Getting used to it — again

For some reason, there’s a part of me that thinks I’ll be able to soldier through this TBI stuff and come out on the other side, issue-free.

Like I won’t have any more sensitivity to noise or light when I’m tired.

Like I won’t feel like going off the deep end, when I get overwhelmed and fee cornered.

Like I will finally feel rested and be able to live each day with an abundance of energy.

Like I will feel like my old self again.

Broken record me – it’s not happening.

But check this out – that doesn’t so much matter.

I mean, it does matter that I generally feel like crap on any given day, that I feel like I’ve been dragged behind a bus, at any given moment, and I feel like I’m going to just drop from exhaustion and overwhelm at the least expected times. That’s no friggin’ fun, for sure.

But the main thing is — these things don’t have to ruin my life. Sure, its unpleasant. Sure, it’s troubling. Sure, it’s a hassle to deal with. But just because it affects me, doesn’t mean it has to affect others, make them miserable too, and ruin my chances of being able to do something worthwhile in the world.

I can live and do the things I need to do, regardless of how shitty I feel.

And if I can’t get these issues to go away, I can at least keep them from ruining everyone’s day.

Just manage them. Deal with it. Handle ‘em.

And get on with it.

Onward.

Managing TBI symptoms all around

Lots to work with

So, I’m headed back out on a business trip again next week, which means it’s probably going to be pretty quiet here for the next 10 days or so. I may get a chance to check in while I’m traveling, but I’m guessing things are going to be busy, so I might not get to check in.

One thing that’s been happening, which I’ve talked about before, is that I’ve been discussing my testing results with my neuropsych, comparing how I am now to how I was before. Back in 2008, when I had my first test, I was in pretty rough shape. I was struggling with a pretty constant sense of overwhelm, I had a pervasive sense that there was something terribly wrong with me, and my mental health was all over the map. I was borderline disabled… and headed in that direction, due — I’m sure — at least partly to the fact that almost all of my friends and associates were living disability-centric lives. By that I mean, they either considered themselves too broken to do much with their lives, or they devoted their lives to comforting and counseling the broken.

But in either case, their focus was on disability, wounding, victimization, and struggle. And in most cases, their perceptions of themselves and others was very similar — they not only helped wounded, damaged people, but to at least some extent, they also considered themselves wounded and damaged.

Sigh…

Anyway, the one exception to that has been my neuropsych, who has never let me get away with settling into a victim mindset, and who has really reminded me on a regular basis of what I really think about life — that it throws us some pretty intense curve-balls sometimes, and sometimes it really roughs us up, but in the end we do have the means and the ability to turn things around for ourselves and no matter how bad things may seem on the surface, we have the capacity to move on and do better.

And that’s been my experience. Truly, it has. They have helped me and offered me encouragement and information all along the way. Granted, I’ve only seen them for an hour a week — and sometimes not even that often. But they really have been a help. Because they’ve been the one person in my life who has not been sucked into the abysmal void of mistaken beliefs telling you that you have to settle for less, which I see all around me, each and every day.

I have been getting better. A lot better. My numbers are remarkably improved over last time. And we haven’t even gotten to the purely cognitive stuff yet.

What has been getting notably better is my overall functionality and my self-perception. The old depressiveness and the overwhelm is down — way down. Anxiety levels, impulsive acting on anger, social discomfort and avoidance, negative emotions, and my general sense of maladjustment are all significantly reduced — often to normal levels.  It’s literally like a light has turned on in my life. It’s like I am a completely different person on paper, and my life has gotten one of those major renovation makeovers you see on HGTV.

And yet, what all has changed? Seriously — what has actually changed in my life?

I don’t have the blindingly intense, constant headaches I once did, and the seizure-like behavior has subsided. I don’t go into anxiety/panic attacks the way I used to, and the anger and sense of confusion has subsided. But other than that, a lot of things have objectively stayed the same. I still have chronic physical issues — the pain, light-sensitivity, noise-sensitivity, balance issues, vertigo, headaches, insomnia, sleep issues, and I still find myself flying off the handle over things that “shouldn’t” get to me. I still get confused over things, I still lose track of where I am and what I’m doing, and I still actually have a lot of the 84 concussion/TBI issues that can make your life really interesting.

So, what’s changed? Basically, a few things have made a world of difference.

First, I am aware of the issues. I know I have these issues, I know that when I am not sleeping well, it affects my thinking and my sensory sensitivities, which makes life more of a pain in my ass. It’s not all this big mystery for me anymore — I’ve spent a lot of time observing my life and seeing what sets me off and what works, and after several years of serious study, I have a pretty good working understanding of what impacts me, and how.

Second, I have stopped fighting the issues. Sh*t happens. That’s just a fact. Especially with TBI. Instead of battling against the things that just are and fighting their existence, I use my energy for simply noticing that – yes, again – the sh*t has happened, and I need to respond to it, instead of wringing my hands and crying poor-me and cursing life for dealing me a crappy hand.

Third, I actively manage the issues. From my observations, I can clearly see that one thing leads to another, and I can tell when I need more sleep, or I need to wear my sunglasses when I go out. I generally know when I’m in rough shape (which is more often than I’d like, but oh well…), and I can then anticipate things going a certain way. For example, when I am very tired, I get clumsy. When I’m clumsy, I drop things. When I drop things, they often make loud noises, which startle me and set me off. So, when those things happen on days when I am tired, rather than getting completely bent over them, I just deal and move on. I take a deep breath, pick up the fork I’ve dropped and get a clean one from the drawer, and I eat my food. If I’m dizzy, I hold onto the side of the counter when I’m leaning over, so I don’t fall. And if I’m sick on my stomach because of fatigue and dizziness, I just move more slowly and eat my food at a more leisurely pace. And I get on with my day.

It might not sound like much — it might even sound very common-sense to a lot of folks — but for me, this is huge. It means the difference between

• starting out in a really shitty frame of mind, thinking I’m damaged and wrecked and whatnot, and not feeling up to much of anything… which often becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy… and
• starting out on a note that shows me that I can manage my situation just fine. It’s not ideal, but I can manage. And that certainly helps.

You know, it’s funny — while we were going over my test results, my neuropsych was saying how my physical problems had been really reduced almost to non-existence. Au contraire. Sure, they don’t ruin my life like before, but they are still very much there. They’ve been there for as long as I can remember. I’m just doing a hell of a lot better job of managing them, of dealing with them, of working them into my daily life, than ever before.

Again, being aware of them and realizing how they fit into the overall constellation of my life, how they shade my existence and contribute to things like anxiety and overwhelm and difficulties with thinking and processing information on the spot, has made a huge change. It’s not that I have this identity as a disabled person who cannot do anything much with their life. I have an identity as a human being who can do a lot with what they have, despite the issues that come up on a regular basis. I manage my TBI issues all around, and while it’s not my favorite way to live at times, it still gives my life a unique and very hopeful feel.

It pretty much sucks that I have these issues, and that they show no signs of going away permanently. But at the same time, I usually know how to handle them, so even though they’re there, they don’t have to ruin — and run — my life. They’re just there. Background noise. Oh, well. If nothing else, they are an opportunity to learn.

So, the bottom line is that things aren’t perfect. When are they ever? But I can manage. I do manage. Personally, if something has to be wrong (and part of me think there’s always gotta be something), I’d rather have it be this, than something more terrible that is insurmountably soul-sucking. There are plenty of folks who struggle in pain they cannot identify or address, and I’m not one of them. Not anymore. I struggle, sure, but after years or work, now I can identify the real source of the pain, and I can sure as hell do something about it.

So yeah — onward.

SO good to be home, for good

It surely is. After traveling overseas in December, and then again in February, I have to say it is pretty awesome to be home for the foreseeable future. They may ask me to travel again in a few months, but I need to pace myself and make sure I don’t overdo it. ‘Cause man, I am wiped.

It’s funny — I didn’t have as much trouble with being tired, when I was over there. I was able to regulate my sleep and I felt pretty functional, overall. But coming back, my sleeping has been all screwed up, and I am having a hard time getting back on track. Add to that the drama at work around the re-org, and all the uncertainties and insecurities, and you end up with a lot of reasons NOT to come to work.

But hey, at least I got a promotion out of it — at least, I think that’s what happened. My title changed to something pretty respectable, which is good. It gives me something to work with, when it comes to politics. It also gets me out of the trenches, which is nice, and puts me on par with managers. Actually “Manager” is part of my new title, which is nice. And it gives me something to parlay into something even better, when I start talking to headhunters again.

In any case, it’s all a grand theater production, when you get down to it, so I can’t get to attached to much of anything. Things change daily, and it’s maddening, if you get your heart set on much of anything. Me? I’m just taking it as it comes and treating it like experience. Because in the end, that’s the only thing I really “own” — not my title, not my job, just my experience. And I can do with it whatever I choose.

It’s funny, while I was traveling, I discovered that there was an awful lot I did not notice, even though my colleague did. I didn’t see a lot of things that they called to my attention, while we were going back and forth to the office (our hotel was about a mile from the office, and we walked to work and back each day, which was good exercise). I was so focused on just making my way from Point A to Point B and beyond… so intent on not getting pulled in different directions… not getting run down by the local drivers… not losing my orientation and getting completely overwhelmed to the point where I’d shut down… that I didn’t see a lot of things that my colleague saw and commented on.

At first it bothered me a little bit. I didn’t want to be so affected by the noise and the lights and the cold and the heat. I didn’t want to have to focus so intently on what was in front of me, that I missed the things around me. I didn’t want to have a limited experience because of my hyper-sensitivities. But that’s how it was.

Then I got to thinking that being that focused was not a bad thing — it kept me from wandering in circles. And when you think about it, there’s no sense in experiencing everything all at once. Where’s the sense of discovery then? Where’s the adventure? It would all become too familiar too soon, too easy, too bland, if I took in everything right from the start.

The way I was, missing so much, the first few times, it left a lot for me to discover later, and I did — with a true sense of newness each time. Because it was new to me.

The other thing about being so focused, was that it blocked out a lot of things that could have been upsetting and could have thrown me off, on what was a very important trip… namely, that my father nearly died two days before I flew out, and they did a pretty significant medical procedure on him, and I still managed to “stay in the game” while maintaining good contact with him and my mother and the rest of my family in the hours leading up to my departure. All the focus kept me on track. My father is fine. He’s on the mend. So, I wasn’t being a “bad child” and neglectful, because I wasn’t thrown by his illness. And that’s a good feeling.

The other thing about the focus, though, is that I completely forgot about him being sick, much of the time I was there — and even when I talked with my neuropsych on Monday. You’d think that I’d remember that and discuss the situation, but I completely forgot about it. Jet lag… yeah. And such intent focus on what was in front of me, that I overlooked that important event. Completely forgot it had ever happened.

Whoever said “Happiness is good health and a bad memory,” was right.

And now I am exhausted. It’s time to go to bed. I am so done, it’s not even funny.

So, off I go.

Till later…

Ah, Groundhog Day…

I have a feeling I’ve been here before…

I’m not talking about the recent event when the behavior of a groundhog (or groundhogs, depending on your regional preference) determines our future. I’m talking about the movie,”Groundhog Day”  where Bill Murray’s character goes through the same day over and over and over again.

This is my life in a nutshell. I cycle through the same experiences / crap / joys / sorrows on a regular basis, each time without much active recollection of how it was before and what my experience was then. It applies to the good things, as well as the bad things, and my neuropsych is repeatedly surprised that I’m wrangling with the same issues that I was wrangling with, several weeks, months, or even years ago. Sometimes I have “new” experiences that are repeats of what I experienced only the day before, and I have to go through the whole learning process all over again.

One example I can think of was back in December, when I had that business trip overseas. Each day, I got up with this terrible, terrible dread — almost crippling anxiety over what was going to happen that day. It was awful, and I literally did not want to leave my room. I just wanted to stay behind closed doors, where I had no interaction with anyone, where I couldn’t possibly screw things up, and where I could move at my own pace and not adapt to anything new or different around me.

And each day, I literally forced myself to get dressed and go out into the world. Each day, I rediscovered that I was able to communicate, that I was capable of understanding what others were saying, even if I didn’t get every single word, and that the world outside was something to be explored and discovered, not dreaded and avoided.

Then the next day when I got up again, it was back to battling the crippling dread, the fear, the anxiety… the monumental effort of getting myself OUT the door… and the happy discovery that I could indeed handle myself well in the world beyond the hotel room. And at the end of each day, I was able to kick back and really enjoy myself in that space, just reveling — all over again — in the “discovery” that I was really going to be okay.

Now I have another business trip coming up that will take me overseas. This time I am going to a country where I do not speak the language. I have been studying a bit, which has been kind of funny — I found some audio files to learn from, but when I started to listen to them, it turned out to be all “Stop or I’ll shoot!” and “Put down your weapon!” and “How many armed men are there?” — apparently a law enforcement or military training course. At least I know how to say “Don’t shoot!” if I get into any trouble while I’m on my trip. You never know… there are some pretty rough neighborhoods where I’m going.

Anyway, the point I’m making is that for some reason, I seem to have just a terrible, terrible memory for things that have happened to me before. This is true of good things… and bad things. I seem to get myself into situations, over and over again, doing the same thing and expecting different results, and then I suffer and chafe when things don’t turn out like I think they’re going to.

Like trying to get out of the house to get to work… Time and time again, I get up thinking that I can just take a little time to check my email and/or do some little things around the house, and then I’ll be able to get to work on time. And time and time again, I get sidetracked on one thing or another… and I end up rushing and being later than I wanted to be. I make up the difference at the back end, of course, staying late — even later than I would have to, actually, because I start to warm up around 6 p.m., and it’s hard for me to take a break when I’m finally making good progress. Even so, even if I do make up the difference in the hours, the simple fact is that I do this over and over again, thinking that this time it will be different.

Insane? Well, according to some, it is. Whatever you call it, it gets frustrating, and I feel like a complete idiot.

I guess part of the equation of this apparent failure to learn, is the fact that I have to stay very present in the current moment, or I can really lose my bearings. I think this 100% here-and-now mindset has developed over years of having to navigate so many issues — light sensitivity, noise sensitivity, exhaustion, vertigo, nausea, pain of all kinds, headache, distractability, and more — but still needing to be functional. I think I just developed the habit of focusing so completely on the present so that I could function in that moment, that everything else — before and after — just disappears. Or it never has a chance to get set in my mind.

I think also the stress of daily living over the years has impaired my ability to learn. Just having to deal with all the sh*t of my issues and symptoms and the screw-ups and the adjustments and the confusions and distractions… it can get pretty stressful, and I’m sure it’s had some impact on my ability to learn.

Then again, in other areas I learn extremely well — like this language thing. I’m actually picking up a lot of good stuff, and I think I’ll be able to at least ask people for help and understand basic numbers and directions, and be able to thank people for their help, without too much struggle. Languages seem to come pretty naturally to me, and it surprises me how much sense they make to me after a relatively short period of time.

So, it’s not like I’m completely disabled with my learning. But experiential learning? There, again and again, I end up going through the same things, as though it were the first time ever.

Well, I can’t worry about it. If I approach it like it’s a grand adventure of constant discovery, and I treat each situation like a fun opportunity to have a “new” experience, it’s fine. It keeps me fresh, actually. It keeps me interested in my life. It’s never boring — that’s for sure. The worst thing I can do, is treat myself this means there’s something wrong with me, that it means I’m somehow damaged. If I don’t judge myself and I just accept that about myself — and come up with ways to work with/around my very limited memory… and I don’t get it in my head that this means I have early-onset dementia and I’m losing my mind…. I can work with this.

Hell, I’ve been working with it for as long as I can remember. I just “get lost” sometimes and I have to find my way out of the shadows and dead-ends… which I can do pretty well. I’ve had plenty of practice, you see.

Anyway, life goes on. I have a number of very interesting projects I am working on, and that’s keeping me interested and engaged in my life. I’m learning new things pretty well, and I feel good. I also got a lot of sleep yesterday afternoon, after I was done with my work. I worked from home, so I was able to just crawl into bed when I was done for the day. That was nice. I got about 7 hours of sleep last night, so that’s good, too. And I have all day today and all day tomorrow to kick back and take care of myself. Because I’m flying out in another week, and I need to be healthy and whole to make this trip.

So it goes. Part of me would like to have a better recollection of the things that I have experienced in the past, so that I don’t keep making the same mistakes, and I don’t keep pushing myself and wearing myself out. And I’m thinking about ways I could do that — maybe keep a log of what works for me in different situations, so I can draw on what has worked for me in the past… I had that kind of a log going, about 3 years ago, and it was working well for me. I think maybe I need to resurrect it, so I can continue to draw on my experiences and get my sh*t together better than I currently am. It’s an idea….

Anyway, the day is waiting, and I’ve got to get a move on. It’s always interesting and never boring… and I need to remind myself of how things have been in the past, as I work through my present and into my future.

I’ve been here before, I’m sure… now I need to figure out how to make the best of it.

 

TBI Recovery – like life on the high seas

Avast there…

I’ve heard it said that it takes about seven years of recovery for a person to start feeling “like themself” again after traumatic brain injury. That sounds about right to me. And now that I’ve been at it (actively) since 2007, I’m coming up on seven years — next year.

What a long, strange trip it’s been. From nearly losing everything, to sabotaging job after job, to watching my friends go away, to the relationship/marriage troubles and health issues, to slowly building myself back… it has been a trip. But it’s finally starting to feel like things are stabilizing for me.

When I say “things” I mean internal things. Not external things. Learning to live with TBI is like going to sea and learning to walk across the deck of a ship that’s rolling through all sorts of seas. Between the sensory issues, the focusing issues, the distraction problems, the mood swings, the irrational and literal and rigid thinking issues… if it’s not one thing, it’s another, and just getting used to the idea that this is just how things are, has been a battle in itself.

But that’s the deal. This is how things are. And there’s no sense in trying to tamp it all down and get things to chill, because no sooner does one wave pass, than another comes along.

Walking across the deck… yeah. That’s about the best metaphor I can think of. And it puts me in the mood to read some seafaring adventure stories – Captains Courageous, Treasure Island, Two Years Before The Mast… stories I remember from when I was younger, that I really loved and enjoyed. It kinda puts me in the mood to tie knots with heavy rope…

And that’s one thing that the seafaring metaphor does for me — it raises dealing with TBI issues from a hindrance and an inconvenience and a problem, to being just part of what I have to deal with on the “high seas” of life. Rather than turning the issues into problems and vexations, it turns my ability to deal with them into strengths and abilities that I didn’t have before. I’ve been deep sea fishing a few times, and I know from personal experience that “sea legs” don’t just happen overnight. It takes time. You have to learn to roll with it. I’ve never been out to sea long enough for this to “take” with me, but I would imagine that I could learn to do just about anything, given the opportunity and time.

And opportunity and time are just what I have, with regard to this stuff.

Today, I’m pretty dizzy and off-balance. I’m also having trouble keeping focused on one thing at a time. I’m working from home today, giving myself one more day to recoup before I go back into the office, and I still don’t have my full strength back. No surprises there – I was flat on my back for a week, and this won’t fix itself overnight. I just feel “off” today — spacey and tired and weakened. I’ll see how it goes, with getting my work done. And I’ll see how it goes, taking frequent breaks to just get my head settled again.

It’s not so very different from some days when I wake up after days and weeks of not getting enough sleep, and I have to work at my peak level. It’s not so very different from some days when I’m off balance and foggy for no reason that I can tell at all. It’s not so very different from dealing with the light and noise sensitivities, the headaches, the malaise… it’s not very different from that at all. And the emotional impact it has — the frustration, the short temper, the anger, the temper flashes from a very short fuse — that’s very similar, as well.

It’s all part of life on the high seas.

Of course, it’s easy for me to say all this, years on down the line after my latest concussion injury in 2004. At the very start, when nothing made sense and I was dealing with so many, many issues that I didn’t recognize and didn’t realize were a problem, the whole business made me sick. Literally. Like being out at sea for the first time, I was in a constant state of nausea and disequilibrium. I felt stupid, I felt like an idiot, and I felt so incredibly defective because I couldn’t regulate my emotions or my behavior. Everything was falling apart around me, and I didn’t know why. And not knowing made it even worse. Not knowing that I didn’t know…  that was the worst thing of all.

So many times, I look at the stats for this blog and I see people searching for “concussion now I’m dumb” or “does concussion make you stupid”. And I remember so well what it was like to feel so stupid, all of a sudden, and not know why nothing was working for me anymore. I seriously didn’t have a clue. I knew I had hit my head. I knew I had gotten hurt. But I had no idea the effects could be as big and impactful as they turned out to be. I thought it would all clear up in a matter of a few days.

How wrong I was.

What I didn’t realize was that each time my head bounced off those stairs, connections in my brain got twisted and frayed, possibly even severed. What I didn’t realize was that those connections had taken a lifetime to put in place, and now that they were disrupted, I was going to need to practice and practice and practice, rehearse and rehearse and rehearse… doing many of the things I used to do so easily, but now had to learn to do in a slightly different way. I almost wish that the differences had been obvious — things like walking and talking. But it was really the little things, like learning and managing emotions and remembering details, that had been disrupted. And those disruptions were even more upsetting, because they weren’t something that others could see or often even detect. The only one who could tell a real difference was me… And inside, I was a torn-up mess.

Of course, years on down the line, I can look back with some perspective and understand what was going on. But at the time, before I learned all I have in the past 6-7 years, I had no perspective. I had no information. And I was going nowhere fast. No, correction — I was going somewhere fast — down, down, down. I’m just lucky that I noticed something was wrong before I went over the edge and lost everything.

Not everyone is as fortunate as I am. Not everyone manages to get it as quickly as I did. A whole lot of people struggle in silence and tell themselves to just push on through… never getting the help they need. And that’s a terrible, awful waste. Not everyone understands that the high seas they are on, are going to always be there… that once you’re on the TBI / PCS  ship, you’re not getting off. You may have some calm days, you may have some serene days, but you’ll also have fog and shoals and doldrums… and the storms will always come up again — you can bank on that.

Not everyone is stuck for all time with post-concussive issues, and thank God for that. But for those of us who are, probably the best thing to do is just settle into the daily routine of sailing the high seas… get your sea legs… and get ready for adventure. You never know, you might just come across some treasure, along the way.

Ahoy….

TBI Heroes – ‘Cause that’s how everyone wants it

Junior went too soon. Buddy, you are missed.

As I sit here in bed, surrounded by my flu meds and fluids, I have plenty of time to think about things I normally don’t, in the course of my busy everyday life. The (not unexpected) news that Junior Seau had CTE at the time he shot himself in the chest, last May, has been on my mind. A lot.

And as I’ve been weighing the pros and cons of going back to work in time to work a professional conference (we’re talking about 5 solid days of being on my feet, running and working and also doing a presentation for a colleague who can’t make it), I have to wonder what in hell’s name makes me think I should even consider doing this?!

Seriously, it would be madness for me to dive right into that. See, the whole conference thing also includes air travel. In an enclosed aircraft. During one of the worst flu outbreaks in something like 10 years. And it includes being surrounded by thousands of people from all over the country, some of whom may be sick, themselves. And it includes going-going-going for 12-14 hours a day, for 5 days straight. I’ve worked this event twice before, and even when I was hale and hearty and feeling fine, I was completely wiped out by the end. If I push it, this time, then what? I end up back in the hospital?

For what?

Am I insane?

Actually, no. I’m just in the habit of pushing myself. Because unless I push, nothing gets done. See, this is what most people don’t get about me and my situation. I cover things up really well. I mean really well.

Who would ever guess that on any given day I could wake up being so wobbly and off-balance, that if I don’t maintain some contact with an upright surface, such as a wall or a piece of furniture, I’m going to fall over? I’ve learned to mask that extremely well, being ultra nonchalant as I stroll along at a “leisurely” pace. I’ve learned, over the years, how to keep myself upright by keeping a very straight posture – which is probably why some people assume I have a military background – I don’t, they just seem to assume that if I stand up straight I must have been trained. Actually, I have been trained – by life. Because I’ve learned the consequences of not keeping my posture aligned, and it’s no damn’ fun.

And who would ever guess that the “cool shades” I wear are not at all for style’s sake, but to keep myself from losing it over the bright lights all around me? I wear sunglasses in the winter as well as the summer, because the snow is even more glaring on me than summer sunlight. Some days, when I am really tired, any variation in light – a sudden flash or a bright piercing sunbeam – can set off klaxon alarms in my head.

Noise, too — there’s nothing like having the voices of your loved ones turned into spikes driven into your brain, because you’ve reached just the right level of fatigue and sensory overload. Not being able to listen to the songs sung by one of your sibling’s kids, when they just put something on YouTube and they want to sing it for you in person… that’s a pretty lousy way to spend a Christmas afternoon.  Of course, you can’t let on that you’re baked, you can’t tolerate any more noise, and if anyone says one more thing to you, your head is going to implode. You just suck it up and move on. You think of other things. You put on a happy face. You keep going and keep smiling.

Because that’s what everyone needs.

They don’t need to know the gory details of how you haven’t been able to sleep a full night for months, now…. and how everything that touches your skin feels like it’s burning through to the bone… and how the ringing in your ears is drowning out everything, which is why you have to keep asking people to repeat themselves… and how you haven’t actually understood much of what anyone has said to you for the past two hours, and most of the stuff you did understand, you’ve since forgotten. People don’t want to know about that. They don’t want to know about the increasingly frequent memory lapses, the flawed judgment calls, the time management issues, the distractability. They don’t want to hear about how bone-tired you are, how confused you are, how frustrated you are with every damn thing that comes across your path.

They don’t want to know you’ve been simmering at a near-boil for days on end, now, blowing up at the people closest to you, because you’re so fried by all the sensory overload and the fatigue and the defeat of never being able to out-run or out-maneuver these things. They don’t want to know that as much as you might get a bit of relief, now and then, the issues will still be back later, and you can count on that. They don’t want to know about the jumpiness, the hair trigger temper, the flashes of rage that tear through your insides like fire across a dry prairie. They don’t want to know about how you’ve used just about every “tool in your toolbox” to keep it together, but things are raveling just a little bit thin, these days.

Nope. They don’t want to hear about that — any of it. Especially if they know you as a can-do type of person who always manages to figure things out. If you’re the go-to person in their life, they depend on you NOT being any of the things you actually feel like, day in and day out. And God forbid you should ever speak up and ask for some help.

Because when you do that, they either laugh at you, or they get freaked out, because nobody — but nobody — can seem to hear anything about TBI or concussion or any other sort of brain issue, without thinking about themself and questioning themself and confronting the bare-ass fact that deep down inside, the heroes are still human.

I’ve been a hero for a long, long time. At work, I’ve often had a sort of “folk hero” reputation for having accomplished the things I did. Because I never gave up. Because I looked the beast in the eye and still moved forward. Because I took on projects that others ran from, and I made it all work in the end. I’ve been a champion for as long as I can remember, and I’ve been rewarded for it, too.

So, when I fell in 2004, and that all started to unravel, the hammer came down pretty hard. I was failing. I was coming up short. I was not living up to expectations. And that was unacceptable. People talk about how you shouldn’t be afraid to fail, how you shouldn’t be afraid to come up short sometimes. Those people write books for a living, clearly, and they obviously don’t have their level of compensation and their family’s welfare on the line, every time they are tested. Those people piss me off. Because the ones who write our paychecks (and often have us by the short-n-curlies) attach a price to our performance.

Not only that, but the whole world around us attaches a price to our performance. And this is the thing that makes me absolutely nuts about the people who go on and on about how “formative” failure can be. Yeah, homelessness is formative, too. As is long-term unemployment. The price of failure in today’s world is NOT just popularity — is is your very way of life. It can even be your life. Period.

And how much moreso for someone like Junior Seau? Someone on whose shoulders so much rested — the restaurant, the foundation, the reputation…. Someone who had flown so high, and was never going to fly that high again, as far as he could tell. To grapple with the things I’ve got going on, in my low-profile life as just-about-nobody, is hard enough. But to do it in the glare of the public eye? How the hell do you do that?

Maybe, you just don’t.

And in all the talk about Junior Seau’s death and CTE and changes that need to be made to football, the thing that’s been missing for me — the big, big thing that seems like it might actually make a substantive difference in all this — is how people with brain injuries are treated… How anybody who doesn’t “measure up” is treated by once-adoring fans.  Once you set the bar high, it’s your job to keep out-doing yourself and keep it moving ever upwards, ever onwards. But that’s a fantasy and a myth born of Hollywood and personal improvement gurus. And it puts the onus of keeping your shit together on the person who might actually need the most help.

If the truth be told, we live in an exacting and unforgiving society. I have no idea how we got to this place, where everyone seems to need to believe they are invincible — or could be. And I have no idea how we have created a culture where it is perfectly okay to punish those who don’t live up to our expectations, as though they were homicidal criminals. Life is full of disappointments. And yet we carry on as though we should never, ever be disappointed, and we should always get exactly what we want, because we “deserve” it.

What exactly do we “deserve” anyway? That others meet our fantastical expectations in every way, until the end of time? Who says anyone owes us that? Who says we are entitled? The thing of it is, most of us structure our lives around the roles we play and the ways we fit into each others’ lives, within those roles. So, when our abilities change and we need to adjust our roles, it can be terribly frightening for others to deal with us. Because a change to us is a change to them. And if they’re not ready to shoulder more of the “load” of making sense of life with their own resources (rather than ours), then the loss of our presence in their lives in that certain role, can be terribly frightening, disorienting, almost incapacitating.

How very human of us.

I guess in the end, there are no easy answers, and it’s simple enough to get upset and pissed off over sad things that should never have happened, but did.

When all is said and done, the fact of the matter is, some of us are hero material. For one reason or another, we have learned how to push ourselves through thick and thin… and come out victorious on the other side. Some of us know how to put aside our own personal safety and well-being for the sake of others. And some of us are in the habit of doing that on a regular basis. Now, I’m no firefighter or first responder or doctor without borders, but I am in the habit of putting the needs of the many over my own individual wishes and needs. And it’s served others well over the years.

Now, with this flu still raging, I’m doing a reality check and seeing quite clearly that this is no time to be a hero. If can’t do the job at the conference next week, someone else is going to have to take my place. There may be others working the event who are also sick and choose to work it, anyway, but this one I’m going to have to sit out. I hate the idea and it goes against everything in me, but I’ve just got to do it, this time.

It’s not what I want. And it’s not what the folks I’m working with want. But it’s what’s got to be done. This one time, I don’t have to be a hero.

Bringing light

Light is where you find it – find more art like this at http://www.atagar.com/bobsGallery/

I’ve been thinking a lot about this holiday season – and all the ways that it’s associated with light. Most of the “big” traditions I know about feature light of some kind, and no wonder — this time of year is when the days become longer, and we literally can celebrate the return of the light. It’s a physiological thing, as well as a psychological and spiritual thing. And it’s well worth celebrating.

I celebrated yesterday by walking deeper in the woods than I have in a long time. Once upon a time, when I first moved to this place, I was out in the woods for most of my waking hours every weekend, rain or shine, good weather or bad. I guess I’ve always been drawn to the forest — it was the one place I felt at home when I was a kid, and there’s something really calming about being in the woods. When I was younger, I wanted to be a forest ranger, until my guidance counselor talked me out of it because it wasn’t “practical”.

Hm.

Anyway, now I get to be my own forest ranger, and I don’t have to worry about government funding cutting me off from my livelihood, so it’s not all bad, the way it turned out. And yesterday I got a good reminder of the things that matter most to me in my life — clean air, fresh water, room to roam, and friendly, like-minded people also sharing the paths.

And I couldn’t help but think about how — for years after my concussion/TBI in 2004 — I couldn’t go into the woods. I just couldn’t. There was too much stimuli there for me. It was either too bright or too dark, or it was too quiet or it was too loud. I got tired so quickly, and when I did, I got confused and anxious. And the idea of interacting with anyone I came across on the paths, was out of the question. I panicked anytime I had to interact with someone who was out for a nice quiet hike like myself. I also got turned around and lost very easily, and since I have never had the best sense of direction to begin with, I would spend hours just trying to find my way back to where I wanted to go. I told myself I was “exploring” but the fact was, I was getting lost and had to keep walking to find my way back.

And half the time, I couldn’t remember where I’d come from. Even reading maps was impossible for me. Especially reading maps.

So, I quit going into the woods. I gave up my forest. And things were very dark and dreary for a number of years. The crazy part was, I told myself it was by choice, not something I was stuck doing, because I was so trapped in anxiety and sensory overwhelm.

What changed it? I think just living my life. Working with my neuropsychologist to just talk through my daily experience. Also, doing my breathing exercises — and exercising, period. And practicing, practicing, practicing some more at the things I wanted to do, until I could do them pretty close to how I wanted to. And learning to not be so hard on myself for being different now than I was before.

I also really paid attention to the times when I saw signs of more functionality — like when I started going on hikes again, after years away from them. Like when I was able to read an entire book, after years of only being able to read short papers — and not understand much of them at all. Like when I gave things my best shot, and found them turning out pretty darned close to how I intended — sometimes even better.

Taking the edge off my anxiety, giving myself a break, focusing on things that were bigger and more significant than my own petty concerns… those helped. Those brought light to my life.

And it continues to get better.

When I think back on how I was, just five years ago, it amazes me. I was so trapped in a dark place, confused and not knowing what was wrong with me. I didn’t understand what was holding me back, I didn’t understand what was stopping me from just living my life. I didn’t understand how confused I was or what I was confused about. I couldn’t discern the different issues I had, because it was all just a dark blob of problems that pulsed like a nebula of hurt and pain and confusion. When I think about how things are now — with so much light and so much more possibility… it amazes me.

There are answers out there, if we look… if we know to ask. There are solutions out there, if we take the time to be clear about what the issues truly are. There is hope out there, when we are willing to take a chance, have some courage, and move on — move on.

As the days lengthen and we roll towards the spring (I know, winter is just now beginning, officially)… as we take this holiday season to step away from the everyday grind and do something different with ourselves… as we try to imagine what else is out there for us… let’s all remember that as dark as it gets sometimes, the night does pass. There is always dawn and a new day, just around the corner.

Yes, let there be light.

Searchers Top 27 for August 24, 2012

August is nearly over. Back to School season is well underway. Kids have gone off to college for the first time, leaving plenty of parents wondering where all the years went. It’s becoming cooler, and the light is changing. Fall is right around the corner.

Here are the Top 27 searches people entered to get to this blog today, along with my responses.

1. how to slow down my heart rate – This is a common search that brings people here all the time. Click here to read what I’ve said — I hope it helps.
2. loneliness – Yeah, you and me both. I’ve been feeling really lonely, lately, partly because my work situation is so stressful and amped-up, and partly because I just don’t have that much interaction with people. Most of the time, I get depressed, when I see how people behave. It’s just not right. The political scene makes me nauseous. All the social debates and terrible things people do to each other — it’s so unnecessary and so pointless and it doesn’t achieve anything lasting that really helps. Everybody has pain, but not all of us inflict it on others. And those of us who are determined to not inflict pain on others for our own personal gain, tend to be fewer and farther between than I’d like. It’s lonely out there. But sometimes we manage to find people who can relate to us — and then it’s a little less lonely. That helps.
3. solution for extreme light sensitivity – The only solution I’ve been able to find, other than sunglasses, is rest. And lots of it. When I am tired, I can become very sensitive to light. When I am stressed by having to process too much information around me, I can’t tolerate light. Resting and relaxing help.
4. weakness is pain leaving the body – I’ve ranted about this before. ‘Nuff said.
5. can being overtired cause you to feel dumb – Yes. Especially with TBI. And it’s not just feeling dumb. It’s being dumb — for myself, that is. I can’t speak for anyone else. When I am overtired, I can become a friggin’ idiot. Impulse control goes out the window, along with complex thought. It’s not pretty. I get Dumb and Dumber.
6. what makes tbi a mental condition – Well, it happens in your brain, so that’s mental. And it affects your mind, as well — the mind and the brain are two different things. The brain is an organ, the mind is the whole system (including your cardio-pulmonary “brain” and your enteric nervous system “brain”) managing the flow of energy and information throughout your whole body and your whole life. I personally believe that TBI contributes to mental illness the same way that other traumas do — it kicks your fight-flight system into high gear and it can keep it there indefinitely, if you’re not aware of what’s going on or if you haven’t found a way to get out of that adrenaline loop. TBI can seriously mess with your biochemistry and set you up for depression, impulse-control issues, behavioral issues, and a whole lot of other problems that come from having a nervous system that’s totally whacked out. You may start out with a relatively “mild” injury, but if important aspects of your life are disrupted in ways that put you on constant guard and alert, eventually it will take a toll. Unless you can do something about that and figure out how to adjust and adapt, you can find yourself worse off, after a few years, than you were at the start. It happened to me, and it happens to a lot of people.
7. impact brain test – I am not a huge fan of computer testing for concussion and pre-concussion baselines, mainly because people tend to use machines as crutches and often don’t put in the work they need to do, to understand and respond appropriately. If someone gets an Impact testing package, does that mean they don’t have to understand concussion/TBI, and they can just rely on the machine? Of course not. But not all people think that way, so ultimately it might do more harm than good. Education about concussion and the best way to handle it — by an independent person who has been properly trained and doesn’t have a vested interest in overlooking injury for the sake of “winning” — is really the best way to go.
8. how well did my job interview go – Good question. That’s always a hard one for me. I usually find out later, but it’s notoriously difficult for me to tell, right after it happened.
9. i forget where i am – I forgot where I was, about a week ago. I was driving through some woods not far from my home, in a section where I’m usually paying close attention to traffic and don’t look around much. I looked around me, and I did not recognize anything. I couldn’t even remember where I was going, for a few seconds. It probably lasted about 5-10 seconds, then I turned a corner and I recognized where I was. It was a little eerie, and it kind of freaked me out, but it happens.
10. live by choice, not by chance. make changes, not excuse. be motivated, not manipulated. work to excel, not compete. listen to your inner voice, not the jumbled opinions of everyone else – Yes, what they said.
11. pain is weakness leaving the body quote – see above
12. univ of buffalo brain injury treatment – These folks have a protocol that helps people recover from concussion — even people with long-standing persistent issues. They also have a great success rate (last I checked). I have a bunch of things I’ve written about them here.
13. ways to slow down your heart rate – Again, see above
14. off work following a concussion – Probably smart. I never stopped working after my concussion(s), and it got me in trouble. It blinded me to the problems I was having, because I was so busy pushing and pushing and pushing, that I didn’t stop to look at what was going on with me. Only when I took time off to help a family member who was seriously ill, did I realize that my thinking was messed up, my noise and light sensitivities were intense, and I was in constant stress for reasons I didn’t understand. Taking time off work is so important. I hope the person who searched on this is making the most of it.
15. tbi and anger – They tend to go hand-in-hand. Either someone was an angry person before, and their TBI has made things worse, or they underwent some personality changes because the way their brain worked before isn’t the same as it is now, and they get stressed, agitated, and they’re not able to regulate their emotions a well as before. Rage tends to accompany TBI, too. It’s a problem — and it’s probably responsible for a lot of people going to jail. Dealing with TBI-induced anger is critical — both for the survivor and the people around them.
16. contagious trauma in managing change – It happens. It’s not easy to watch people go through things, and you can end up going through things, as well. Also, when you’re dealing with someone who has wild mood swings and outbursts and may be edgy, you can develop trauma having to deal with them every day. Being threatened by someone else is not easy, even if they have good reason to be on edge. But trauma is the “gift that keeps on giving” and it sometimes is contagious.
17. navy seal positive self talk – I’ve written some things here (follow the link)
18. i got a concussion now i cant feel emotions – This is understandable. Here’s how I think this works (based on my own experience, not on any research I’ve read). When you get a concussion, your whole system may need to work harder just to do the same things as before. Because it has to work harder, you depend more on stress hormones and adrenaline to keep going. Especially if the symptoms are confusing, disruptive, unwelcome, and uncontrollable, you can find yourself always on edge and always on guard. When that happens, your biochemistry shuts down the parts of you that are “unnecessary” — the emotions, the feelings, the more receptive parts of you. Your system is so busy trying to keep up, that it loses touch with the feeling parts of itself. After a while, you can get out of practice and end up feeling like a block of wood. That happened to me. I lost all the emotional stuff (aside from anger and rage and sadness and frustration), and I felt like a block of wood walking around. I’m starting to feel like that again, with my current job situation, so I know it’s time to go.
19. you know you’re tired when this happens – Yes, you sure do.
20. do you use your vagus nerve to sing? – I think the vagus nerve is affected (in a good way) by singing, but I’m not sure it helps you sing.
21. head ramming concussion symptoms – You can get a TBI/concussion from head-banging. The symptoms will vary from person to person, but if someone is behaving differently (and seeming more stupid) than before, and they’ve been ramming their head against something, could be they have a concussion. And they should take care of themself so they can start behaving like a regular person again, as well as get smart again. These things can heal with time – but it takes time.
22. mild tbi two years later – Is not uncommon. Some of us end up having symptoms for a while. It’s not uncommon. It has been said that about 85% of concussed folks recover fully without further problems, but that means 15% don’t. I’m one of the 15%. And in fact (thanks markinidaho for the nudge), when you get down to it, concussion effects are permanent. Even if you don’t have intense issues, you can still be more sensitive to caffeine and alcohol and drugs, and you’re always going to be more susceptible to another concussion.  I’m still dealing with TBI stuff, more than 7 years after my last concussion (nearly 8 – coming up this Thanksgiving). That one came after more than 8 prior concussions, which started when I was a young kid. When the brain changes, it changes. And working with it to change it in a different direction has been an ongoing process with me. It just doesn’t end.
23. brain injury complacency – Is also not uncommon. People tend to shrug it off, because people have been getting hit in the head for thousands of years, and most people have gotten a kick out of how funny it is to watch someone stagger around like they’re drunk, or lie there knocked out before they open their eyes and jump up again. We’re learning better now, but there’s still a lot of complacency — especially with regard to men. Getting hit on the head, hitting others on the head, punching people, getting punched, getting knocked down and getting back up to go back in the fray is all part of the stereotypical American male growing-up experience, and a lot of folks think it’s just how you toughen ‘em up. The same is somewhat true for women, but not nearly as much. Still, that idea that you have to be “tough” and that you can just dismiss a brain injury and go back to what you were doing before, is common. And people think that things will just take care of themselves, or that we can “design” a new life on purpose, if we just try/think hard enough.
24. how can i slow my heart rate down during exercise – See above. And try taking slower breaths. It could be that you’re breathing too fast — hyperventilating.
25. warning sign photos – Shouldn’t be too hard to find here. I use them now and then.
26. anxiety and vagus nerve – I love my vagus nerve, and so should you. I’ve written a fair amount about the vagus nerve. I really need to write more…
27. pain is just weakness leaving the body – No, it’s not. See above.

So, that’s it for today, folks. Enjoy the last days of summer!

I’m not necessarily slower – I just have more to think about

Choices, choices…

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about concussion/tbi making you “dumber” – slower, etc. When I had my neuropsychological exam, it became painfully clear that my processing speed was slower than expected. And it really bummed me out for quite some time. Plus, once I was aware that this was happening, it seemed like I couldn’t do anything without being painfully aware that it was taking me a little longer to process things than I (and others) expected it to. For some reason, everybody just expected that I’d be able to respond immediately to their questions or comments or conversation starters. But it just wasn’t happening.

After thinking about this from a bunch of different angles, I had a bit of a revelation this morning. It was something I’ve thought about before (and maybe I’ve written about it before – I can’t remember), but this morning it really made a whole lot of sense:

It’s not that I’m necessarily slower or dumber than I “should” be — or than I used to be. The thing is, after my TBI(s), I became so much more sensitive to a lot of different stimuli, and my brain has to work harder to sort through a larger amount of input, than before. It’s like the injury/-ies put holes in the filters that are usually there, allowing in a whole lot more input and information — sensory, like light and sound and (sometimes) smells and touch/feeling — and all that has to be factored in. It’s like my brain has to work harder to shut those things out, and since concussion/TBI has a way of activating your sympathetic nervous system fight-flight activity, you’re even more alert to all the stimuli around you…. constantly scanning and checking things out and sensing for danger, where it may or may not exist.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who has this.Maybe someone else can confirm/affirm this for me?

Think about it – say you give someone a deck of cards to shuffle and sort. Then you give someone else two decks to shuffle and sort, while they’re having a conversation with someone and an important piece of news is playing on the t.v. behind them. If the two people race to get done with their shuffling and sorting, the person with the two decks of cards are is going to take longer — because they have more to sort through, in the first place. And they have these other distractions going on around them.

That’s what it’s like after concussion/TBI – so of course I’m going to seem “slower” than others — when in fact, my brain is actually working harder, and perhaps even more efficiently than others, because it has so damned much stuff to sort through.

I think this can also explain why folks after TBI have the same IQ level as before, only now their processing speed is slower. I’d like to challenge the idea that processing speed is actually slower, in fact. Because regular measures probably don’t factor in the distractions and added sensitivities that have to be filtered and processed. Heck, if you look at the sum total of all the activity, it could be that post-TBI, your processing speed actually increases — but your brain is so busy trying to sort things out and re-categorize them and figure out what it all means (all over again) and re-learn the old past familiar things… not to mention battle against the rising dismay that things “don’t work like they should” and the wondering “what the hell is wrong with me?!” … that the end result and net effect looks like you’re stupid and slow and not keeping up.

That’s my theory, anyway. Although it’s almost purely anecdotal, it’s consistent with my experience, so I’ll have to go with that.

It’s ironic, isn’t it, that we go through these things that actually make us stronger and more active, but people who don’t understand and don’t share our experience (including researchers and doctors and therapists and other certified experts), will label us as “weaker” and “less active” and “stupid”… all because they just don’t get it, and they can’t see why they should change their opinions.

I’m not sure what it will take to change this, but for the time being I feel pretty good in my own changing understanding, and it’s giving me some relief from that nagging sense of being stupid and slow and (excuse the expression) retarded.

Anyway, it’s a beautiful day, it’s Memorial Day — so, here’s a big THANK YOU to all who have served, and are serving, and to all who have paid the ultimate price out of love and service and duty. I probably wouldn’t be sitting on my back porch watching the dragonflies making their rounds this morning, if you didn’t do what you do. So, again, thank you.

But enough of the talk. It’s time to get into my day and enjoy myself with friends and family. Here’s hoping you can too.

Then and Now – TBI Issue Management

Almost year ago, I published a list of 84 ways TBI can make your life really interesting, which is a list of 84 different issues that can arise as a result of a traumatic brain injury. I pulled together the list from a number of different reputable sources — books, websites, papers — and sorted them by type, from behavioral to communication to mental to emotional, etc.

The list itself actually dates back to about 2008, when I put together a list of all the issues I’d been having that I needed to manage. I’ve been using this list for several years, now, to monitor and track the things that make my life more challenging, and it’s really helped a lot — sometimes, mainly because it just reminds me that I have these issues and I need to be mindful of them.

It’s tough to manage things that you can’t see, after all…

But with things in plain view, I was able to manage. At first, it was tough, but eventually I learned. It took a lot of work and a willingness to be honest about what was going on with me — like any self-improvement work, I suppose. Except in my case, instead of it being “all in my head/heart”, I had some underlying neurological issues that played into the whole picture.

In a way, having the underlying neurological issues was a relief. I had felt for the longest time (30+ years) like there was something wrong with ME, for how I behaved and the ways I handled the world around me. I thought I wasn’t trying hard enough. Or I was being lazy. Or stupid. Or I was deliberately sabotaging myself. As it turns out, I was dealing with neurological issues which in and of themselves weren’t terribly severe, but which combined to exacerbate each other to the point where I was practically disabled in some ways.

I had plenty of talent and plenty of smarts, but contrary to all appearances, I couldn’t seem to get my act together. I had told myself for years that I was “choosing” to not employ my talents fully, when in fact I was constantly undermined by distractability, fatigue, anxiety, constant restlessness, agitation, chronic pain, and sensory sensitivities (to light and sound) that derailed me in times when I needed to be at my best. I was on a constant roller coaster of up and down emotions, taking two steps forward, two steps sidewards, two steps back, three steps forward, and getting all turned around in the process. Anxiety, not intention, determined my life’s direction, and I can tell you, I was going nowhere fast.

Even in those times when I was feeling like I was getting somewhere, I sometimes got hurt again, and then I had the setback of yet another tbi to deal with.

All the while, there I was, thinking there was something wrong with ME… I was a loser, I was a waste of space, I was a charter member of underachiever’s anonymous. And that sense was probably just as debilitating as any of my neurological/physical issues.

I wasn’t doing myself any favors by being so down on myself.

But when I started learning about TBI and started tracking my issues in light of my neurological situation and background, things started to really come together. I was also amazingly fortunate to connect with a neuropsychologist who believed (as I did) that the problems I had were “fixable” and they’ve been working with me to help me think differently about myself and my abilities, and see my whole life, not only my tbi’s, as an opportunity to learn and grow.

Once I quit blaming myself and being ashamed of my issues, a lot of my troubles started to clear.

But it wasn’t until I took a close look at what was going on with me and got honest about the havoc it was wreaking in my life, that I was able to DO anything about it.

I could have gone on indefinitely, telling myself — and the world — that “That’s just the way I am – you got a problem with that?!” Being constantly defensive about my limitations and difficulties and pulling out all the stops to justify them and defend my “right” to be a screw-up. It’s how I’d been living for close to 40 years, so why stop now?

Well, watching everything you hold dear go to shit, and realizing that you’ve got no foundation (financial, professional, interpersonal) to support your life has a way of forcing you to get honest. That’s why I stopped all the B.S. in my head. Plus, I was really tired of feeling like crap all the time, constantly wondering why nothing ever worked out the way I wanted/expected it to.

Anyway, I guess the bottom line is, you can’t fix something if you don’t know it’s broken. And getting past the idea that it was ME that was broken, rather than how my brain was working, was an important part of restoring my daily and long-term functionality.

Speaking of functionality, I’ve got errands to run. Have a good day, everyone. Stay strong.