I have not been sleeping nearly enough. Now my clothes hurt me. My skin is very sensitive and it feels like  it’s being raked by a wire brush, when my clothes brush against my skin.

Complain, complain, complain. I’m wearing myself out with the complaining.

Work is going pretty well, and when I keep track of what I’m supposed to be doing, I am keeping up with the best of ’em. At least, I believe I am 😉

I’ve noticed an interesting phenomenon with how I fill in the gaps of my comprehension. Where I am missing details, like what someone’s reaction to me is, I tend to think the worst. They’re angry with me. I’ve messed up. They’re quiet because I’ve offended them and they are thinking about what to say back to me.

But it’s not always true. It rarely is, in fact.

I think this comes from a lot of past experiences of troubling interactions with people. When I was a kid, I seemed to get a lot of stuff wrong, and people used to get so mad at me. Of course, it always puzzled me. I never thought I was wrong when it was happening, but over the years, I gradually came to realize that I messed up a lot more than I thought I did.

In a way, it was kind of good that I was as clueless as I was. But in retrospect, I cringe.

Well, I can’t do much more cringing tonight. I’m dog-tired from dealing with my car conking out – battery died when I was at my neuropsych. And then having to call AAA (and renew my lapsed membership online before I called them) and figure out how to pay for the battery… Ugh. I can do without another day like this.

Oh well… I can’t worry about it. In another six months, I won’t even remember this, probably. I’ll have moved on.

My clothes hurt me, so I’m going to cut myself a break and take it easy tonight. I’ve earned it.

Author: brokenbrilliant

I am a long-term multiple (mild) Traumatic Brain Injury (mTBI or TBI) survivor who experienced assaults, falls, car accidents, sports-related injuries in the 1960s, '70s, '80s, and '90s. My last mild TBI was in 2004, but it was definitely the worst of the lot. I never received medical treatment for my injuries, some of which were sports injuries (and you have to get back in the game!), but I have been living very successfully with cognitive/behavioral (social, emotional, functional) symptoms and complications since I was a young kid. I’ve done it so well, in fact, that virtually nobody knows that I sustained those injuries… and the folks who do know, haven’t fully realized just how it’s impacted my life. It has impacted my life, however. In serious and debilitating ways. I’m coming out from behind the shields I’ve put up, in hopes of successfully addressing my own (invisible) challenges and helping others to see that sustaining a TBI is not the end of the world, and they can, in fact, live happy, fulfilled, productive lives in spite of it all.

2 thoughts on “Ouch”

  1. That’s why blogging is so useful, it’s like a diary that one can scroll back through and think to oneself… “Oh yes, …(that)… happened, didn’t it ?”.
    Sometimes when I’m at work I use my blog as an “aide de memoir” about mistakes I’ve made, or forgetfulnesses / confusions I’ve had. I don’t publish the posts, but they’re there for me to refer back to when I’m going for a meeting with the legal bods or the medics. And they save having to carry notepads around all the time, which only get lost anyway. 😉


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