Fantastic night last night

Beautiful moonlight

What a beautiful night it was, last night. The moon was full and casting bring shadows across a quiet earth… beneath a starry sky. On nights like last night, I’m glad I live in the country – I have lived in cities about half my life, and while there is much beauty to be seen there, too, there’s nothing like a full moon night in the silent wintertime.

And it isn’t even officially winter, yet.

I didn’t get to bed as early as I was hoping to. I had a late night at work, and I only finished up a little after 10, so small wonder it took me a few hours to wind down. I actually did well, under the circumstances, and I got in bed a little before midnight. I was up a little after 6 a.m., so I got about six hours of sleep, which could be better. But I’m working from home today, so I can take a quick nap later on.

I’m still feeling the burn from the weekend’s work, and I’m taking it easy with the early-morning exercise. I just need to keep moving today, to keep from getting locked up. I actually have a good mix of things I need to do, including a few out-of-the-house errands.

So, things are good today. Not perfect, but still working out.

I’ve got a nice block of free time coming up this coming weekend. My spouse is going to be away working pretty much all weekend, so I have uninterrupted time to focus on some projects I’ve had going. I’ve needed to do a number of things, but it’s been slower going than I expected. Everything seems to take sooooo loooooonnnnnggggg with me, at times — much longer than I plan and anticipate. So, that kind of takes a bite out of my self-confidence. And I feel like an idiot – even more than usual.

I know I bulk up on a lot of things to do — I do that on purpose to put the pressure on, because I work better under pressure. But it also sets me up for failure, just about every day. So it’s a balance. I guess the thing I need to do is really take the time to savor the times when I get things done, and get them done right. I tend to bounce from one activity to the next, just taking my successes and little victories in stride, rather than really stopping to enjoy them.

It will be good to have the time to myself, this weekend. It will give me time to think. Or not think. I’ve been dogged by a sense that I’m not nearly as sharp as I wish I were, and I have to struggle with a lot more things than I would like to. Nobody likes to struggle with things, I’m sure, but it seems like some things should be a lot simpler than they are. It’s so convoluted. I think I have things figured out, then I find out I don’t. And I have to start from scratch again.

It can be exhausting. The daily discovery that I didn’t get it right… again. Or that I was completely wrong in my thinking… and I have to try again. Can’t I just get it right the first time… just once?

Well, anyway. I’m sure there are lots of people out there who feel this way. I just get depressed when I think about it. So, my solution is to not think about it — just keep going. And try to get plenty of rest in the meantime, so I don’t wear myself out with all my mental concern.

Maybe that’s the key for me, to stay happy and healthy and productive — not think so much about things, and use the energy I have to keep trying, keep refining, keep growing. I can’t just sit and noodle about things all day — that in itself is depressing. I have to use my energy — the anxiety, the sadness, the frustration, the anger — as a source of fuel for my life. Keep going, keep growing, keep moving. And not stop to think about what it means in the grand scheme of things, or let it take on qualities that make it seem like it’s depression.

Now that I think about it, this seems to be the key for me — it’s what works best for me, and it’s what has made it possible for me to function at my best for so long: using the energy I have for positive, productive activities, rather than for negative ones. I mean, seriously — I have so much frustration and anxiety and anger and nervousness, if I don’t do something productive with it, it all just eats me alive. And that’s no good.

Last night, before I stopped in to get food for dinner, I sat in the parking lot of the grocery store and started to cry. All the frustrations of the day, the energy, the conflict, the upheaval that’s going on now (with yet another re-org on the horizon) was getting to me. Big time. And I just couldn’t take it anymore.  I started to feel really sorry for myself, becoming angry at my spouse, my family, my employer, my co-workers, my neuropsych, my bank, and myself… and feeling like the whole world was against me, and there was no way I was going to dig myself out of the abyss of money troubles and job troubles and pain that have dogged me for over 45 years.

It has never, ever been easy for me, and nobody seems to really appreciate just what I have to go through each day. Nobody can see my issues, most people don’t seem to believe I actually have them. And if I told anyone about what’s really going on with me, they’d probably be shocked and dismayed.

And last night, it all just welled up and got the best of me. I couldn’t see past my immediate troubles — even though things are really turning around for me — and all I knew was trouble, struggle, and pain.

This morning, I can’t say that that’s changed. People are still clueless about my situation — but that’s how I want it to be. I don’t want people to pity me, to feel sorry for me, or give me special consideration because of what I’m experiencing. I need to be fully functional, regardless, and I need to just get on with my life. Even if it hurts. Even if I’m foggy and out of it. Even if I feel like I’m going to fall over, or the lights are too bright or the noises are too loud. I need to keep moving, even if I’m tired. I can’t live any other way. There’s just no point. I need to do constructive things with my life. I need to be active, even if I am in pain and hurts like hell just to stand up and walk across the room.

I’m not sure my life is worth living, if I can’t do the kinds of things I feel compelled to do. That’s what makes me who I am, and if I’m not myself, then who the hell am I? And what the hell is the point?

Well, anyway, enough navel-gazing. It’s time to get on with my day and use some of this energy for something productive.

Onward.

 

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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.