And then they were gone.

Disappear – by Blixxa

No word from my old friend whom I emailed on Monday. Wouldn’t be the first time someone disappeared on me. Maybe it’s payback, for how I disappeared, 27 years ago.

Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. I have a full life, and I doubt I’ll even be able to add another social connection to my life. I’m maxed out – especially with my new job.

Learning new things and turning your life around takes a LOT of energy.

And needs a LOT of rest.

So, I’m not worrying about it. If I never hear from them again, that’s actually fine. I already got what I wanted — to tell the truth.

I’ve been thinking a great deal about what happens after a mild TBI / concussion. The biochemical cascade that takes place, when all the chemicals that should be inside the cells, get to the outside of the cells. The reaction our bodies have. And the reaction our spirits have.

Many, many times when I was concussed, I felt like I was super-human afterwards. Nothing could stop me. Even when I was running the wrong way down the soccer field and nearly scored against my own team, I still felt like I was invincible.

That, my friends, is what a “minor” head injury will do to you. There is nothing “minor” about it, when you get down to it… including the long-term effects.

And yet, nobody seems to talk about this much — how absolutely phenomenal it can feel to be recently concussed. Like you’ve suddenly got super-powers and cannot be stopped.

That feeling, and our love of it, our lust for it, is what drives so many repeat concussions, I believe. A lot of us chase that feeling and do things to make it happen, again and again.

We feel like a million bucks. Until we don’t. And then that super-person is gone-baby-gone.

That is a loss that really kills.