And it’s been one of the best things in my life – ever.
At the time, back in the “wee hours” of 2008, I was so confused, so anxious… and afraid. I couldn’t believe I had been injured as much as I had, in the course of my life, and nobody had ever noticed. Nobody had ever thought anything of it. I know I was good at covering things up — but was I really that good? Doubtful. Rather, people saw there was something “wrong” with me, and they attributed it to:
- poor character
- being young and “unformed”
- lack of proper training
- anything else you can think of that blames a person for how they’re behaving
The fact of the matter was, I’d been clunked in the head — a bunch of times. And those injuries, which were never properly recognized or treated (or even just factored in) shaped my life and personality and behavior in certain ways that made me look either like a flaming idiot, or just plain “trouble”.
Part of the problem was, I appeared to be pretty smart in certain ways. I could do some things really well — like memorize a whole sheet of vocabulary words in an hour’s time, and then not only test well on them, but also be able to use them in conversation… or be a great track team captain, motivating my teammates to do their best. But for some reason, under various circumstances (which could never be predicted by people who weren’t paying attention, anyway), I’d “fall apart”. Become a discipline problem. Become combative, resistant, defiant, and disruptive in class as well as group activities.
Looking back now, I can see how tired I was, so many times, and that fatigue flipped the switch on my issues. It was like flipping on the lights in a lecture hall — all of a sudden, my issues were lit up bright and glaring.
But of course, I was just being rebellious. Sinful. Willfully difficult. I was just being bad.
Now, I know better. And I’ve forgiven myself for so many things I did wrong when I was younger. The fights, the conflicts, the drug and alcohol abuse, the poor grades, the times I screwed up great opportunities during my youth and young adulthood, because I couldn’t put two ideas together.
Looking back over the years, I can see so many times I came up short — I didn’t live up to my abilities, or to others’ expectations. And I’ve been pretty hard on myself, all these years. And I need to keep forgiving myself, because it’s so easy to forget there was an actual reason I screwed up, when I “should” have done better. It’s a daily practice, this forgiveness business. Even to this day, I still have old habits of thinking about myself in pretty task-master-ish terms. And I need to keep practicing. Because it’s oh-so-easy to fall back into the training of my youth, and tell myself I’m just slacking or I’m taking the easy way out, or I’m being a total loser… when I’m really just in need of a good night’s sleep and a different way of tackling my problems.
I have come an incredibly long way, in these past 9 years. I’ve gotten a lot of help along the way… which is now pretty much gone, because my main supporter moved halfway across the country. But I’ve learned a tremendous amount from those years we worked together, and I am eternally grateful for their help. I’ve been seeing another neuropsychologist, since they left, but this new one is not nearly as experienced or insightful — or as patient and compassionate — as the other one was. I’m kind of on my own with this new one. But they serve a purpose, and you do what you can with what you have, so…
Anyway, since I’m now into my 10th year of active mTBI recovery, there are certain things I want to do, to commemorate the progress I’ve made. Like looking back at my past blog posts and elaborating on them. I’ve written a lot, in the past 9 years, and there’s still some food for thought there. I’d like to put that to good use.
So, I shall. And keep moving forward. Always. Onward.
It’s a new year — Happy New Year to everybody!
Let’s make it a good one.