long for work that has a beginning, a middle, and an end, and which lets me know if and when I have completed it.

But of course, then it would be nothing like my life. It would be an easy way for me to interact with the world around me, without really dealing with the truth of the matter — that there is tremendous uncertainty in all aspects of life, and that the “work” is never really “done”.

If I let myself fall into thinking that “done” is ever possible, then my bad dreams could become a bad reality.

Enough of this. It’s time for bed.

whats the difference between a concussion and actual brain damage?

Why you should wear a helmet!

This question was asked recently in a search engine, and the person who asked it ended up here on this blog. A lot of people have been searching for concussion information, some worried about brain damage…. and worried about becoming stupid as a result of their concussion.

Concussion, while technically a brain injury, can vary in its severity, as well as the outcome. You just can’t say, from one person to the next, whether or not a person sustains lasting and significant brain damage as a result of a concussion. Some people heal relatively quickly and show no signs of injury after the fact. Others heal more slowly and experience some changes, but get back to their lives without huge impact. Still others struggle for a long time after their injury and have considerable difficulties well into their future.

It’s very individual, and it’s also very unpredictable. That’s what makes concussion and brain injury so frustrating — and interesting at the same time.

The thing is, you have to factor in neuroplasticity — the ability of the brain to shift and change and “remap” itself. Contrary to what we’ve been told for many, many years, the brain actually does change, and damage can be overcome. There are numerous stories about people who overcome serious neurological problems to live incredible lives. The book The Brain that Changes Itself (click here to buy it) is a great example of how the fact of neuroplasticity can trump the impact of neurological problems — some of them acquired.

See, here’s the thing for me — even in the face of concussion, even in the face of brain damage, the fact of the matter is that you can overcome a huge amount of difficulty by proper management of outcomes. Over at The Concussion Blog, they talk about that a lot — the problem isn’t concussion (it happens), the problem is managing it when it happens. It’s the same with any brain injury, I think. Brain injuries happen. TBI happens. Sh*t happens. We often have no control whatever over that.

What we DO have control over, is how we respond to it. And when we respond with educating ourselves and coming up with smart and common-sense responses to the issues, rather than running in circles, or running in fear, we improve our chances of a positive outcome dramatically.

Think about it, folks — concussions and traumatic brain injuries have been happening since the beginning of time. And yes, we’re still here. We’re still pluggin’ right along. We don’t have to curl up in a ball and give up. We don’t have to say, “Oh, I’m brain damaged – that’s it, then. I’ll just have to give up on ever having a normal life.” … or “Oh, you’ve had a TBI, and that’s it – you’re f’ed up and you’ll never change.”  Both of these statements are based on fear and ignorance, and a real lack of knowledge about what the human spirit is capable of doing.

The human spirit is capable of so much, and so long as we have that — and an earnest desire to improve and work towards something positive — we still have hope.

Ultimately, the difference between concussion and brain damage might not matter so terribly much. Of course, severity plays a role. But attitude has a lot to do with it, too. Both of them (regardless of severity) can be sidelining, if you decide that they mean you’ve got problems that will never go away, and the challenges are more than you can take. If you decide that all hope is lost, and it’s pointless to pursue any sort of recovery, that you need to just accept your “new self” as you are and not reach for something bigger and better, and you refuse to adopt different ways of reaching the goals that matter so much to you, then ultimately there probably isn’t that much difference between concussion and brain damage. The effects can be similar, if not the same. A lot of it depends on how you approach it.

Now, I’m not saying that concussion and brain injury are laughing matters, or you can just shine them on and pretend they never happened. Brain injury introduces permanent structural changes to your brain… and concussion can, too. The thing is, the brain is an awfully big place with a whole lot of potential for change. And if we just give up, we never give ourselves (and our loved ones) the opportunity to learn and grow and adapt and have all the life that is possible for us and them.

Brain injury changes a lot. Concussion can change a lot, too (see The Biography of a Teenage Concussion for more discussion of that – it’s a new blog I just discovered recently). But if we stay flexible and focused, we can do a tremendous amount to overcome whatever new challenges stand in our way.

whats the difference between a concussion and actual brain damage? Sometimes, it’s all about the attitude.

There will always be walls… and reasons… and more

What's stopping you?

“My name is Daniel Ilabaca. I used to have nightmares. I used to be angry. I used to try to run through walls. I used to battle with my obstacles. I used to try to fight with my fears. It used to make me tired. But I found a better way. I knew there would always be another wall and another place to fall. I learned to use my obstacles. I learned to go over them. And around them. Now I am free of my fears. Now I am awake. Now I am happy. My name is Daniel Ilabaca. And I live what I dream.”

Just got done watching this: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=6549235439965926929#

You should watch it, too. Don’t try it at home (unless you’ve been training like a beast for a very long time), but watch it.

I’m a little sore today. Changed up my workouts. Pushing myself harder, doing the kinds of movements that actually have something to do with my life.

It’s more than about getting in decent physical condition, losing the winter weight, getting rid of the extra pounds. It’s about stamina. Strength. Being able to go higher and do more and not getting worn out in the process.

I’ve noticed that I do much better, overall, when I am in good physical condition. TBI can screw up your metabolic system — how your body creates and manages energy. It can also make you tired more quickly, and tiredness can lead to agitation as well as a host of cognitive and behavioral issues. I find that when I’m tired, I get angry quicker, I do stupid things more, I say things I don’t mean to say. Things fall apart more, and I react more strongly to them.

Things rapidly fall out of perspective, when I am tired.

So, I’m working on my stamina, which really depends on my strength. Physical strength. The ability to sustain physical activity without running out of steam. If I have more physical strength — and flexibility — I have more reserves to draw from. I can do the simple things for longer, without getting thrashed. And that means I can postpone the meltdown — or avoid it entirely — better than when I am out of shape and do not have the energy and strength to go on.

Make no mistake — brain injury, even mild, does a number on you. And the mild stuff is even more pernicious, because it’s not obvious, but it takes an internal toll that over the long term can be VERY difficult to navigate and negotiate.

So, if I build up my strength and flexibility — take good care of my body overall — it gives me the ability to do things more easily in my everyday life. And I feel better about myself, being in decent condition. Able to lift myself up. Better able to support myself, literally as well as figuratively. And balance. It lets me balance.

Oh yes — BALANCE — that’s gotten a whole hell of a lot better. I used to have to hold onto the handle of the oven in the kitchen, when I did my leg lifts. Now I can stand and balance without needing to hold on. And I can even stand on one leg, arms outstretched, and do my leg lifts — front, back, and side — and not fall over.

This is big. Because balance has been such a challenge for me over the years, and few things set me off more than being off balance. It’s exhausting. But with more strength, more core strength, especially, I can balance and I have more of a foundation to rely on, so even when I am having trouble with my ears, my legs and core can compensate for it. And I don’t need to fall over.

See, here’s the thing – no matter what, there will always be walls. There will always be obstacles. There will always be something getting in the way. Whether it’s TBI or mTBI or concussion or constant pain or vertigo or tactile defensiveness or headaches or mental fogginess… there will always be something that gets in the way. But I don’t have to let that stop me.

Watch parkour on YouTube for a few hours, and then tell me the usual obstacles need to always get in the way. The point of watching this is NOT to go out and do it. I don’t have anywhere near the physical strength to pull this stuff off, and I really can’t take the chance of more concussions, from jumping from high places and climbing up walls. The point of watching this IS to see how others negotiate obstacles in their own individual ways and truly defy common “wisdom” saying that such things are not possible.

It is possible, and with the proper training and dedication and mindset, it IS possible. They even make it look easy.

In much the same sense, I see no reason why those of us who battle these complications of concussion and TBI shouldn’t find our own way of overcoming the obstacles that get in our way. The obstacles could be as mundane as going to the grocery store, or as overwhelming as taking on a new job or a new career, or navigating the hazardous waters of human relationship.

With the proper training, consistent discipline and practice, and true commitment to living the best life possible, who knows what else could happen in your own life? I’m still working on figuring out what else can happen in my own.

Care to join in?

Most of us live too small

Facing up to it

In the midst of all the everyday chores… in the midst of trying to keep myself on track, in the midst of a seemingly endless stream of little annoyances and oversights (a check to one of my creditors was returned to me, because I forgot – of all things – to write out the amount on the line, and I just wrote in the number amount)… I often wonder how things might be, if I weren’t constantly waylaid by these stupid little things.

The thing about the stupid little things is, the sheer number of them make me think that I can’t handle the bigger things. If I have trouble handling something as simple as writing out a check (I’ve never had that problem before, that I can remember), what does that mean for my overall competence?

All the little things start to look that much bigger. And the really big things start to look absolutely overwhelming. Stuff that people do every day, as a matter of course — get up and go to work, participate in the world, and just live their lives — starts to look enormous and intimidating, and here I am — little ole me, who can’t even write out a check properly — what good am I?

But thinking about this, it just doesn’t sit right with me. One oversight shouldn’t completely wreck me. One stupid blip on my radar shouldn’t define my whole day, my whole week, my whole life. And if I let this one thing stop me, if I let all the hundreds of other little things stop me, then what kind of life is that?

Seriously.  I do this all the time, unfortunately. And so do lots of people I know. They think that because they don’t know how to do something now, they’ll never learn. Or they think that if something doesn’t come immediately easily to them, they’ll never get it, or they’ll never be able to do it and enjoy it. They think that they’re too damaged, too wounded, too impaired, too ugly, too short, too stupid, too ignorant, too inexperienced, too young, too old, too injured, too inexperienced, too _[insert reason here]_.

Sometimes they’re making excuses to get themselves off the hook, so they don’t have to extend themselves. Other times, they’re genuinely skeptical of their own abilities and potential. They think that their past determines their future, and that if they don’t know everything they need to know by now, they never will. And all that remains for them to do, is make themselves as comfortable as possible while they wait to get old and die.

Sad. And completely unnecessary. Because life holds a LOT more for us, than just that. And we’ll never know what else is out there, what else is possible, until we get up and go out and find out what else is waiting.

Okay, so there are complications. Sustaining multiple mild traumatic brain injuries hasn’t done much for my ability to deal with fatigue or uncertainty. It tweaks my anxiety and makes me VERY agitated and anxious over the littlest things. It makes my hearing acutely painful at times, as well as my eyesight and sense of touch. And the balance problems don’t help, either.

But you know what? That’s not all there is to me. There’s a whole lot more to my life, and — what the hell — I can always work around the issues I have. Like make sure I get enough sleep, or at least don’t push myself to do stupid things when I’m over-tired. Like wear sunglasses and watch my moods. Like take time-outs, if I need to.

Most of all, what I need to do is just keep going. Not let my”issues” become the defining elements of my life. I need to get enough of a structure to my life to handle all these little logistics things, that I can focus on the big picture — the direction I’m going with my life, what I’m creating with my life. What I’m meant to DO. Not what I’m meant to endure.

What if there were more to life, than “coming to terms with my limitations” and “accepting the new me” that’s a poor imitation of what I used to be? And what if the monsters that are keeping me from doing what I love to do were not nearly as horrible as my mind makes them out to be?

What if nobody noticed that I totally screwed things up and said things that were lame and strange? Even if they did notice, what if nobody CARED? What if  the rest of the world were so self-absorbed and caught up in their own stuff, that they never noticed the “horrible” things I imagine I’ve done and said?

I know I’m not alone in my conviction that there is something wrong with me. Most of us feel that way, to some extent. And I know I’m not the only one who has let their life be too small, because of what’s happened before, and what I think has become of me.

But if I live right and use my head properly, the world will have one less person living too small.

Building my cognitive-behavioral exoskeleton

MTBI can do a lot of damage, in terms of shredding your existing skills and long-accustomed habits. It can really undermine your thinking and judgment, so that you never even realize you need to do things differently than you did before. And it requires that you force your brain (and sometimes body) to push harder and harder, even when every indication around (and inside) you is saying, “Let up… let up…”

This can be very confounding. I encounter — all the time — people who are keen on “taking it easy” and doing things “with ease and grace”. They think this is a sign of superior evolution. They think this is a sign of superior character, as though it means they are more “plugged in with the Universe”. They don’t want to have to expend the effort to get things done. They want Spirit/YHWH/God/Creator to do it for them. They don’t want to take a chance and extend themselves, because they are convinced that a Higher Power is more capable than they, and they believe they should just “get out of the way” and let that Higher Power take charge of their lives.

That may be fine for them, but that mindset drives me nuts. First of all, it absolves them of any responsibility for their actions. If things mess up, they can say it was “God’s will” or part of a “higher plan”. If things get really messed up, they can say they just need to be more “in tune with Spirit”.  I have a bunch of friends who are convinced that they are “channels” for Divine Inspiration, and that’s how they should live… just floating along on a tide of holy impulse. And their lives are a shambles. Objectively speaking, they are constantly marinating in a brine of their individual dramas and traumas. It’s just one thing after another, and all the while, they keep expecting Spirit/YHWH/God/Creator to fix all the messes they’ve helped create.

It’s very frustrating to watch this willful disregard of basic cause and effect, but I suppose everybody’s got their stuff.

Now, it’s one thing, if these people (some of whom are very dear to me) are content to live their lives that way, but when they expect me to do the same — and they judge me as being less “evolved” if I do things differently — it’s a little too much to take, sometimes. I don’t do well with living my life from a distance. I don’t do well with telling myself that I’m just floating along on the divine breeze, waiting for some wonderful opportunity to arise to save me from my own creations. I need to be involved in my own life. I need to be invested. I need to put some effort into my life. I need the exertion. It’s good for my spirit. It’s good for my morale. And it bolsters my self-esteem, as well.

Anyway, even if I wanted to just float along, I couldn’t. I’d sink like a rock. I’m not being hard on myself — this is my observation from years of experience. I can’t just ramble about, taking things as they come. I need structure and discipline to keep on track, to keep out of trouble, to keep my head on straight. I can’t just be open to inspiration and follow whatever impulse comes to mind. My mind is full of countless impulses, every hour of every day, and if I followed each and every one, I’d be so far out in left field, I’d never find my way back. I have had sufficient damage done to the fragile connections in my cerebral matter, that the routes that neural information takes have been permanently re-routed into the darkest woods and jungles of my brain. All those injuries over the years didn’t just wash out a few bridges — they blew them up. And they slashed and burned the jungle all around, and dug huge trenches across the neural byways I “should” be able to access.

As my diagnostic neuropsych says, “I am not neurologically intact.”

So that kind of disqualifies me for just winging it in my life. I tried for years to “go with the flow”, and I ended up flit-flitting about like a dried oak leaf on the wild October wind. I got nowhere. I can’t live like that, and I know it for sure, now that I’m intentionally trying to get myself in some kind of order. My brain is different. It has been formed differently than others. It has been formed differently than it was supposed to.

I can’t change that. But I can change how I do things. I can change how I think about things. I can change by facing up to basic facts. As in:

• My thinking process is not a fluid one, anymore. In fact, I’m not sure it ever was — for real, that is. I’ve consistently found that when I’ve been the most certain about things, was the time when I needed most to double-check.

• If I don’t extend myself to get where I’m going, I can end up sidelining myself with one minor failure after another. One by one, the screw-ups add up, and I end up just giving up, out of exhaustion and/or ex-/implosion… and I can end up even farther behind than when I started.

• It’s like nothing internal is working the way it’s supposed to, and the standard-issue ways of thinking and doing just don’t seem to hold up.

• My brain is different from other folks. It just is. It doesn’t have to be a BAD thing. It just is.

On bad days, it’s pretty easy for me to get down on myself. I feel broken and damaged and useless, some days — usually when I’m overtired and haven’t been taking care of myself. But on good days, I can see past all that wretchedness and just get on with it.

Part of my getting on with it is thinking about how we MTBI survivors can compensate for our difficulties… how we create and use tools to get ourselves back on track — and stay there. There are lots of people who have this kind of injury, and some of them/us figure out what tools work best for us, and we make a point of using them. These exterior tools act as supports (or substitutes) for our weakened internal systems. We use planners and notebooks and stickie notes. We use self-assessment forms and how-to books and motivational materials. We use prayer and reflection ane meditation and journaling. We use exercise and brain games. We use crossword puzzles and little daily challenges we come up with by ourselves.

Some of us — and I’m one such person — use our lives as our rehab. Not all of us can afford rehab (in terms of time or money), and not all of us can even get access to it (seeing as our injuries tend to be subtle and the folks who actually know what to do about them are few and far between). But we have one thing we can use to learn and live and learn some more — life. The school of hard knocks.

I use everything I encounter to further my recovery. I have to. I don’t want to be homeless. I don’t want to be stuck in underemployment. I don’t want to fade away to nothing. And that’s what could easily happen, if I let up. My friends who are into “ease and grace” don’t get this. But then, they’re embroiled in their own dramas, so they don’t really see what’s going on with me. Even my therapist encourages me to “take it easy” a lot more than I’m comfortable doing. (They’ve only known me for about seven months, so they don’t have a full appreciation of all the crap I have to deal with, so I’ll cut them a break.)

It stands to reason that others can’t tell what difficulties I have. After all, I’ve made it my personal mission to not let my injuries A) show to others, B) impact my ability to function in the present, and C) hold me back from my dreams. I may be unrealistic, and I may be just dreaming, but I’m going to hold to that, no matter what. I can’t let this stop me. None of it – the series of falls, the car accidents, the sports concussions, the attack… None of it is going to stop me, if I have anything to say about it. I just have to keep at it, till I find a way to work through/past/around my issues.

And to do that, I use tools. I keep notes. I write in my journal. I blog. I have even been able to read with comprehension for extended periods, lately, which was beyond my reach for a number of years. I keep lists of things I need to do. I come up with ways of jogging my memory. I play games that improve my thinking. I focus on doing good work, and doing well at the good work I’m involved in. I bring a tremendous amount of mindfulness to the things I care about, and I’m constantly looking for ways to improve. To someone with less restlessness and less nervous energy, it would be an exhausting prospect to life this way. But I have a seemingly endless stream of energy that emanates from a simmering sense of panic, and a constantly restless mind, so  I have to do something with it.

Some might recommend medication to take the edge off. But that, dear reader, would probably land me in hot water. Without my edge, I fade away to a blob of ineffectual whatever-ness.

I build myself tools. I use spreadsheets to track my progress. I downloaded the (free and incredibly helpful) Getting Things Done Wiki and installed it on my laptop to track my projects and make sure I don’t forget what I’m supposed to be working on. I have even built myself a little daily activity tracking tool that I use to see if any of my issues are getting in my way. It not only lets me track my issues, but it also helps me learn the database technologies I need to know for my professional work.

I am constantly thinking about where I’m at, what I’m doing, why I’m doing it. I am rarely at rest, and when I am, it is for the express purpose of regaining my strength so I can go back at my issues with all my might and deal directly with them. I am at times not the most organized with my self-rehab, but I’m making progress. And I track what I’m doing, to make sure I’m not getting too far afield. And I check in with my neuropsychs on a weekly basis.

I also use external props to keep me in line. I build exercise and nutrition into my daily routine, so I have no choice but do do them — if I break my routine, I’m lost. The anxiety level is just too high. I commit myself to meetings that require me to be in a certain place at a certain time, so I have to keep on schedule. I work a 9-5 job that forces me to be on-time and deliver what I promise. I surround myself with people who have very high standards, and I hold myself to them. As I go about my daily activities, I do it with the orientation of recovery. Rehabilitation. Life is full of rehab opportunities, if you take the time — and make the point — to notice.

In many ways, my external tool-making and structure-seeking is like being a hermit crab finding and using shells cast off by other creatures for their survival. I don’t have the kind of inner resources I’d like to keep myself on track, and I don’t have the innate ability/desire to adhere to the kinds of standards I know are essential for regular adult functioning. I’ve been trying, since I was a little kid, to be the kind of person I want to be, and it’s rarely turned out well when I was running on my own steam.

So, I put myself in external situations and engage in the kinds of activities that require me to stay on track and adhere to the kinds of standards I aspire to. I seek out the company of people who are where I want to be — or are on the same track that I want to be on. And I “make like them” — I do my utmost to match them, their behaviors, their activities. And it works. I do a damned good impression of the person I want to be — even when deep down inside, I’m having a hell of a time adhering to my own standards.

The gap between who I want to be/what I want to do with my life, and how I actually am and what I actually accomplish is, at times, a vast chasm. I have so many weak spots that feel utterly intractable — and I need to do something about them. So, I use the outside world to provide the impetus and stimulation I require to be the person I know I can be, and to accomplish the things I long to do. I use the supports I can get, and I use whatever tools I have on hand. I fashion the world around me in a way that supports my vision of who I can be and what I can accomplish in my life. and I just keep going, layering on more and more experiential “shellack” that supports my hopes and dreams and vision.

Dear reader, if you only knew how different my fondest hopes and most brightly burning dreams have been from my actual reality throughout the course of my 4 decades-plus on this earth, you would weep for days, maybe weeks. But this is not the time to cry. Not when I have within my reach the means by which to put myself on the track I long for. Not when I have the resolve to take my life to the next level. Not when I have — at long last — the information I need to understand my limitations and my cognitive-behavioral makeup. Not when I have the drive and desire to live life to the fullest, to love and grow and learn and … and …

But enough — the day is waiting, and I have things I must get done.

Peace, out

BB

Throwing nuts at the cheetah

I had a really troubling dream just before I woke up this morning.

I was walking through the woods with two friends of mine. It was almost like a jungle or rain forest – the air was very humid and the trees were huge and spaced apart, and the forest floor was quite open — not a lot of underbrush, but springy underfoot. We were walking along a wide path that was well-worn, and we were talking about this and that. I believe we were discussing possible dangers from big cats that had been seen in the area.

If I remember correctly, the woods had been cleared of all dangerous wild animals a while back, but some big animals had escaped and had returned to their habitat, so hikers were warned to be very careful and not engage them.

We walked and talked for a while, and I was picking up stones and nuts and old pieces of tropical fruit that had fallen from the trees. I was tossing them around, and my friends were getting irritated with me. They wanted me to stop, but I didn’t feel like talking with them. They were just running at the mouth, and I was getting overwhelmed with all the words.

We were passing by an open clearing that was raised up above the path, when we looked up and saw a cheetah sitting in the sunlight. It was a beautiful animal, so sleek and strong. It also looked very dangerous and wild. My friends said we should walk by it slowly and not bother it. They were both terrified of it.

I was thinking that I knew how to deal with a big cat. I’ve learned (for real, not only in the dream) that with big cats, if you come across them, you have to face them down. Make yourself as big as possible and stare them in the eye. You cannot show any fear, and you cannot turn your back on them, because when they hunt, they go for the back of their prey’s neck. If you do show them fear, or you turn your back to them, they instinctively attack and go for you. This is why joggers and cyclists are often attacked by mountain lions in California — they have their back turned to the animal or their heads are down, exposing the backs of their necks, so the big cats attack.

I wasn’t afraid of the big cat, and I felt like I needed to show it who was boss. I also felt a kind of rush from the imminent danger — Here was a cheetah! A big cat this close! We were in danger for our lives! I felt that familiar rush of adrenaline that sharpens my senses and pumps me up and makes me do things that I would not do under normal circumstances. Something in me surged with daring, and I took a nut I’d been holding and threw it at the cheetah. I felt a thrill of danger course through me, and I cursed myself for having thrown it at the cat. The nut bounced near it, and the animal flinched, and it looked like it was going to back off and leave us alone. My heart was pounding and my mind was calculating what I would do in response to it. I was watching it very, very carefully, to see what it would do, and for a few moments, it looked like the big cat was going to withdraw into the woods and leave us alone.

But then my friends got very frightened that I’d thrown the nut at the cat, and they started to freak out and panic. My one friend started to shake and quiver, and my other friend, who is a bit overweight and doesn’t move very quickly in real life, took off running down the trail. In my dream, I was thinking, “What are you doing?! You’re going to catch its attention! Why are you running from a cheetah? You can’t outrun it! You have to stare it down. You have to stand your ground!“

I looked up at the big cat and saw it had suddenly spotted my friend. in an instant, it recovered its composure, sprang into action, and raced after my friend. It looked so beautiful in motion, all its sinews taut, its coat shining in the sunlight that filtered through the canopy above us. But my admiration was short-lived, as it caught up with my friend, grabbed them by the back of the neck, and started to run off with their body dangling from its jaw.

Frozen with horror for a moment, I took off running after the cheetah, yelling at the top of my lungs and willing myself to run faster. I was convinced I could catch it and wrestle my friend from its grip.

The big cat was very fast, though, and it was way ahead of me, with my friend’s body hanging from its jaws. I was horrified and mortified, and my other friend was screaming at me for throwing the nut at the cheetah and making it angry. In my head, I was trying to calculate how far the cheetah could get, carrying my friend’s heavy body, if I could catch up with it because it would be slowed down by the weight, and if I could get to it in time to save my friend. I suspected that my friend had been killed instantly, or that even if I did catch up, the cheetah would be eating them, so there wasn’t much point in my running after them.

Plus, I ran out of steam after a few hundred yards, and I had to stop. I was so upset at what had happened. On the one hand, I was upset with myself for throwing that nut, but I was also upset with my friend for not having better sense, and I was upset with the whole chain of events that was probably killing my friend.

I woke up very disturbed around 5:00, and I haven’t been able to get back to sleep.

I think that this dream has something to say about a lot of aspects of my life, these days. I have a lot of people around me who are very frightened for me, as I talk to them about my TBIs and the issues that go along with them. They’re like the friends in my dream, who just want to walk along quietly along a well-worn path in the woods, chatting about this and that, not really bothered by anything… cognizant that there are things amiss in the world, but not really eager to confront them.

There’s also a part of me that’s like that. I don’t want to be bothered by dangers in the woods. I want to just go along my merry way and not have to expend a lot of energy on things like dealing with large dangers that I come across.

But there’s also a part of me that gets bored with all that safe stuff, and I need to occupy myself. So I do things like picking up rocks and nuts and old pieces of fruit and tossing them around. I get bored pretty quickly, so I start casting about for new things to learn and do.

And sometimes my casting about uncovers big dangers along the way. Like this diagnostic imaging I’m going to have done — an MRI this weekend, and an EEG in another week or so. Who knows what will be uncovered as a result of that? Sometimes I cast about a bit too freely, and I can end up stirring up things that are unexpected and potentially dangerous… but are actually authentic pieces of my human experience.  (The interesting thing is that the cheetah in my dream actually belonged in the woods — it was its home, and it had just returned to its rightful place.)

Sometimes I cast about too carelessly, too — like tossing a nut at the cheetah. Or, I take a calculated risk and push the limits. In my dream, I didn’t just toss the nut at the cheetah for fun — I did it partly to show it that I meant business, and I wasn’t intimidated by it. I also wanted to scare it away. And it almost worked. But my friend with the weak nerves had to take off running — doing exactly the wrong thing, in that situation. They didn’t have the same information as I, apparently, and they let their fear get the best of them. And then all is lost.

This is pretty significant to me, in my real life experiences with others, because as I move forward, I’m going to have to educate the people around me about my condition(s) — TBI, etc. — so that they learn how to respond appropriately to the situation I’m in. I really don’t need them to freak out and get all worked up over things that A) we don’t know for sure, or B) are big and dangerous but are totally manageable with the right information and the right team of caregivers. I don’t need them to lose it and put themselves — or me — in danger. I need them to be cool, be present, be able to help in a substantive and constructive way.

As I go through this next phase of diagnostic testing — maybe it will show something, maybe it won’t — I need to keep my head on. I need to take care of myself and take things slowly, and not only know why I’m doing what I’m doing, but be clear with others why I’m doing it. Everybody needs to be in the loop, and that includes the parts of myself, too, that are prone to freak out and make poor choices out of fear, rather than knowledge and courage.

But at the same time, I also need to be cognizant of my tendency to court danger, as some kind of reflex, some inner/neuropsychological/biochemical need to sharpen and brighten mylife experience… to wake me up and keep me engaged in life. I need to be aware of my tendency to overstep my bounds, when I’m bored or tired or in need of some stimulation. I need to remember that, when it comes to taking on new challenges, I’m not always as smart as I think I am, and I’m not always up to the task of overcoming what I’m presented with. I can’t afford to forget that I rarely know as much as I need to know — either about myself or the situation I’m presented with. In my dream, I couldn’t chase down the cheetah, once it had hold of my friend. And I can’t always overcome my cognitive and behavioral issues as well as I’d like, once they take hold of me and get a ‘running start’ ahead of my logic and innate abilities.

When (not if) I meet a proverbial big cat on the path through my own “woods,” I need everyone with me — the parts inside and the people outside — to remain calm, make informed choices, and keep their heads. I need to focus on the basics — take care of my body and my mind and my spirit, with adequate rest and activities that feed and sustain me and build up my strength (not to mention common sense). And I need to be aware of my limits and not push them carelessly just because I need a thrill. I need to be aware that I do have a tendency (perhaps thanks to my PTSD) to court danger, just to feel awake and alive. And I need to remember that I’m much more use to my friends and family alive and healthy, than injured or dead. No matter how dangerous a situation may seem, the right information and the intention/willingness to intelligently proceed in the proper way can mean the difference between keeping on my path and making progress, and disaster.

Note to self: Get plenty of rest over the coming days and weeks. You’re going to need it, to do a decent job of handling all this.