Beyond the Invisible – TBI Video for and about Military Veterans

I just learned about a 4-part series about TBI from the Brain Injury Association of NY Military Veterans Project. Check it out – it’s great!

Beyond the Invisible

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

TBI Symptoms – Common Cognitive Dysfunction

I’m really enjoying reading Neuropsychological Rehabilitation by George Prigatano, which I recently got from the library. It may sound strange, but I’m into it.

On pp 4-5, under Common Cognitive Dysfunctions and Their Psychosocial Outcomes, the following issues/disorders are listed (in slightly paraphrased form, so I don’t provoke the gods of intellectual property):

Attention/Concentration Disorders:

  • Having trouble sustaining attention
  • Getting fatigued easily
  • Impairment of selective scanning and attention
  • Poor ability to shift attention back and forth — so you “get lost” a lot in group conversations

Problems with Initiation and Planning of Goal-Oriented Activities

  • Abstract attitude impairment: you frequently miss the point of what’s being considered and take information literally, instead of symbolically
  • Problems with taking action impulsively before it’s required, or keeping going after you should stop taking a certain action
  • Slow initiation time
  • Getting confused about where to start with problem-solving, and therefore ending up with problem-solving strategies that aren’t very realistic
  • Trouble ordering/sequencing info
  • Trouble knowing where, when, and/or how to ask for help
  • Difficulty learning from your mistakes — and your successes

Judgment and Perception Problems

  • Misinterpreting the intentions and/or actions of others
  • Getting confused when presented with a bunch of information at the same time
  • Having a tendency to be socially inappropriate when talking to people
  • Being unrealistic when appraising yourself and your strengths and weaknesses after head injury

Learning and Memory Disorders

  • Lousy rote learning
  • Trouble organizing/processing information that you really need to remember — especially when related to work or academic activities
  • Memory deficits that are material-specific (for example, having trouble with non-verbal vs. verbal information, and vice versa)
  • Having memory problems that are below your IQ level

Speed of Information Processing Disorders

  • Reeeeeaaaaallllllyyyyy   ssssslllloooooowwwww  rrrreeeeeeaaaaaccccttttttiiiiiioooooonnnnnnnnn   tttttttiiiiiimmmmmmeeeee (that is, really show reaction time)
  • Talking, writing, and doing mechanical tasks are slowed down

Communication Disorders

  • Trouble remembering words
  • Trouble finding the right words
  • Going off on tangents when talking and thinking
  • Being talkative
  • Using peculiar phrases and words
  • Uninhibited word choice (e.g. four-letter words) in conversation

According to Prigatano and Fordyce, “these disturbances exist in most, if not all, traumatically brain-injured young adults.”

I know they certainly exist with me. And while reading this list is a bit disconcerting, it’s also very comforting to know I’m not alone. And it explains a whole lot.

In the following pages after the list, Prigatano and Fordyce go into brief descriptions of the different types of disorders and talk about how they still have a long way to go before adequate rehab techniques are developed for them. This book is dated 1986, so I am hoping this has changed in the past 23 years, but you never know.

In any case, even if the book is older, it still has valuable information. And if I’m thinking about the timeframes correctly, it was written before the rush to create and market TBI rehab programs picked up steam. So it’s more likely (at least in my estimation) to have unbiased info.

Unsullied, as it were, by its own success.

Or somesuch.

Or maybe it’s my misinterpretation of the actions and/or intentions of others that’s getting me into trouble 😉

Anyway, I’m still reading…  It’s taken me several days to get through 7 pages. I read through them, then back up and re-read… then back up again and re-read… I think I’ve got more of it in my head, now. At least I have it written down 😉

My books have arrived from the library!

I’m really stoked. I finally managed to find a library copy of George Prigatano’s Neuropsychological Rehabilitation After Brain Injury and Prigatano & Schacter’s Awareness of Deficit After Brain Injury.

I’m sure it sounds odd for me to be so excited about getting them from the library, but these are books I’ve been wanting to read for some time. I first came across George Prigatano a little over a year ago, when I was researching brain injury and wondering why in heaven’s name I had never realized there was something “up” with me. I mean, I had a lot of problems when I was a kid and throughout my adulthood. Problems with memory, problems with mood issues, problems with keeping track of stuff, problems with temper, problems with freaking out over every little thing, problems with money management… I get tired just thinking about it all.

I should have realized a long time ago, that all those problems couldn’t possibly have been due to everyone/everything else. Something had to be “up” with me. But no… my broken brain was convinced it was everybody else, not me, that had the problem(s).

Anyway, now I’ve got the books on loan for three weeks — and the past-due fees are high, so I’d better get reading. I’m sure it’s considered a little “blasphemous” and presumptuous for me to be reading up on cognitive rehabilitation and advanced topics that are supposed to be beyond this layman’s brain, but I don’t really care what other people have to say about it. I have access to the information, and even if I don’t understand everything, at least I’m going to check it out.

My wrists are doing a little better. I’ve worked almost 30 hours in the last 2 days, much of that time spent typing, so I still have more resting I need to do. But that will come. Right now, I want to celebrate.

Celebrate life. Celebrate recovery. Celebrate cognitive rehabilitation. I saw my “neuroshrink” today, and we actually had a really good session. I was talking about different events of my past, and I actually got a laugh out of them. A good, hearty, spontaneous laugh, too. In the past, they’ve been kind of reserved and distant, like they were checking me out… not sure if they were going to keep working with me. But today was a good session.

They told me, in the course of our 50 minutes, that considering everything that’s happened to me, my life is a great triumph, not a tragedy. And yes, it’s true! My life is a tremendous triumph, and I’m feeling really grateful tonight that I’ve been able to do as well as I have.

How I’ve been able to do this well — bounce back from multiple mild tbi’s, including sports concussions and falls and assaults and car accidents, and build a life that’s full of activity and love and productivity and, well, happiness… I’m still trying to figure it out.

But if I had to chalk it up to anything, I’d say it’s just stick-to-it-ive-ness. Never giving up. Being tenacious. Stubborn. Hard-headed in the right ways. Trying and trying and trying some more. And never settling for less than I want — and deserve.

Just keeping going… in some ways, that’s the best rehabilitation of all. None of the other approaches actually work that well over the long term, if you don’t have this as the foundation.

But still, tenacity aside, it’ll be good to check out these books. It’ll be good to have some input that comes from outside my own head and immediate experience.

I’m also looking forward to reading more writing from George Prigatano. I have been a huge fan of his for quite some time, and what I’ve read from him I’ve really enjoyed. It might sound odd to talk that way about a neurologist, but everybody’s partial to something. Some folks are into Japanese art, some are into road bikes, some are into Turkish ceramics, some are into Dice-K, some are into the Cavs. I’m into neuroscience. Particularly cognitive rehabilitation after brain injury, and all the fascinating aspects of life that go with it.

And I do mean “fascinating”. The brain really is the final frontier, and despite the fact that everyone has one and we all love to talk about ourselves, precious few of us — scientists and doctors, included — seem inclined to talk about our brains and the way they impact our lives. It’s as though there’s this huge curtain drawn between our white/gray matter and the rest of us… a kind of holy-of-holies veil that keeps us from approaching the Ineffable Massiveness of what sits atop our shoulders and between our ears. I can’t account for the reticence, in general. It’s like everyone is running around talking about everything except their brains… like we’re trying to keep our minds off it.

Or maybe it’s just so close to home that it makes people waaaaay too nervous to approach, and anyway, we’re taught that unless we have degrees and qualifications, who are we to discuss such weighty matters? It puzzles me. We all have brains. We all love to obsess about ourselves and our human conditions. Yet we’ll invest countless hours in dissecting the life choices of Octomom, while remaining oblivious to the Real Drama that takes place inside our skulls, each moment of every day.

I can’t account for it. But it’s getting late, I need to rest, and there will be more time tomorrow to ponder these imponderables. And read the words of  George Prigatano.

When TBI help is not helping

I’ve been thinking a lot, lately, about how I never got any diagnosis, rehab or therapy help for my MTBI’s (until the past year or so), and how that has affected my life. I’ve been seeing a therapist who is a neuropsychologist, as well as a diagnostic neuropsychologist who has helped me understand a great deal more about how my TBIs have affected not only my brain by the rest of my life, as well. And it’s great to be getting this help — and to be able to talk to friends and family members about my TBIs in ways that are helpful and actually informed.

But I have to wonder if maybe one of the reasons I’ve been able to function as well as I have (in certain ways) is because I’ve gotten next to no “TBI help” from people in my life. Nobody ever recognized (as far as I could tell) that being knocked out, falling down stairs, and/or being hit on the head a bunch of times, could have as big an impact on my cognitive and behavioral expressions as it did. Nobody ever approached me as someone with special needs who needed special attention, and whose needs should be accommodated.

To be clear, I had a lot of problems when I was a kid. The falls and sports concussions and the attack that knocked me out when I was eight appear to have skewed my behavior to the extreme, and I was pretty tough to handle at times. But all through my childhood, difficult as it was, I was never cognizant of having “problems”. I thought it was everyone else who had the problems, not me. I didn’t perceive myself as being different — in part because my parents never treated me like I was different, just difficult… in part because I think my perception was so anosognosic (I had no clue that I had no clue what was going on) that I couldn’t self-assess and self-regulate at all.

Granted, it’s no fun growing up being told that you’re lazy and a bad seed and that you’re just not trying hard enough.  It’s no fun having all the authority figures in your life yell at you, make fun of you, chastise you in public, discipline you, and generally hound you to do things you have a really hard time doing (if you can do them at all). But all the messages from my childhood that I internalized that took a toll on my self-esteem, as an adult, I can nowadays reason my way past them and reverse their impact simply by understanding that they just weren’t true.

Now, if I had grown up with the belief that I was damaged, broken, deficient… and that there was nothing to be done about it, other than compensate and make concessions and get special treatment from the powers that be, I think that might have taken an even greater toll on me. Because it would have been true. Irrefutable. Definitive. Sort of. I could totally see myself falling into this state of resignation over my broken brain and just never having any hope of building a real life for myself. I might have given up and become even more marginal than I was — not because the rest of the world didn’t understand me and my mind was having trouble wrapping itself around its difficulties, but because my spirit would have probably been broken, and I would have ushered myself to the margins and just been glad for what little I could get from life… hiding in the corner and sneaking out when no one was looking to gather crumbs that fell off the proverbial table.

I think, too, never having an explanation for why everything was so damned difficult for me all the time, actually helped me. It didn’t give me a reason to quit trying. All around me, throughout my life, people with expectations were giving up on me. Parents. Teachers. Grandparents. Aunts and uncles. Neighbors. Cousins. Just about anyone who had expectations of me had them dashed in short order. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t seem to get it right. But I didn’t have a reason to stop trying. I was never told, “You’ve been injured — permanently — so why bother?” I was never “reassured” that it was okay to fail. I was encouraged to go easy by some people who lost faith in me, but I never gave up on myself, and I never lost faith that somehow, some way, I would figure out how to get done what I set out to do.

I just wasn’t giving up. I didn’t have any tools given to me, that I can recall, other than try-try-again, and I had to come up with a lot of systems of my own, but I did try-try-again and I did come up with systems. And somehow, some way, I did manage to build a pretty impressive life — and resume — in the process.  It’s been a long, tough row to hoe, and I’ve been knocked down more often than I care to think about, without people offering me a hand up. But you know what? I can bounce. That’s what I do. I bounce. I’m like one of those Weebles. I wobble, but I don’t fall down — permanently. Sure, my self-esteem is for crap, a lot of times, and I automatically disqualify myself from activities I messed up as a kid, which I could probably do now that I’m grown. But I’ve figured out how to keep moving, keep progressing, keep advancing… even in the total, utter absence of self-esteeem.

Surprisingly (compared to what I hear said all the time), you don’t actually require ironclad self-esteem to get stuff done in the world. In some ways, having severe self-doubts and low self-regard can keep you honest and working hard.

Now, I would imagine that TBI folks who receive formal rehab and are given tools to use to get by in life may have a more pronounced sense of ability because they receive guidance and training and rehab therapy that is meant to reassure them that they can do what they set out to do, and is designed to return them to functionality. And when they bump up against the upper limits of their capabilities, it may come as a surprise. I think that would be even more upsetting for me than not realizing you have problems, and encountering problems, time after time. I think that would eventually take a huge toll on my spirit. I would think, I’ve been shown strategies and given tools. Why aren’t they working? What’s wrong with me? Am I really that messed up? Why am I not getting better?

I wouldn’t know exactly what it’s like, because I’ve never had real rehab or occupational/speech therapy. But if I were getting rehab therapy, I would probably be inclined to push the envelope of my abilities, and I’d probably fall flat or run out of steam over and over and over again — and be really pissed off that things got mucked up. I should be rehabbed, right? That’s just me. I don’t know if others experience that, as well, but knowing myself and my tendencies, that’s probably where I’d be.

Another thing that I think might happen with people who get rehab and whose friends and families know about their head injury, is that they get moral support and encouragement from their various relationships, but when they muck up, they get that subtle (and often unarticulated) message that it’s okay for them to be less functional than they’d like to be, ’cause they’re brain-injured. So, they shouldn’t feel so bad about it. And maybe they shouldn’t try so hard… maybe they should just accept themselves as they are and settle into the kind of life that has been given them, rather than the kind of life they want to create.

I notice that happening in my immediate circle, where people close to me who know about my head injuries are trying to be loving and gentle, but they end up.. well, “emasculating” me in the process of my “journey towards wholeness”. I mean, it’s all very well and good for them to care enough about me to reassure me that I’m still a good person who has value, but it’s not helpful for me for them to downplay the importance of trying to do my best. It’s not helpful for me to have expectations lowered, and accept failure as a given. I’m still a work in progress, and there’s no telling how far I can go in life, given the right tools, the right approach, the right form, the right level of effort. But all too often, my circle of supportive friends and family seem to settle for accepting me as I am, which also includes accepting my screw-ups as being okay.

I wish they wouldn’t do that. I’ve got to have a talk with them about what I would like them to do.

For me, so much of doing well in life is not so much about innate ability, as it is about spirit and determination to develop what ability I have into something more. I think that’s something people lose sight of — especially later in life when full-grown adults (like me — I’ve got a birthday coming up, and I’m getting closer to 50 than 40 — when did that happen?) — are starting to wind down a lot of their activities and/or they’re accustomed to working with a set of abilities that they’ve honed over the years, but haven’t really worked at keeping up. And they figure they can just draw on what they’ve accumulated in the past.

For me, no matter how old I am or how much older I’m getting (and I’m damned lucky to be getting older, lest I forget how many close calls I’ve had in the past), I am not in a position where I can just slack off and accept things for what they are. If the rest of the world wants to retire and fade away, I’m not going to stop them. If the rest of my peers are going to quit improving and honing their abilities and making as much as they can of what talents and interests they have, I’m not going to stand in their way. But for me, I have to keep moving, keep improving, keep at it. And I have to not take any of my “innate” abilities for granted.

Doing that is inviting disaster.

That being said, I really think people need to be reminded that none of us has any guarantees in life, and freedom is never free. It’s entirely up to us, what we choose to do with our talents and interests and abilities, as well as our injuries and setbacks. Just because you have experienced an injury does not mean you’re any less able to improve than anyone else. Or that you are entitled to work any less hard. If anything, you have to work harder — but remember, that hard work can really pay off. No, there are no guarantees, and you may end up expending a lot of effort for what seems like a relatively small pay-off, but if you take delight in the discipline of the work itself, and you get something out of just having at it with all your might, then the outcome — while important — does not become the be-all-to-end-all.

And the work itself becomes its own reward… As well as all the perks you get from building your character and inner strength while working your everloving ass off.

But it’s still work. And to do your best, you have to keep your spirits up. And to keep your spirits up, you need to not be constantly reminded that you’re less-than (’cause the doctor said so), or that you’re disabled (because the insurance company said so), or that you’re any less deserving of your place at the table in life. You need pep talks and coaxing of all kinds — gentle as well as matter-of-fact. You need supporters who support the person you can become, not just the person you appear to be at the moment. You need backers who are realistic and optimistic at the same time — not out of some pie-in-the-sky Pollyanna BS, but because they know for a fact that the human experience is a deep, deep mystery full of ups and downs and twists and turns and wrinkles and Burmese tiger traps, but what good is life, if you’re just going to sit on the sidelines and cry boo-hoo?

So, it’s hard. This is news?

Okay, okay… I understand the necessity of grasping limitations, but at some point, if you’re going to have a life, you have to grasp all the harder at the things you have going for you, the things that make you a viable human being, your positive qualities and strengths that enable you to see past your limitations… and even turn them around in your favor. No, I’m not really that pleased that I’m at an age when I “should” be able to settle into a comfortable routine and rest on laurels I started growing 25 years ago. No, I’m not thrilled that when my peers are being promoted into higher and higher positions and paying off their mortgages and starting to have grandchildren, I’m still struggling with the basics, like remembering whether or not I’ve shampooed my hair this morning. I’m not at all giddy about the prospect of having to keep lists of really simple crap I have to do for the rest of my born days, in order to get anything done. I would like to be able to kick back and enjoy myself after all these long, arduous years.

But y’know what? That’s not going to happen. Not if I want to have any kind of a life. And it does me no good to sit around boo-hoo’ing about it.

So, what’s the story I want to tell myself today about my life, to get me in gear and make peace with the hand(s) I’ve been dealt? I think about my ancestors, some of the first pioneers who were “sodbusters” in the Great Plains several generations ago. Okay, I don’t agree with them displacing the Native tribes on that land or tearing up the prairie grass that kept the topsoil from blowing away and ending up in the Mississippi, but there’s a quality to their experience and their characters that I need to access for my own purposes.

I come from pioneering stock. The hunger for the frontier is in my bones. My great-great grandparents didn’t cry and moan about having to trek to the outhouse in -40 degree weather and thigh-deep snow to relieve themselves, and they didn’t whine about having to clean up with rough corncobs and Sears catalogs. That’s just how it was. It was the price they paid for the chance to live on the frontier and make their mark and be free to do as they pleased.

They didn’t fuss and fret about tending to wounds without a doctor nearby. They didn’t wallow in self-pity when the grasshoppers devoured their whole harvest. They didn’t freak out when life didn’t work out the way they wanted. They buckled down and did something about it. Or they accepted what was, and they worked at dealing better with it all next time.

In this age of junk food, convenience stores, cheap furniture, easy access to worlds of information, trained professionals whose services are paid for by insurance, and more and more tools to figure out how to live your life, it can be all too easy to forget the element of struggle that life can bring with it. And the harsh reminders can be hard to take. But in the end, life lived thoroughly is often a tough, tough thing to handle, and not everyone is up to the job of urging us onto the high, perilous road that leads to True Success.

Whether they’re professionally trained or in our innermost intimate circles, the people who are trying to help us  might be doing us the biggest favor by not letting us fail gracefully, by not reminding us that we’re diminished, by not accepting our shortcomings as a matter of fact. It might be hard for them to be hard on us, and it might be hard for us to hear what they have to say, but sometimes you just have to bite down on that piece of rawhide, take a long slug of whiskey, and do your best to hold still while your buddy digs that piece of lead out of your arm, cleans it with that stinging sour mash, and ties it up so you can both ride on.

Good TBI help shouldn’t be this hard to find

Update: Give Back Orlando is back! But the post below addresses a larger issue which remains problematic.

June 6, 2009 – Give Back Orlando’s Site is Gone

At least, when I go to, I get the following message:

Directory Listing Denied

This Virtual Directory does not allow contents to be listed.

The message shows up on the other pages of theirs I’ve bookmarked. And I’m crestfallen. Because I really really wanted to have them as a regular resource. And now they’re gone.

Any of these could have happened:

  • they got so much traffic (from bots or from real people) that their server complained and went down and the person in charge hasn’t noticed yet and rebooted
  • they attracted attention from people who didn’t like what they had to say, who made them take it all down
  • they attracted attention from people who had ownership and copyright of some of the content there, who made them take the site down
  • they started getting all sorts of questions and comments and flood of info requests from outsiders that it got to be an overwhelming PITA
  • the folks who belong to the group didn’t want the rest of the world privy to their stuff, so they had someone hide it from outsiders
  • they aren’t in the assistance business beyond Orlando, and they got too much outsider input/feedback for the site to make any sense, or
  • some other thing we’ll never know about.

Whatever the reasons, it’s a pity that the site is gone. I’m still using the material, and I do find it helpful (so far). But it’s a shame that I can’t get to them anymore.

This disappearance is really emblematic/symptomatic of a lot of the head injury help resources I’ve seen around – they start out strong, then they get overwhelmed/-ing, and their work is just not sustainable. Either they get too big too quickly, or they don’t plan for expansion, or they just don’t have the bandwidth for the mounting tasks, or they are using tools that make the job harder than it has to be (like starting a whole website with rich media and interactivity and snazzy design, instead of a humble blog) … or, it turns out to be a very different effort, in the long run, than they envisioned it at the start.

I see this all the time with TBI blogs. No judgment on TBI bloggers, to be sure. Heck, it happened to me, when I first started this blog. If you look at my posting history, you see a flurry of activity for the first month or so, then silence for nearly a year, before the motivation started kicking in again.

It’s wild, doing the TBI blogging. You start out all fired up and wanting to make a difference in the world by sharing your amazing story, then you get hammered with all this info overload — from within and without. Not only do you get completely swamped by the many varieties of information out there and trying to parse it all out and make sense of it all, but you also get overwhelmed by all this internal self-realization that comes up, and you realize more and more how less and less capable you are in respects you once thought were ironclad, and you start to wonder if maybe you’ve revealed too much about yourself too soon and maybe that might prevent you from finding and keeping a job… and/or friends… and/or your hard-won position in society… and you have to drop back to find out where you really stand. You have to figure out who your audience really is, and why you want to talk to them in the first place.

After soul-searching and plumbing the depths of your experience, you end up either totally fed up and just wanting to quit … or… committed and motivated and eager to just move forward, even if it’s not perfect, even if you don’t have all the answers, even if it means that you’re going to have to make it a huge priority in your life and bump it to the top of your to-do list, each and every day, sometimes at the expense of other things that need to be done but will just have to wait.

A lot of people never get to that committed point. I suspect it’s because they get into it too soon. A lot of TBI survivors, from what I’ve heard, have a tendency to over-reach in the first months of their recoveries, and take on things that they don’t yet realize they cannot do. That happened to me, after my last TBI — I was taking on way too much, but at the same time, I was getting next to nothing done. I thought I was moving and shaking, but I was spinning my wheels in place, and it took losing several jobs and a lot of money to get me to pay attention to what was going on with me… and that was without the benefit of any formal rehab.

I would imagine that people who get formal rehab may consider themselves capable in different ways — having been shown tools and been given training, they may overestimate their autonomous capabilities… and end up either flaming out or getting into jams that are demoralizing and/or embarrassing and are in any case real disincentives to keep going.

It’s always unfortunate when this dropping out happens, but I think it goes with the territory of TBI. Especially MTBI, which is one of those pesky hidden disabilities that can depress the living hell out of you, if you dwell on it too much. If the focus of your online work is to educate people about the kinds of problems that accompany mild traumatic brain injury and you want to talk about solutions, it can be mighty difficult, because there are so many confusing problems to talk about…  and MTBI makes finding workable solutions to sticky problems difficult, because in order to figure out solutions, you have to know what the problem is, and your mildly TBI’ed brain isn’t always up to that task — and when it thinks it is, sometimes it’s not.

And then there’s the existential angst… If you’ve got an injured (okay, let’s be honest, damaged) brain, what right do you have to talk about anything? Especially with any level of expertise? Isn’t one of the requirements of expertise and authority, having a fully functional brain? Who are you to talk about it? Aren’t you a patient, after all? A victim? A survivor? Someone who is at a disadvantage, cognitively, who can’t even get through the day, sometimes, without making a mess of everything? Who are you to talk about TBI? Shouldn’t that be left to the experts?

But the experts are either few and far between, or they are otherwise occupied — especially with TBI, where the moderate and severe forms are a lot more interesting and dramatic than the “mild” kind, and they can get actual numbers and data on the impacts and effects. So, unless you talk about your (M)TBI, who’s going to? Who’s going to speak to the millions of people out there who suffer supposedly mild injuries to their brains, but find themselves increasingly incapacitated through the course of their lives and are so utterly, totally alone in a world that is far more interested in money-making injuries that render quantifiable data? Who’s going to speak to them? You?

So, there’s the quandary and conundrum. You want to help. And you want to share. But the more you try to share, the more keenly aware you are of your limitations and difficulties, and if you dwell on them too deeply (even if for the sake of helping others see that they’re not alone), you can end up in this TBI vortex of criticsm and self-doubt and self-assessment that goes nowhere, because in the process of examining yourself with a fine-tooth comb, you’re seriously wearing yourself out and making yourself even less cognitively viable.

So, the downward cycle continues. And some people never pull out of it. Just check online. Inactive TBI blogs abound. And now you know (part of the reason) why.

That being said, I’m collecting links to information from trusted sources which are funded and organized and whose purpose is to educate the outside world. I’m going to start with the Brain Injury Associations of different states. I’ll start at Alabama and end up at Wyoming, to make it easy on myself.

Because good help for TBI shouldn’t be this hard to find.

So, I have to work… harder

I’m doing myself a favor, today, and doing some job-related work. I am usually working on something or another, and today (while I do other things), I’m running some programs on my work computer, so I have less to do tomorrow. And I don’t feel so far behind.

I have been falling behind at work. I don’t like it, and it’s not making me happy. So, I’m doing something about it. Ironically, what I’m doing is the exact opposite of what others are encouraging me to do — take it easy, don’t do too much, take time off for myself, etc. They don’t want me to get too fatigued. They don’t want me to get in over my head. And they certainly don’t want me to work if I’m not getting paid to do it.

The thing is, not working is worse for me than working. Because I’m feeling the pressure of unfinished work, and it’s messing with my head. And I also hate being so far behind. It’s actually harder for me, if I don’t do the work in advance of the week.

Also — and this is key — because I need to take more frequent breaks, and because I tend to get turned around, I can’t really do the old 9-to-5 work schedule of yore. It’s just not enough time. I need to break up my days into chunks of work and chunks of rest, so at the end of the day, my 9-to-5 work day actually holds only about 6-1/2 hours of productivity. It has to be that way, or I get completely overwhelmed and then I’m really behind.

So, I just extend the work I do, and I break it into smaller chunks. I look at the list of things I need to do, and I break them down into smaller, more manageable pieces, and then I do them bit by bit, in my ‘off’ hours.

This makes folks in my household a bit nervous, as they think that I’m a workaholic and “all I ever do is work!” But it’s not true — I’m breaking down all the things I have to do, to remain a viable employee into bite-size chunks that are not difficult to do at all. And when they’re that small — for example, like looking over a piece of code or reviewing some document or previewing some features I’m supposed to add to a program I’m writing — they’re actually enjoyable. And I feel good getting them done.

I have progress to report on Monday morning, and that makes me feel really good about myself.

It also doesn’t exhaust me, like trying to cram everything into my 9-to-5 schedule does. That’s just too taxing. I’d much rather spread it all out, take my time, and be able to enjoy myself while I’m doing it.

Now, if I can just get my family and my therapist and all the folks around me who want me to “take it easy” to understand this and get off my back. What’s worse — extending my “work day” a little bit and actually getting some stuff done and keeping my job… or “taking it easy” in the name of coddling myself, falling behind, and making me a liability to my employer/group?

That’s literally the choice I have. I choose the former. I have to.

Thinking about my developing coping mechanisms, I must say that I’m none too impressed by the people who advocate slacking off and limiting my activities, for the sake of my well-being. Maybe it’s because my MTBIs are in the past, and I’ve developed coping mechanisms to deal with them, as well as healed up from a lot of my most immediate issues. Maybe it’s because people don’t understand the nature of mild traumatic brain injury and they just assume that once you’re brain injured,  you’re permanently and irreversibly screwed. Maybe it’s because that’s how they would deal with things. Maybe it’s all of the above. But if one more person tells me, “Oh, you need to just relax and take time for yourself,” I think my head is going to explode.

Let me set the record straight — I have a tremendous amount of energy, and I need to use it. When it’s not properly directed, through productive activity and/or exercise, I become very difficult to live with, at times dangerously so, and I don’t feel good about myself. I feel like a failure, and I have the diminished productivity to substantiate it. I need to keep moving. I need to be active. I don’t respond well to languishing for long hours. I just don’t. I’ve got what my neuropsych calls “constant inner restlessness” that propels me forward, and if I try to stop it, I’m just screwed.

For me, being active and doing things that challenge and entertain me and produce some tangible result is taking care of myself. It is relaxing. Yes, fatigue can be a problem for me, but when I break up all my activities and go about them in a piecemeal fashion, I can fit naps in between times.

There’s not much in-between gray area for me — I’m either all-on, or all-off, and I’m sick of fighting it, just because other people aren’t that way. Let them walk a mile in my shoes, then decide if I should live my life like them. I’ve been thinking long and hard about the directions I need to take with my life and my work, and what I come back to, time and again, is that I just have to work harder now. Because I’m not willing to give up on the kind of work I do, I’m not willing to part with the learning and the doing and the tangible results I get from my type of work, but I can’t keep going about it the old way — as in, just working during the appointed hours. I have to work smarter and harder. And I need to do it with joy and intention and simply refuse to give up. I may need to make some changes to my approaches — focusing more on machine-oriented work, rather than people interactions… getting away from startups and enterpreneurial situations and gravitating more towards big, established  companies…. But I’m not giving up on my software engineering or technology. It just has too much to offer me.

I understand that my brain has been changed by multiple injuries. It may have developed “wrong” from a very early age. But by God, I just can’t bring myself to throw in the towel, “adjust down” my expectations about what is possible for me. I can’t live a marginal life, sheltering myself from possible difficulty. I need to be out there, engaged in my own life, making my own way in the world. There are lots of people out there who are a lot less smart than me, who are doing okay. There are lots of people out there who have less acumen, less social ability, less determination, and they’re doing their thing.

Why shouldn’t I? As much as I’d like to play it safe and keep to myself in my corner, I realize that this is not true safety at all. If I have to learn by trial and error (which I always do – and there are plenty of trials and more errors than I care to think about), then so be it.

So I fall… But I also bounce.

Now, back to work!

All new me… all the time…

I have been contemplating my situation as an MTBI survivor pretty intensely, lately. Thinking about how it’s changed my brain — not only since 2004, when I fell down a flight of stairs and smacked the back of my head hard a number of times on the steps… but throughout my entire life. After all, I have had a wide array of injuries — I got knocked out, I’ve had several sports concussions, I’ve been in car accidents, and I’ve had other falls.

Head injury has undoubtedly affected my life, and until a few years ago, I had no idea that the problems I’d always had (but never wanted to own up to) were in fact of a common kind and traceable to common reasons — mild traumatic brain injuries.

The more I realize just how much MTBI has affected me, the more I realize that I really need to re-learn how to walk through the world. Not just because of my most recent accident, but because of a lifetime of TBI-related changes to my cognitive-behavioral version of reality. I need to seriously back it up and rethinking just about everything I assume to be true… because so much of it has been shaped by TBI and clouded by a broken brain… and now I have tools — the Give Back Orlando material as well as other info and tools I’ve come across — to repair some of the damage and renew my life.

Some of the repairs are relatively small – like just changing around some of the things I do when I get up in the a.m. Others are larger, like changing direction with my work and being more realistic about my abilities and inclinations. But the bottom line is, I really need to rethink many of the aspects of my life and not take everything for granted, all the time.

The habits of thought and action I have become accustomed to, may be working against me. I know many of them are. So, I need to fix that.

I’ve recently reached the conclusion that MTBI, as “mild” as it may be, has significantly skewed my perception and interpretation of the world around me and it has effectively caused me to live in a different version of reality than lots of other people. Many situations in my life, I now believe, may have been very different from how I perceived them, which has caused me to grow up with inaccurate understandings of others and my place in the world.

Let me explain — I have always had a heck of a time interpreting people’s social cues. I don’t always understand how to make conversation (correction — I very rarely understand how to make conversation) and I don’t always understand what people are saying to me. This has happened for as long as I can remember. It’s also a point of frustration for people, that I don’t communicate as well as they apparently expect me to (while talking, not when writing – one of the reasons I write so enthusiastically is that conversation and spoken communication is such a bear of an undertaking for me).

When I was growing up I was constantly getting things turned around, and people would lose patience with me. They would raise their voices at me — to get my attention or out of mounting frustration. And I would often startle, because I had trouble following what was going on. I’d then get that rush of adrenaline and heart-pounding and all of that uproar in my head and body that told me “You’re in trouble — they’re mad at you, and they’re yelling at you because you’re a bad person.” I thought I was in trouble — that people hated me. That they didn’t like me. That I was being bad and awful and problematic.

But actually, in some cases, they were just trying to get my attention, and they did it in ways that were less gentle than they could be.

This happened over and over and over again. And over the years, when I was a kid, I developed this godawful complex about  being a terrible person, an ogre, a monster… you name it. I was convinced that everyone hated me — teachers, parents, other kids. A lot of them were unkind to me, especially my peers, but my assumptions about being bad and always being in trouble may not have actually been true.

So, I ended up with a variety of complexes and a nagging suspicion that I was good for nothing and just a drain and a chore for everyone to deal with… when actually, I just had a hard time keeping up, nobody realized it, and they did a clumsy job of bringing me up to speed.

In many ways, I think that my MTBIs had a negative impact on my mental health. Depression and PTSD and low self-esteem have all hounded me my entire life, along with a bunch of other conditions that could be in the DSM-IV, but I’m not looking up for the sake of time. I also don’t want to know. Heck, I’m reasonably functional in basic ways… why belabor it with mental health diagnoses? 😉

One of the other byproducts of this cognitive skewing is that some of my greatest skills and talents have been systematically overlooked and underdeveloped by not only the world, but also myself.

That anosognosia business (not knowing what you don’t know) has complicated my life by diverting so very much of my energy into trying to smooth over and patch up my foibles in the areas where I don’t excel (but didn’t realize it), meanwhile diverting so very much of my energy away from the areas where I have the greatest strengths. 

What a waste. All my life, I’ve been trying to make up for what I lacked, which in many cases just isn’t coming back, and in the meanwhile I’ve neglected the areas where I am strongest… thinking I need to be at least 75% all across the board, instead of allowing myself to be at 30% in some areas, while being at 99% in others.

That deliberate focus on making up for deficits at the expense of raw talent is how people dealt with special needs kids when I was growing up — trying like crazy to get them moderately functional where they were weakest and most struggling… all the while neglecting the areas where they/we were highly, highly, almost eerily functional.

Missed opportunities for the sake of common denominators.  For the sake of my sanity, I just can’t contemplate what that’s cost me…

So, now I’m going to do something about it. Because I can. Because I’m entitled. I have a right to do everything in my power to make the most of the abilities I have, while letting the less-strong areas just be. I have a right to tend to myself and gather all the knowledge I can. Even if  I’m not highly educated in a traditional sense, with all the degrees and the certifications and whatnot, I can be highly educated in a personal, modern sense. There is so much great information out there, and I have a knack for reading and digesting things over time — all the while making use of them.*

*Indeed, one of the things I love about the Give Back Orlando material is that it’s geared for self-therapy, and it never tells you “You’re just a peon without a Ph.D — what do you know!”  Dr. Schutz actually tells us what books we can read, and where we can turn for answers, which is truly amazing in the highly (almost rabidly) territorial intellectual property driven world we currently inhabit.

I’ve got my notebooks, I’ve got my library card, I’ve got my file folders and my lists of issues I need to address. I’m paying attention to myself at a much deeper level than ever before, and I’m determined to work at it as best I can, so I can overcome what’s standing in my way. I’m not just going to roll over, saying, “Oh, well, I got hit on the head a lot over the course of my life, so I guess that disqualifies me from living!”

It’s not about that, with me. Hell no! It’s about taking an objective look at what in my thought processes and behavioral patterns needs fixing – and then fixing it as best I can.

Or compensating for it.

Or avoiding situations that play to the parts of me that can’t be fixed.

I have sustained multiple mild traumatic brain injuries over the course of my life. These injuries have altered my perceptions of life around me and fostered erroneous deductions that have led to poor choices and bad behavior. They have also stoked mental health issues that have their root not in what was done to me or what happened to me, but how I thought about what took place in my life. I am a grown-up individual in my mid-40s who cannot afford to harbor erroneous thinking and poorly constructed patterns any longer.

So, I’m going to do something about it. I’m changing my life, one day at a time. One minute at a time. One experience at a time.

But change it, I will.

Completing the rewiring

Well, my old therapist (OT) has now retired, and it’s time for me to get on with my life. OT helped me a tremendous amount, while I was dealing with the initial shock and dismay of the dawning realization that all has not been well in my life, in many respects… and head injuries had a lot to do with it. The availability of a living, breathing person who could sit with me while I talked my way through the ups and downs of the past couple of years was incredibly helpful. And I will miss OT keenly. I already do. My New Therapist (NT) is smart, highly educated, experienced, and apparently quite aware of the level of foolishness that can come from my mouth at times. OT has already talked me back from the edge of really ill-informed decisions/actions several times, and I’m the better for it.

Much as I do mourn the loss of OT — and it is a loss — I do want to get on with things, and stop spending so much time getting in touch with my emotions. I have logistical issues to address that can’t wait. And I need to work with someone who understands that, who understands my unique mental health profile in terms of physical injuries, rather than mental illness of some kind. There are actual structural issues going on with me that have mucked up my thinking and decision-making for a long time, and I need to get myself on a better track.

NT is helping me do that, as only a neuropsychologically oriented therapist can do. A regular “talk therapist” — no matter how kind-hearted and well-intentioned and psychologically experienced — will be limited in what they can offer me… unless they really understand the TBI aspects of mental health.

See, here’s the thing — after having gotten hit on the head a bunch of times as a kid, it seems to me that my development was altered by those head injuries. The thoughts and impressions I had, growing up, were skewed by my traumatized brain, and because I was reacting to and dealing with situations that weren’t actually “true” representations of what was going on, my social and emotional development got skewed, as well. I had such intense, precipitous reactions to so many things, when I was a kid… and that certainly must have shaped me in unique ways. I think it’s fair to say that when I was growing up, I was having a very different experience of childhood than my siblings and peers, so that shaped me in very different ways into my teen years and my adulthood. Which made me a different kind of person — a kind of person very few people understood that well. I’m not sure anybody did, to be honest. Including myself.

I suppose you could say I was developmentally delayed in some respects.  But in others, I leaped ahead of everyone. Looking around me now, I can’t say that my different development has handicapped me. But it has skewed my perception and interpretation of reality — or, at least, my life experience. And because of that, approaching my emotional and mental health is a different matter than doing so with other people who grew up in regular ways with un-injured brains.

Working my way (slowly) through the Give Back Orlando ebook  Self-Therapy for Head Injury I’m really struck by the talk about how an injured brain can get jammed in the “all-clear” position and not realize that it needs to go from autopilot to thoughtful/careful mode.

I quote from Chapter Two: Head-Injured Moments:

~Note: (bold) is mine~

Most of the head-injured moments happen at times when thoughtful/careful mode is needed but the damaged brain doesn’t see that. The most serious problem in TBI is the breakdown of the system that watches to see when thoughtful/careful mode is needed, when the automatic pilot needs to be shut off. After TBI, the brain misreads the situation, fails to see the need for thoughtful/careful mode, and instead stays on automatic pilot. That causes the person to say or do things impulsively, while feeling as if what he or she is saying and doing is perfectly correct. The behavior comes out wrong, but the survivor is left feeling confused about why everyone is getting upset. The reason why is that we are expected to shut off the quick-and-dirty autopilot mode when something important needs to get done properly. In ordinary life, only a slob, or a jerk, or a loser, or a person with a bad attitude–someone who doesn’t care enough to be sure to get it right–would use the quick-and-dirty method when the stakes are high. Consequently, employers, friends, and family end up getting annoyed and then outright angry with the survivor for being so careless. It may take months or even years, but eventually the people in the survivor’s life begin to give up on him/her because of this failure to use normal quality control, this failure to try hard enough to get things right that really matter. Even though the head-injured moments are rare, they have a huge impact over the months and years. And if you watch for them and write them down, you can start to learn how to fix them.

This is really big for me — the last part, especially. It’s big, because here is someone who clearly knows about the chief vexation of my life — my repeated experiences with screwing up without intending to or realizing I had, until after the damage was done… after the words were said or the job was mucked up or the story/joke was told wrong or the errand was forgotten. And the experience of having people just give up on me over time. Parents, teachers, bosses… all the folks along the way who had such high hopes for me, only to see me mess up, time and time again, for no apparent reason.

Laziness? Carelessness? Cluelessness? Who could say? All anyone knew was, I screwed stuff up. All I knew was, if I was given something to do, chances were, I’d mess it up royally the first time around… and have to work my way back like crazy, just to get back to an even keel.

The one thing I’ve had going for me, over the years, is my indomitable spirit. Nothing gets me down for long — not sure if it’s a superior character or the inability to maintain my focus on negativity for very long 😉  (There’s something to be said for being easily distracted — my attention can be pulled away from misery just as easily as it can be pulled away from a task I’ve just started, which is an added bonus.) I’ve always had this sense that, if I just kept going — and used whatever resources were given me — eventually, if I just stuck with it and didn’t quit, I would find a way through.

And it’s been true, for the most part. I still mess up… but I’m doing something about it. And the Give Back Orlando material is an amazing tool to help me take my recovery even further. (Please keep in mind, that I’m only two chapters into the Self-Therapy guide, so my opinion may change later.)

Anyway, back to the rewiring…

I’ve felt for some time, now, that traumatic brain injuries need not be final. Ever since I read Norman Doidge’s book The Brain That Changes Itself, I’ve been convinced that TBI is not the end of the story. Now certainly, some brain injuries are so severe and so thorough that there’s no turning back. But in countless cases, I believe that neuroplasticity (where the brain rewires itself or re-routes/re-maps certain functionality away from injured parts to healthier, more capable areas) can result in restored abilities. The abilities may not be the same, but they don’t have to be gone forever. Different parts of the brain can literally step in to pick up the slack for injured parts… those “parts” being somewhat diffuse and multidimensional in the brain’s own mysterious, inimitable way.

There’s a whole lot to this concept of neuroplasticity — more than I have time and space (and available memory) to fill in here. But the bottom line is, the brain is capable of rewiring itself. And when you sustain a TBI, whether it’s mild or moderate or severe, rewiring is necessary, in order to regain functionality. If the brain doesn’t get rewired, if it doesn’t heal, if it doesn’t evolve and shift to rise to the demands of life outside the skull, then you’ve got problems.

And when you’ve had a TBI, you often don’t even realize that there are problems to be dealt with.

So, you end up spending an awful lot of time wondering why people are mad at you, why your life is all turned around, and where all the money in the bank got to.

I’ve been in that type of situation more than I care to admit. And I still have a lot of territory to cover. It’s a bit daunting at times, because the skewed interpretations of “reality” began with me at a pretty young age, and I have been intermittently (and unpredictably) misreading signals for a very long time. But the point is, now I know there could be — and probably are — issues with my perception that need to be ironed out. I now know that my brain needs to be retrained. Remapped. Rewired. It’s been getting rearranged, on and off, for over 35 years, now, and I still have a ways go to before the wiring is “up to code.”

Now, I know that this “job” of living my life is never-ending. But I like to think of it as a Herculean, rather than Sisyphean, effort. Hercules was the guy who completed his 12 tasks and cashed in. Sisyphus was the guy who kept rolling that boulder up and down the hill, over and over, for ever and ever, no sooner getting it to the top, than it rolled back down. At times, I’ve felt like Sisyphus, but that’s been a feeling, not a fact. In truth, my Herculean efforts — fighting monsters and hauling heavy loads and plowing fields and whatnot — have paid off a great deal. And for all my screw-ups, I have had a lot of successes.

That’s what I need to remember at times, when everything seems to be going to hell, and I’m sitting around feeling sorry for myself. Woe is me… my therapist has left me… woe is me… I’m getting confused and turned around at work… woe is me… I’m exhausted and can’t seem to sleep through the night… woe is me…  Yada yada yada…

This life is a work in progress — emphasis first on work, then on progress. But it is both. I am no stranger to hard work, and I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty. I’m also not afraid to look at my demons and dance with them. I’m not going to let them lead me on the dance floor — this dance is more modern and interpretive than a tango or walz. But it is a dance, no less.  And I need to not get my heart set on sitting on the sidelines while the best that life has to offer passes me by.

Certainly, there is a lot of work to do. But might it not be possible to have a good time, while I’m working? I grew up in an area where there was a lot of farming… a lot of work. People just did what they had to, and you didn’t bitch and moan about the loads you carried. Everyone just assumed that life was full of heavy lifting and hard lessons, and nobody mooned and boo-hoo’ed and wailed and gnashed their teeth about it. Life = Work. That was the deal, and if you didn’t like it, well tough nuggies.

Consequently, people went out of their way to figure out how to make that working way of life into something rewarding and uplifting and fulfilling. There was family and church and good food and community activities and service. There was reward in doing good work and in a job well-done. People didn’t try to get out of doing things — they found ways to make doing things more enjoyable. By turning on the radio. By singing. By coming up with games to play while finishing a job. By contemplating some idea. Or just by getting into the business at hand and immersing themselves in it 100%.

In a way, I miss that orientation in life. The area where I now live is full of great people, but a lot of them are well-to-do and spoiled and unaccustomed to hard work. They somehow think they’re exempt from exerting themselves. In fact, much of this country seems to be like that. People are so accustomed to convenience and customization, they just assume that all the world is going to modify itself to meet their specifications. They’ve had hardship in life. They’ve suffered. People have been unkind to them or hurt them — physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally — and they deserve a reward or a “break”. And I find myself sometimes slipping into that frame of mind, too — because I’ve had unfortunate things happen to me, I should be somehow compensated. I should have an easier schedule. I should get accommodations from loved-ones. I shouldn’t have to work my ass off to do  basic things that come easily to others. I should… I should…

But that’s crap, and I know it. I’m a worker, at heart. I grew up working, and I feel most fulfilled when I’ve gotten to the end of a day with all my tasks completed and something to show for them. I don’t shy away from hard work — I embrace it and seek it out. If I hadn’t been head-injured so many times over the course of my life, I might have an easier time of making the most of my abilities, but that’s not how things turned out, and it’s counterproductive to focus on that what-ifWhat-is interests me a whole lot more — what I can do, what I can do about my situation, what I can do to improve, what I can do to salvage and redeem the aspects of myself that really struggle at times.

I’m a worker, plain and simple. And I feel best when I’m not shying away from the challenges that present themselves to me. Everybody has some burden they must carry — whether obvious or hidden. I’m not exception, and I haven’t been singled out by a vindictive universe or a punishing Higher Power as punishment for some “sin” I committed in the past. So, I have it hard at times. So what? Who doesn’t?

I guess the main thing about all this, is figuring out not how to avoid difficulty and challenge, but how to make difficulty and challenge work for me. How to have fun with it. How to be uplifted by it, not dragged down. For me, it’s all about transcendence. It’s not like I’ve got all the time in the world to waste. I do have a lot of issues. I have a lot of pain, I have a lot of confusion, I have a lot of frustrations and anxiety, and I’m at a big cross-roads in my life with no idea which way to turn.

But I’m still here.

A friend in their 70s said to me recently, “Don’t forget to have fun, while you can. Life passes so quickly…” It’s true.

Note to self: Today, have fun! No matter what.

Resources for Brain and Spinal Cord Injury

I’m posting this here, so I can find it later

Resources for Brain and Spinal Cord Injury Research

It’s got all sorts of links and other goodies — just the ticket, for when I need to distract myself – which is not always such a good thing, I’ll admit 😉