Still more cleanup

Have brush, will travel

Today was painting day. I have had some leaks from my roof, and all the upstairs rooms have leak stains on them. Some worse than others. My spouse’s bedroom is the worst (we have had separate rooms for a number of years now, which lets us both sleep without being interrupted). They have been “camped out” on the living room couch for over a week, till things dry out enough for me to paint — which is this weekend.

I’m really hoping this works. The roof is going to need some patching soon, but we don’t have the money to do it just yet. The new (to us) car wiped out our savings, so it’s going to be a number of months before we’re in a position to do anything more.  At least I have a job. That’s something.

It’s a lot, actually.

I really need to do my taxes this weekend. I should be getting at least some refund. That will be something.

And none too soon. There are a number of things that need to be done with the house that are directly related to me being sidelined for nearly ten years after my TBI in 2004. We moved into the house in 2002, and I fell two years later, really screwing up my head — and whole life. I had things really well planned out, before my fall — I had shares of stock in the company where I worked, and they were maturing at a rate that would have let me pay off the house, when all was said and done. I was on track to collect my money in 2006, and then either wipe out the mortgage or pay down a big chunk of it, refinance at a much more attractive rate, and then invest the balance — or do whatever the hell I wanted to do. Travel. See the world. Take a break from the rat race.

Whatever I wanted to do.

But then I fell. And all that went away. It would have been nice if I’d had some sort of insurance to cover me. Actually, I did. But I was so impaired and screwed up, I didn’t understand what was going on with me enough to ask for help. And by the time I figured everything out, the damage was done.

And my good job was gone, my marriage was on the rocks, my shares were evaporated, much of my money was gone, and I was sh*t outa luck.

So it goes with TBI. Nobody understands it, least of all the person who sustained one. And everyone just stands around, scratching their heads, wondering why the hell things are so screwed up. It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense.

Well, anyway, I’m back on track now. Money’s an issue, but what else is new? At least I have my job and an income, and I still have my house and my marriage. That’s a lot. I’m working through all the issues I have had to stare down over the years — more or less on my own, thanks to nobody (and I mean nobody) understanding the degree to which I was struggling in silence. Even my neuropsych. Especially my neuropsych, who was “blinded by science” and what they thought were my real test scores.

Oh, well. So it goes. No one is immune, really, when a person can’t articulate effectively what’s really, truly going on with them. The only real fault I can find, is that they don’t listen very well. They think they have things all figured out. Huh.

In a way, though, it’s been fine, because I’m not sure I really wanted someone to be overly involved with me. I’ve been pretty much fine working through things on my own, with someone to check in with on a regular basis. I knew they were off track a bunch of times, but I didn’t say anything, partly because I didn’t want to get into it, I didn’t feel like my thoughts would be well organized enough to make any sense, and because I would just get really bent out of shape, when I tried to sort things out with them.

And they were so convinced that I just had the wrong philosophy about my state of mind/brain…

I didn’t feel like letting them down.

Anyway, for the ways that they’ve helped me, it’s been good. They just haven’t helped me quite the way they think they have.

Oh, well. Wouldn’t be the first time someone was completely wrong about me.

Anyway, it’s been a long day. The painting took 3x as long as I expected, and it wiped me out. Tomorrow I will have plenty of time by myself, because my spouse is meeting up with some friends for a while tomorrow afternoon. I’m really looking forward to the time alone. I have a lot to do — plus, another coat of paint to put on the ceiling — so it will be good to have the place to myself.

And have some room to think…. especially about the whole Sense-of-Self issue. It’s been on my mind, and I’ve got some more ideas brewing… especially now that I’m coming out of my functional fog and dealing with all these house issues. It’s been a long time since I felt like myself with regard to my domestic responsibilities. It’s coming back now, and that feels pretty good.


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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