It’s time to go

Long road ahead...

Oh, gawd, here we go… So, I’ve been experiencing what amounts to a pretty phenomenal TBI recovery, getting back a quality of life that has been slowly (and quickly) eroded by successive traumatic brain injuries over the years. I’ve come to a place in my life where I’m a lot happier and more settled with myself than I ever thought I’d be, and I have a better understanding of myself and my mission in life, than I’ve had in a long time. I also have more faith in myself and my abilities than I probably ever had before. Much of this is thanks to my neuropsych, who has stuck with me through some pretty crazy times, and who has been a steady and regular influence in my life on a weekly basis since 2010.

And now it’s time to go… To part ways with said neuropsych.

Now, there was a time, when I thought I’d never move on. And there was a time, when I never wanted to go back. Now, I’m at that place where I don’t feel strongly, one way or the other. Perhaps more importantly, now my neuropsych is starting to annoy me.

I know they mean well. They have my best interests at heart. I do believe that. But the way they talk, with their deliberate, careful diction, and their thoughtful pauses, is getting on my nerves. I feel like they’re going over the same things again and again and again, and I don’t know what to say, anymore, that will be different from what I said last week.

Yes, it’s time to move on.

I suppose it happens to us all. We go through these stages of growth, healing, discovery, adventure, calamity, cluelessness, hope, despair… you name it. But being the living, growing beings we are, we eventually pass out of that stage and move on to the next.

It worried me, when I first thought seriously about it, this past week. But the more I think about it, the more I think — yes, it’s time to go. Time to get on with my life, leap out of the nest and see where my wings can take me. If they take me to the ground, then I figure out what to do next. But I figure it out, not my neuropsych. And I figure it out for me.

Anyway, it’s late. I’m tired. I’ve worn myself out, reading about Steve Jobs and what a mixed bag of a personality he was.

Aren’t we all…

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.

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