Putting Anxiety to Good Use

river winding through green landscape

I had a really good weekend. I made a lot of progress, and I got a lot of plans in place that I think are really going to help me get stuff done. I didn’t clean my gutters, which I really needed to do. And there were a few other things I need to do this morning, to catch up. But all in all, it was a good and satisfying weekend.

My top achievement was getting rid of some serious distractions that have been pulling my attention in all different ways. Those are old projects I was very fond of… and that I was very fond of thinking I’d ever finish. As it turns out, because I had too many things going at the same time, I never advanced down the path I was hoping to, which resulted in me getting nothing done.

So, that’s stopped.

And that’s a big deal for me. Because distraction and dissipate have been regular themes in my life, for as long as I can remember. I’m not sure what’s changed with me, but suddenly I don’t feel drawn to spread myself so thin.

Part of it might be getting a hold of my anxiety. Or just using it for something productive, instead of trying to get rid of it entirely. For quite some time, I’ve tried to manage my anxiety by calming myself down. But at the end of last week, I realized that anxiety is actually a really potent source of energy for me. And it’s constant. It never really goes away.

So, I can use up all my time and energy and attention trying to control / manage something that’s always there, anyway. Or I can redirect the energy into something productive. And really kick it.

That’s what I’ve been doing for the past several days. Kicking it, using my anxiety. Not trying to calm myself down, but directing my energy into something useful. Making plans. Creating a new pace for myself. Letting that old companion anxiety propel me forward…  Turning that often-unwelcome companion into a friend.

And it’s working out pretty well, I have to say. After years and years of being so dissipated and distracted by, well, just about everything, I feel like I have a much better understanding of how my system works — and how it can work for me.

Of course, none of this would have been possible, if I hadn’t worked at my TBI recovery intentionally and with a lot of trial-and-error. I can tell my brain is behaving more, these days, because I’m actually able to focus. I used to be able to do it, at will. Then I fell in 2004, and that went away. I couldn’t manage much of anything, concentration-wise. That’s something that’s come back over time, with lots and lots of practice and (again) trial-and-error. I’ve let myself make mistakes. That’s how I learn. And I gave up worrying about “failure” in the process, which always helps.

So, yes. This is good. I’ve got my mandate for the next year — maybe two. I’m only focusing on one major project, for 2019, funneling my anxious energy into taking steps to do something about each hurdle I come up against — which are many. I will keep this blog going, because it helps me keep my head on straight and also keep focused on what’s most important to me. But I’m not working on a bunch of other side projects that I had going, lo those many years.

And, ironically, that tames my anxiety. Using it for something good not only lets it just be without judgment or blockage, but it also gives it somewhere to go. Like a rushing river, when I let it just flow and direct it in a certain direction, it takes me on some really interesting turns. Instead of damming it up and trying to control it, I just let it flow… and I ride that wave.

Which is good.

And overdue.

Onward.

Taking it easy… sort of

work sign showing person shoveling a pile of dirtI’m doing my version of “taking it easy” today.

Basically, I’m working on my projects that have been on the back burner for weeks and weeks. Five weeks, pretty much. Count them – five. Ouch. Especially considering how psyched I was about finally getting back into them, about a month ago.

Then I had to travel.

Then I got tired.

Then I had to travel some more.

Then I was exhausted.

I’ve spent the past week swamped at work – two very late-night working sessions, and both nights not getting much sleep at all.

It was really demoralizing and depleting.

But — ha! — now I’m back.

I’ve had the whole day to myself today, to do as I pleased. And it’s been good. I didn’t do the errands I typically have to do on Saturday mornings, because, well, they’ll keep. Those errands aren’t going anywhere, and I needed the down time… the time to just sink into my passion projects and not be governed by someone else’s timeframes, deadlines, limitations.

Even though I worked really hard, this morning, it was very much a vacation from all the intense work at the office, as well as the care-taking for my spouse. Oh, also, my spouse has been ill, so I’ve been doing even more care-taking this week, than I did when we were traveling. And that’s a lot. Nearly constant attention paid. Lots of interruptions. And a trip to the doctor, as well as wrangling with the pharmacist who didn’t understand why I was asking all those questions about the type of medication that was prescribed. My spouse is extremely sensitive to meds, and the pills given before made them violently ill.

So, yeah. I’m going to ask questions. Too bad. At least I kept my wits about me and didn’t yell at anyone. That’s helpful.

Anyway, I spent a great deal of time this morning (and early afternoon) mapping out specific steps I can follow to make the most of my time and not make myself crazy in the process. Now that I have it figured out (mostly), I can move forward.

I hate not knowing what direction to take. It stops me. It blocks me. I’m not a fan.

Anyway, duty calls. I’ve got some things I must take care of this evening, so I’ll sign off for now. I am very much looking forward to this next week, when I’ll have five days off work… to continue to make progress.

 

Looking back, looking ahead… and trying to get some sleep in the meantime

rowboat at docks

I have been meaning to get more sleep, during this vacation. I’m able to take naps in the afternoon, which is great. I just can’t seem to get to sleep at a decent hour (before 11:00 p.m.) Part of the problem is that I just don’t want to go to sleep earlier than 11:00. I’ve got an internal clock that tells me when it’s time to sleep, and it generally doesn’t kick in till 10:45 or so.

It’s a little nerve-wracking. But I do it to myself, putting all kinds of pressure on myself to go to sleep, when I’m not really feeling that tired. And then getting up at my regular time, which lately has been anywhere between 5 a.m. and 6:30 a.m. So, I’m not always getting a full 7.5 – 8 hours, like I need to. And then I wake up irritated, because I can’t sleep through.

It’s an ongoing problem, especially during this vacation.

Well, my life is structured very differently now than it is when I’m working. I’m still doing my morning exercise, which is crucial. I’m actually doing  better with it than usual — getting both my bike ride and the weight lifting done. I just don’t move enough during the day. I move more, when I’m at the office, because, well, I’m at the office. I have to go to meetings. I have to get my lunch on the ground floor. I have to make trips to the water cooler as well as the restroom. It gets me up and around, while being at home — where everything is within easy access and just a few steps away — keeps me sedentary. Heck, I can even work while sitting/lying on the sofa, which sounds great, but is a bit of an occupational hazard.

Anyway, it’s the end of the year, and I’m kind of out of sorts. Feeling like I’m drifting, cut loose from my moorings a bit… feeling like I fell asleep in a rowboat that was tied to a dock, and then I woke up finding myself drifting out in the ocean, with the dock in the distance. The thing is, although the distant docks look familiar, and that’s where I expected to wake up, I can also see other sights in the distance.

Cities I didn’t know existed before.

Distant piers and jetties that look every bit as interesting as what I’ve known before.

Busy industrial ports that hold mysteries within their iron fortresses

And secluded beaches to explore.

Different sorts of places where people live, work, and go about their business, which are both foreign and fascinating to me.

And lighthouses to guide me along the way.

Lights… sights… sounds… And a whole world of choices out there.

When I actually have some time to catch up with myself, I can see so many more possibilities. And it’s invigorating.

But it’s also a little depressing. Because I spend so much of my time in recovery mode, just trying to right myself in the very wrong world, that I don’t have as much time as I’d like to just kick back and relax into finding out What’s Next.

I look around me at my life… And I see so much more beyond my present situation. And I also see that the resources I have at my disposal are, well, limited. I’m not complaining. I’m just saying. I don’t have all the energy in the world, and I don’t have all the patience to match it. I want to cut to the chase and get on with my life, to the best of my ability. And after all these years of really working on my TBI recovery and firming up my Sense-Of-Self, I’m finally at a point where I have a reliable idea of how “I” am going to react and behave under certain circumstances.

That’s the biggest, hairiest, most dangerous part of life after TBI — losing your Sense-Of-Self. It erodes your self-confidence. It crushes your self-respect. It makes every situation into a danger-fraught series of surprises that threaten everything you care about. And then the real trauma of TBI sets in.

I really believe that the biggest trauma in mild traumatic brain injury comes after the injury itself. There’s a steady stream of “micro-traumas” which stress out our systems and add to the fight-flight biochemical load. And unless we learn how to manage our fight-flight overload and learn how to clear out the neurochemical gunk of all that ongoing stress, mild TBI continues to take its toll. It continues to haunt us, to tax us, to load us up with invisible burdens that nobody else understands, but which are very, very real.

If you really understand the physiology of trauma (and not a lot of people know about it, let alone understand and fully appreciate it), and you understand the profound change that even a “mild” TBI brings to your entire system, all of this makes sense. You know that the subtle changes to how your system works are disorienting and anxiety-producing. You know that the body’s mechanisms for protecting itself are working overtime post-TBI, and they’re kicking in, in the most unlikely of situations. You know that the overall effect builds up, and you know that it’s cumulative.

You also know that while the effects may show up as a psychological disorder, the underlying basis is a combination of mind and body — and the body bears the burden of it all.

The thing about this whole deal is, because the body is involved, it’s possible to work with the body to turn that sh*t around. Even if your mind feels like mush (I’ve been there), even if you can’t remember what you did, just a few hours before (I know the feeling well), even if you can’t get through your morning without a detailed checklist (the story of my life for years), the body can act as a gateway to recovery.

Regular exercise helps stabilize your system. Eating the right foods (and steering clear of the wrong ones) helps your metabolism stay stable and keeps you off the blood sugar roller-coaster. Getting enough sleep lets the brain “knit itself back together”, as well as clear out the gunk that builds up, just as a result of everyday living. Plus, learning to regulate your heart rate and your blood pressure can train your overall system to get back to a stable state, even if everything feels like it’s falling apart around you.

I’m sipping the last little bit of my half-cup of coffee, as I write this. The snow from last night is giving way to freezing rain, which will fall until midday, when the temperatures start to rise, and regular rain falls. There’s always a chance that the ice buildup will take out our power, and that’s no fun. But I have wood for a fire in the fireplace, and we’ve been keeping the house pretty warm, so we’ll have some residual heat to see us through. In the past, we’ve had some pretty hair-raising experiences with losing power, and I don’t look forward to repeating them.

But I know a lot more now about keeping my physical system stable, and I’m in a much better place, mentally, than I’ve been in past years. So, I’m at much less risk than before. And knowing that relieves the pressure and also reduces the risk of my “losing it” even moreso. And that’s good. It’s awesome.

So, where was I… I’m kind of meandering, this morning, as I try to get my bearings. I’m looking back at the last year, wondering if all the effort really paid off the way I wanted it to. I’m not sure it has. Some things I started have kind of stalled. And other things I wanted to continue with have floundered, as well. In some ways, I’ve been as diligent as ever. In my day job, for example, I’ve been invested and involved in ways that have actually paid off. When I think of all the other jobs I screwed up since 2004 (and even before that), it’s kind of depressing.

So, I won’t think about them. I’ll focus on the good.

And as I look forward to my future, I see a much simpler — but much more do-able — path ahead. I’ve let go of a lot of old activities that were busy-work I picked up for the sake of pumping up my tonic arousal (the state of wakefulness in your brain) and getting my system turned “ON”. I had a handful of websites I wanted to start, a number of business ventures that seemed promising, apps I wanted to build, and novels I wanted to write. That extended experiment in busy-ness went on for 10 years or so, and it just didn’t work out, so I’ve now narrowed my focus to a few particular activities, which will actually lead somewhere.

Heck, they’ve already started to pay off. And taking the pressure off myself to go find another job… yeah, I’ve let that one go. Yes, traveling for work every few months really takes it out of me, but there’s no guarantee the next job won’t be just as much of a pain in the ass. Plus, it’s too stressful to go changing jobs every few years. I used to thrive on that experience, but now it’s just a pain in the ass. I need to look for the good in things and tweak the things that I’ve got going on… not ditch them and go looking for something better, somewhere else.

So, I guess I’ll wrap up my ramble. My morning is in free-flow, so I’m just letting my mind wander as it will, for the time being. I got my grocery shopping done yesterday. I got my meals for today prepared yesterday, too. I can’t go out and do anything, because the roads are bad. There’s no need to go anywhere, anyway. I’ll just hang out for the day… drift… make a fire, perhaps, and catch up on my reading.

And write a bit more. Because I can. I’ve got the time and the opportunity. So, yeah…

Onward.

Another sort of amnesia

A really interesting thing has been happening with me, lately. It’s actually been unfolding over the past six months or so, when I think about it. More and more, I’m piecing scattered parts of myself back together. Most importantly, I’m becoming increasingly aware that there are pieces of myself I need to piece back together. I’m starting to remember things I used to love to do, things that used to be part of my everyday life, that I couldn’t do without… but suddenly became “pointless” after my last fall.

In particular, mindfulness and meditation are back. And I’m really focusing again on the re-development of the abilities and the interests that keep me focused, centered, and going strong. This return is big. It’s huge for me.

Now, it might not seem like that big of a deal. After all, everybody loses motivation, now and then. Everybody goes through ups and downs, shifting in and out of specific interests. Why get so worked up?

You have to understand — my shifting away from mindfulness and meditation wasn’t just a flight of fancy. It wasn’t just me getting distracted by other things and taking a break. When I got away from it, I not only got away from it, but I pretty much removed it wholesale from my life.

To understand the full impact of this, you have to comprehend what a significant part of my life mindfulness and meditation were, for many, many years. I had always been a thoughtful kid, growing up. Philosophical, even. I spent a great deal of time contemplating life and its deeper meanings, and I didn’t let the fact that I was young stop me from pondering age-old things. I would meditate on mountain vistas and campfires, commune with nature on solitary walks… be one with the universe while sitting and watching dust particles dance in a sunbeam.

In retrospect, I believe this tendency to contemplate and meditate arose naturally from my difficulties with everyday activities that other kids engaged in. I had trouble with my coordination — real balance problems, at times — and my senses were pretty sensitive when I was tired, which was a lot of the time. I never really fit in, like a lot of kids. But unlike other kids, who went out of their way to remold themselves to they could fit in better, I withdrew to a solitary, almost monk-like life of minding the smallest details of life and extracting meaning from them.

Into my adult life, too, I spent a tremendous amount of time contemplating and meditating, communing with the cosmos whenever I could. I found tremendous comfort in that, a sense of connection that eluded me in everyday life with other people. External situations that others found easy tended to baffle me, so I focused my energies on cultivating an inner life, an inner view of the world that was consistent with my heart and mind. I spent my free time reading and journaling and meditating and exploring spiritual matters. I wasn’t heavily invested in “the things of this world” because I had other interests in mind —  namely, my connection with that still small voice within.

It served me well, too. On the surface, spending a lot of time contemplating and meditating might seem like an interesting hobby, but what good would it really do a person in the real world?

Actually, it helped me tremendously, as I developed a practice I called “modified za-zen” where you maintain your mindful composure and presence of mind in the midst of chaos. It was a real “warrior stance” I took – being impassive and composed even in the face of full-on attack or a schedule packed full of highly stressful tasks. That practice enabled me to play a significant part in many heavy-duty projects at work, and it molded me into a truly competent team player who was a rock and a cornerstone of the groups I was with. It cultivated in me a presence of mind, a peace of mind, that was the envy of my spouse, my friends, my co-workers. Very little could ruffle my feathers, when I was in the zone. I wasn’t always in the zone, to be sure — I had various issues that would come up, no doubt related to my neurology, but that practice of mindful awareness and intentional composure made all the difference in some very tough situations.

After I fell in 2004, that changed.


Broken Bokeh by WatchinDworldGoBy

Suddenly, I couldn’t be bothered with that meditation stuff. And contemplation? Well, that just seemed like a huge waste of time. As for my composure at work and at home, well, who the hell cared about that anymore? I “decided” I was sick and tired of putting forth the effort to hold myself together. I “decided” it was high time that I had a break and stopped holding myself in check. There was a part of me that suddenly felt like making the effort to sustain my calm was stupid and weak. It just didn’t want to be bothered. It told me I was “choosing” to stop controlling my behavior and stop monitoring my moods and state of mind and actively managing them, but the truth be told, I just couldn’t. The part of me that had used to do that wasn’t working the way it used to. It couldn’t.

It was like the responsible, mature part of me that had good sense about keeping myself centered and sane had been shattered. And in its place I found a selfish, self-centered, self-pitying creature who had a hair-trigger temper and frankly didn’t give a damn what anybody had to say. If that part wanted to act out, it acted out, and it had the best of excuses for doing so. The part of me that had long been conscious of how vital it is to keep centered and calm and have mastery over my behavior, didn’t fully recover from that fall. It was like it got knocked out for a lot longer than my lights went dim, and while it was out, it got pushed out of the way by the other part of me that felt like any attempt at composure was cramping its style.

Whereas I had already spent many, many hours… indeed, many months of my life, if you add up all the hours together… cultivating an equanimity that was the envy of many friends and co-workers, starting at the very end of 2004 (I fell at Thanksgiving), I moved pretty rapidly away from that old practice of mine. And within a year’s time, I was in trouble. Deep doo-doo.

Of course, all this was pretty much invisible to me and my broken brain. I told myself, I had other things to do. I told myself, I had to focus on “real” things. I just let the meditation drop and walked away. And whenever some anger or frustration came up, instead of checking in with myself to see if there was any valid reason for me to act on it (there usually wasn’t), I indulged every one of my whims with a self-righteous self-justification that seemed perfectly logical to my broken brain, but logistically made no sense whatsoever.

The result? A lot of headaches at work, a lot of trouble at home, increasing money issues, relationship issues, and health issues. It just wasn’t good.

But all the while, as my struggles compounded, there was still that raging voice in me that was convinced it had every reason and right to accommodate every single negative impulse I had.  Seeing the connection between my feelings and my behavior and the consequences was next to impossible, in my diminished state. I had literally forgotten that it mattered, for me to get a grip.

Okay, enough background. The good news is, I’m coming back. Those old monitoring parts of me that I had worked so hard to cultivate, are coming back online. It’s more than just feeling better and more alert — I AM better and more alert. I’m able to wake up in the morning, I’m able to engage more fully throughout my days, I’m able to step back and take a look at my moods and my behavior and choose the sorts of responses that will work in my favor, not against me. I’m not just on this mad auto-pilot drive; I’m actually able to slow down and contemplate my life and find real meaning in it again.  I’m also able to relax — really relax. It’s pretty amazing.

And as the time passes, with each new success which I fully realize and appreciate, I build up my stores of lost self-regard, self-esteem, self-respect. I also build up my stores of self-control, and I can actually live without being right about everything, no matter what the costs to my relationships. I am better and better able to choose my responses, and even when people around me are acting up and seemingly going out of their way to provoke me, I’m able to pull back from the engagement, figure out what I want to do and say… and do it.

Yeah, it’s pretty amazing. What amazes me even more, is that I went for years without having this as a regular part of my life. It amazes me, I thought I could do without it.

So, I’m enjoying this. Thoroughly. I’m watching my life with a whole new interest, and I’m learning a lot. In a way, I feel as though I’m re-learning skills, like someone re-learns to read and write after a head injury. Like someone re-learns to walk and talk after a stroke. Like someone with amnesia who starts to remember their name, their family, their home, their work… Like someone who wasn’t even fully aware of having amnesia, who suddenly sees a world they once knew, and isn’t sure whether to be elated or dismayed. In truth, it’s a little bit of both. I’m elated that bits and pieces are coming back to me. But I’m also dismayed that I lost sight of them for so long.

It feels very odd to be writing this, and to be realizing it, but I guess I was a lot more impacted in some ways than I really realized. But now that I’ve “got” it, I can move forward. Progress is good.

What really piques my interest is thinking about what got me back on track. I think one of the big things that set it in motion, was taking care of my body — starting to exercise regularly, and waking myself up with exercise and stretching, rather than two strong cups of coffee. That, and stretching and consciously relaxing before I go to sleep at night.

I actually think that I developed a hefty dose of PTSD, in the aftermath. Not right away, not from the fall itself, but rather from the progression of small disasters — bite-size catastrophes — that have dogged me for years. The collapse of jobs, the dramas at home, the startling surprises that I didn’t see coming, the encounters that went poorly or that carried some sort of hurt with them… My sympathetic nervous system has been on high alert for quite some time, now, and it’s taken a toll.

But since I started making a point of caring for my parasympathetic nervous system — bit by bit, exercise by exercise, breath by breath — I have been able to feel a difference in my whole system. Sometimes it’s subtle. Sometimes it’s dramatic. But it’s there. Conscious breathing has played a significant role, of late.

It’s good to be getting back. I’ve been toughing it out just about all my life, but this past 5 years has kicked my butt, to the point where toughing it out is no longer the best solution I can think of. Now I have other ways of dealing with the crises and dramas — ways which involve really basic care of myself, basic care of my system, and attending to the details of my life with a much greater depth than I’ve been able to manage for a number of years.

But now I am remembering who and what I am. I am remembering what matters most to me. I am re-learning the wonder and magic of paying attention to little things, and seeking deeper meaning from my life than what the television has to offer. I am re-learning the discipline of just sitting and observing what’s going on around me, rather than diving in with the intention of “fixing” what isn’t mine to fix. I am re-learning the fine art of calm in the midst of storms, as well as making my way in the world in my own individual way.

I wish I could say it’s coming naturally to me. I used to be able to say that. I used to know it and feel it. I seem to recall that I used to not have to really work at it. But I’m not adverse to work, and if extra effort is required to get me back to a place where I can piece back my life into a state of quiet dignity and genuine happiness. then so be it.

Solutions-Oriented TBI Recovery

I’ve been having a pretty good month, so far. Actually, the goodness goes  back to late November, when I planned and completed a very successful Thanksgiving. It wasn’t successful in the “worldly” sense — it was successful interpersonally and individually. I managed to make it through the holiday without a meltdown, without a breakdown, without total loss of all control, and with a presence with those I was with that I cannot remember ever having had at that time of year.

Now the next spate of holiday activity is coming up. Two families in several states await the pilgrimage of my spouse and myself. It’s going to be even more rigorous than Thanksgiving. Twice as much driving, four times as many families, probably about 20 times as much activity. And this, over the Christmas “break” when everyone will probably be on the road.

I’m being smart about it, planning ahead, pacing myself… Not taking on too, too much at work, but managing (sometimes just barely) to keep up with my workload. Just thinking about it all makes me flush with excitement/dread. But that’s the nature of the game we play at the company where I work, so if I don’t like it, it’s my own danged fault for staying in it… or it’s up to me to change it.

I’ve  been having some pretty amazing revelations, too, with regard to my recovery. I’m reading again, which is a miracle in itself. I’m also able to sleep 8 hours at a stretch, now and then (last night was such a night). And I’m actually awake before 11 a.m., thanks to the daily wake-up exercise routine. I’ve also discovered that, even if I am planning on doing some exercise in the morning — like outside chores that promise to wipe me out — I still need to do my exercise routine to wake myself up, before I do anything else. No compromises, no shortcuts.

My neuropsych has been, well, psyched about my recent breakthroughs. The fact that I’ve been able to manage several extremely challenging travel/family situations in the past five months… the tremendous progress I’ve been making at work… the exercise and the better choices… the difference in my outlook and how I do things, each and every day… not to mention the revelations that I’ve had about what I’m truly capable of… it’s just floored them. Part of me wonders if they’re really amazed, or if they’re just trying to encourage me. But I trust them and their judgment, and I believe them when they say they’re just amazed at my progress.

It’s true. I have been making incredible progress. I have Give Back Orlando to thank for that, as well as my neuropsych and the materials I’ve been reading. One of the main ingredients that’s been critical in my rebound from teetering on the brink of financial ruin and homelessness (I’m not kidding), a few years back, has been the approach I’ve taken to my recovery. Ever since I realized I needed to recover — to rebound — from my fall in 2004… not to mention a lifetime of multiple periodic concussions… I’ve been focused not only on understanding the nature of my issues, but also devising solutions for the issues that are tripping me up.

Indeed, when I look back at my concussive life — starting when I was a young kid, on up through my late 30’s — I can see a pattern, an approach, that has served me well in rebounding from my falls and accidents and knock-out attacks. That pattern/approach was temporarily hidden from me, after my fall in 2004, so I literally forgot how to recover. But when I started getting back, I started to get back into this pattern, and it is helping me as much now — probably more, since I understand the underlying issues — as it did when I was trying to get through my childhood and adolescence and young adulthood after my different injuries.

I could post a laundry list of all my issues — and I probably will in a later post — but I haven’t got time for that right now. Suffice it to say, I’ve got a raft of them. Tens of them. And they cause my trouble on a daily basis. Now, looking at them all by themselves (which I tried doing, a few years back) just gets way too depressing. Seeing my issues for what they are — serious and threatening to my way of life and everything I hold dear — is necessary, true. But if I’m going to recover and rebound, I have to focus not on the problems they cause me, but the solutions I develop to deal with them.

If you’re interested in figuring out how to recover and rebound from your own issues — whether they’re TBI-related or some other sort of cognitive-behavioral bugaboo, like PTSD — I’m happy to share what I do — and have done for as long as I can remember — to get a handle on my issues and overcome them, day after day. (Note: Clearly, I’m human, and some days are better than others, but this is what works best for me — and I have a very successful and fulfilled life to show for it.)

Here’s the approach I take:

  1. I figure out what I want to do. I establish a goal or a desire I wish to fulfill— Like getting out of the house in time to make it to work by 9:30 a.m. I write down what I’m going to do.
  2. I plan my approach and try to prepare as best I can — I collect everything I’ll need for the day, the night before, set my clock early enough to get up, and talk myself through what I’m going to be doing to get out the door at a decent hour. I write down the steps I’m going to follow, in the order and time I plan to follow them.
  3. When the time comes to accomplish my goal, I make a point of focusing completely on it, and I do my utmost to achieve it. I also write down the things I did, and if I don’t make my own goal, I write that down, too, and make a brief note of why it didn’t happen. — As in, I get myself up, do my exercise, and prep for the day. I make a note of what I did all along the way — not lots of notes, but little notes so I’ll remember later. If I can’t manage to get out the door, I make a note of why that was (such as, I miscalculated the amount of time it would take me to eat breakfast, or I forgot that I needed to take out the trash and clean out the back of my car) so I can go back and think about it later.
  4. Over the course of the day, I continue to write down the things I am doing, if they are working or not, and I also look back at how my day started, to put it all in context. If my late morning arrival at work threw off the rest of my day, I can see how it all comes together, and I can also shift my schedule a little bit (like take some things off my plate) so I can catch up with myself again.
  5. At the end of the day, I take a look at how the day went, and I make a note (mental and written) about the things that stopped me from achieving what I wanted to do. I think about this as I plan my next day — if I’m not too tired, I can sometimes head future problems off at the pass. For example, if I was late getting out the door on that morning and it screwed up my day, I can look at what I’ve got going on the next morning, and make changes accordingly. Like double-check my list of things to do, and do them ahead of time. Or set my clock earlier, so I have more time to get things done.

I do this every day, just about. Yesterday, I was really late for work, and I didn’t get to do some things I was  supposed to, because I had forgotten to do some essential chores the night before. I realized, over the course of the day, that I was very tired from a full and active weekend, and I did not rest enough over the past two days. I also realized that when I get tired, I tend to push myself even harder, so I needed to not drive into work today, but work from home. Working from home lets me move at my own pace AND it lets me get an afternoon nap in, which is very important — especially with the holidays coming up.

And all along, I consult my notes. I don’t try to make them all neat, but I do try to make them legible and leave room for other notes in the margins ans I go through my day. Making notes of why things didn’t work out is actually more for consideration throughout the course of the day. I don’t spend a huge amount of time with neatness and completeness. The point of writing it down is more for developing mindfulness around the things I did not manage to get done when I planned to. And giving me a point of reference, when I’m starting to get overwhelmed, as I tend to do.

All in all, the system works for me. It’s solutions-oriented, and the only reason I pay attention to my problems, is so that I can overcome them. I refuse to be held back by these issues, which can be dealt with systematically and logically and logistically. If I have certain problems with fatigue and overwhelm, I can take steps to head those problems off at the pass, or address them in the moment they come up.

This orientation towards goal-oriented solutions is the only way to go for me. It puts my issues in a context that is empowering, rather than defeatist. It also cuts them down to size, by breaking them into smaller and smaller pieces, which I can take, one at a time, to overcome them. When I look at the mammoth iceberg of issues I have — all together at one time — it quickly becomes overwhelming. But if  I break them down into “bite-sized” pieces and tackle each one at a time, AND I attack them with the purpose of achieving the goals I set for myself each day, I can make some real progress.

And I have. And I continue to. Almost by accident — but with a lot of great help from a few key resources — I have come up with a blueprint for addressing my TBI issues, one at a time. And it works. The proof is in my life, which just keeps getting better.

Treating TBI

Treating traumatic brain injuries @ the LATimes

They can’t be set like a bone or staunched like a bleed. They can be difficult even to detect, but the military and others are working to improve care.

Larry Ewing’s life changed last year on a construction site in Victorville; Larry Carr’s changed in 2004 on a road in Iraq. Unlikely brothers in arms, both men now share the same invisible wound — traumatic brain injury.

They tire easily, forget often and lose their balance and concentration without warning. They struggle to make peace with personality changes that have made them barely recognizable to loved ones.

Read the whole story here

Duty to Warn: The Fort Hood Murders/Suicide and the Taboo Question

The Baltimore Chronicle has an interesting article by Gary G. Kohls, MD about the role of psychiatric medications in the Fort Hood incident. From the article:

Most of us have been listening to the massive, round-the-clock press coverage of the latest mass shooting incident at Fort Hood, Texas. Seemingly all the possible root causes of such a horrific act of violence have been raised and discussed. However, there is an elephant in the room, and it’s something that should be obvious in this age of the school shooter pandemic.

We should be outraged at the failure of the investigative journalists, the psychiatric professionals, the medical community and the military spokespersons who seem to be studiously avoiding the major factor that helps to explain these senseless acts. Why would someone unexpectedly, irrationally and randomly shoot up a school, a workplace or, in this case, an army post? Why would someone who used to be known as a seemingly rational person suddenly perpetrate a gruesome, irrational act of violence?

The answer to the question, as demonstrated again and again in so many of such recent acts of “senseless” violence, is brain- and behavior-altering drugs.

You can read the rest of it here.

I can see his point, and I think it is a good idea to factor in the potentially dangerous effects of psychoactive drugs. But I also believe there are many layers to this, the effect of drugs being only one of them. Something(s) else contributed to pushing the shooter to that point. And I’m not sure we can fairly lay all the blame at the feet of the pharmaceuticals industry.

Whatever the cause of the rampage, this issue of pharma-gone-bad is of particular interest to me, because as a multiple-TBI survivor with a bunch of cognitive-behavioral issues, it could be all too easy for a “qualified” doctor or neurologist or psychiatrist to load me up with a bunch of pills and send me on my way. I consider myself unbelievably fortunate and blessed to be working with a neuropsychologist who is very wary of pharmaceuticals and approaches them as a last resort, when all else fails. They are also very happy when I come up with alternative solutions to my issues that work well and do not involve drugs —  like exercising regularly as an antidote for fatigue and drowsiness and a way to wake up fully in the morning.

Interestingly, my psychotherapist tends to come down on the side of drug therapies for individuals with attentional difficulties. I may have to cut them loose, if they turn out to start pressuring me to resort to drugs. If they so much as start hinting at me using them, simply because other approaches “don’t appear to work as effectively” I may have to have to reconsider working with them and seek help elsewhere. Who knows? I may even cut out the psychotherapy completely.

Hard to say, at this point. I think it’s been helping me in some ways… no, I’m pretty sure it has.

But I have been growing a little more leery of my shrink, over the past month or so. They seem more distant than they did at the start. They also have said some things to me over the past couple of sessions that don’t sit right with me, but I haven’t actually followed up on. I should probably do that, to clear the air. It’s hard for me to spend the time and money with someone who I think doesn’t believe me, or seems to be insinuating that I’m misrepresenting my difficulties to the rest of the world. I’m not sure if they think I’m worse off than I appear to be, or if they are just having a hard time, themself.

To be fair, they did suffer a devastating personal loss, last year about this time, so I think it may be messing with their head a little bit. They have definitely not been at their best, of late. So, I’ll cut them some slack, give it some more time, slow things down, and not let them pull any punches with me. We’ll see how it goes.

Bottom line (if there is one) is… mental health care providers can have problems, too. And those problems can get to them in some pretty serious ways.  I’m just glad my shrink isn’t trained in small arms — I’m assuming they aren’t — and that they don’t work in an environment where the use of firearms is part of the job.

My solution for TBI/PTSD rage

Anger (or out-and-out rage) is one of the places where my TBIs and PTSD intersect to cause real problems. I’ve been having some rage issues, lately. Getting worked up over little things — getting angry over nothing, really. Just getting angry. Temper, temper…

In the moment, my anger — my rage — seems completely justified. I feel with every cell in my being that I am entitled to be outraged. I am entitled to be angry. I validate my emotional experience, and I end up spiraling down into a deepening pit of anger, resentment, and acting out. Yelling. Making a fuss. Putting up a stink. And getting aggressive with whomever happens to be offending me at the moment.

This is not good. I’ve done it with police officers, and I’m lucky I didn’t get cited. Or arrested. I’ve done it with family members, and it’s cost me plenty, in terms of peace of mind and my relationships. I’ve done it with co-workers, and it strained our connections to the point of breaking.

Not good.

But lately, I’ve been able to pull myself out of my downward spiral before it gets too much of a hold on me. I’ve started doing some basic things that stop the progression of rage before it picks up so much speed it’s like a runaway freight train.

First, I recognize that I’m angry, and I am convinced that I’m right about being angry. This might not seem like a big thing, but I have trouble figuring out how I’m feeling sometimes, and anger is one of those emotions that I don’t always identify well. It just feels like a rush of energy — and while everyone around me knows I’m pissed off, I usually can’t tell what’s going on with me until it’s progressed to a really problematic point. I recognize that I’m angry, and I remember that I need to not let myself get carried away.

Second, I step away. I take a time-out and just walk away. I stop myself from saying what I’m about to say, no matter how badly I want to say it. I tell myself, I’ll give it some thought and figure out how to say it exactly the way I want to say it. I tell myself… anything … just to extract myself from the situation. I step away, telling myself I’ll come back when I’m better able to express myself.

Third, I take some deep breaths.  This helps stimulate my parasympathetic nervous system, which is the part of the nervous system that chills you out. The sympathetic nervous system is what gets you worked up to respond to a crisis situation — and when I get really angry, it’s often because I think and feel like I’m in a crisis situation, and my body is getting all geared up for fight or flight (more often fight). I consciously take some deep breaths to get my parasympathetic nervous system to chill out.

Fourth, I seek out some kind of tactile stimulation. I need to get out of my head, which is spinning out of control, and just give myself a different point of focus. My head is going so madly, at this point, that I cannot even think straight, so I seek out some kind of physical sensation to get my mind off the madness. I press the side of my face against the cold side of a door that leads to the outside. I pick up something rough and rub my fingers along it. I jingle change in my pocket. Or I find something heavy and hold it. The physical sensation, along with the deep breathing, gets my mind off the crazy cycle it was in, just a minute ago, and it lets me focus on a single point — the feel of the cold door against my cheek or the feel of quarters and nickels and dimes juggling among my fingers. Tactile stimulation, like looking at a flame of a candle while meditating, helps me center and get my mind off that crazy downward cycle.

Fifth, I remind myself that my body and brain are playing tricks on me. I am probably not getting angry for the reasons I think I am — it’s my body that’s getting all worked up into a fight/flight/freeze state, and my mind is interpreting that as a real sign of DANGER. And I’m probably starting to panic a little, too. As a matter of fact, when I take an objective look at things, the rage that’s building inside of me might not even be real rage, rather a response to a hyperactive sympathetic nervous system response. It could very well be my body tricking my mind into thinking the wrong things. And I need to remember that I get to choose how I interpret my life. My mind gets to decide how I’m going to think about things, how I’m going to react. And my well-intentioned body, which thinks it needs help, is just misleading my brain into thinking that I have to do something about whatever it is that’s getting to me. When I remind myself that this is a physiological process that’s taking place, I am able to relax… and the anger subsides.

The thing I have to remember, when all this is coming down, is that It Is Not Worth It. No matter how justified my rage seems to be. No matter how entitled I am to be angry. No matter how wronged I may have  been. It is not worth it, to get so tweaked over things. When I go off on an anger “binge” I end up feeling really hungover and dumb and numb afterwards, which just makes my life more difficult, once it’s passed.

I’m no doctor, but I suspect that it may be connected with the mechanics of panic/anxiety… all that post-traumatic stress stewing in a pot, and my TBI brain being unable to sort it all out in a timely fashion… My processing speed is slower than I’d like, and by the time I figure out what’s going on, the damage is often done.

So, I do my best to recognize when I’m getting angry, I step away, I take some deep breaths and try to relax, and I do something that gets my body’s attention — like feeling something cold or rough or tactile in some way. And I remind myself that my brain and body are playing tricks on me again. They’ve done it before… and they’ll do it again.

Building my cognitive-behavioral exoskeleton

MTBI can do a lot of damage, in terms of shredding your existing skills and long-accustomed habits. It can really undermine your thinking and judgment, so that you never even realize you need to do things differently than you did before. And it requires that you force your brain (and sometimes body) to push harder and harder, even when every indication around (and inside) you is saying, “Let up… let up…”

This can be very confounding. I encounter — all the time — people who are keen on “taking it easy” and doing things “with ease and grace”. They think this is a sign of superior evolution. They think this is a sign of superior character, as though it means they are more “plugged in with the Universe”. They don’t want to have to expend the effort to get things done. They want Spirit/YHWH/God/Creator to do it for them. They don’t want to take a chance and extend themselves, because they are convinced that a Higher Power is more capable than they, and they believe they should just “get out of the way” and let that Higher Power take charge of their lives.

That may be fine for them, but that mindset drives me nuts. First of all, it absolves them of any responsibility for their actions. If things mess up, they can say it was “God’s will” or part of a “higher plan”. If things get really messed up, they can say they just need to be more “in tune with Spirit”.  I have a bunch of friends who are convinced that they are “channels” for Divine Inspiration, and that’s how they should live… just floating along on a tide of holy impulse. And their lives are a shambles. Objectively speaking, they are constantly marinating in a brine of their individual dramas and traumas. It’s just one thing after another, and all the while, they keep expecting Spirit/YHWH/God/Creator to fix all the messes they’ve helped create.

It’s very frustrating to watch this willful disregard of basic cause and effect, but I suppose everybody’s got their stuff.

Now, it’s one thing, if these people (some of whom are very dear to me) are content to live their lives that way, but when they expect me to do the same — and they judge me as being less “evolved” if I do things differently — it’s a little too much to take, sometimes. I don’t do well with living my life from a distance. I don’t do well with telling myself that I’m just floating along on the divine breeze, waiting for some wonderful opportunity to arise to save me from my own creations. I need to be involved in my own life. I need to be invested. I need to put some effort into my life. I need the exertion. It’s good for my spirit. It’s good for my morale. And it bolsters my self-esteem, as well.

Anyway, even if I wanted to just float along, I couldn’t. I’d sink like a rock. I’m not being hard on myself — this is my observation from years of experience. I can’t just ramble about, taking things as they come. I need structure and discipline to keep on track, to keep out of trouble, to keep my head on straight. I can’t just be open to inspiration and follow whatever impulse comes to mind. My mind is full of countless impulses, every hour of every day, and if I followed each and every one, I’d be so far out in left field, I’d never find my way back. I have had sufficient damage done to the fragile connections in my cerebral matter, that the routes that neural information takes have been permanently re-routed into the darkest woods and jungles of my brain. All those injuries over the years didn’t just wash out a few bridges — they blew them up. And they slashed and burned the jungle all around, and dug huge trenches across the neural byways I “should” be able to access.

As my diagnostic neuropsych says, “I am not neurologically intact.”

So that kind of disqualifies me for just winging it in my life. I tried for years to “go with the flow”, and I ended up flit-flitting about like a dried oak leaf on the wild October wind. I got nowhere. I can’t live like that, and I know it for sure, now that I’m intentionally trying to get myself in some kind of order. My brain is different. It has been formed differently than others. It has been formed differently than it was supposed to.

I can’t change that. But I can change how I do things. I can change how I think about things. I can change by facing up to basic facts. As in:

  • My thinking process is not a fluid one, anymore. In fact, I’m not sure it ever was — for real, that is. I’ve consistently found that when I’ve been the most certain about things, was the time when I needed most to double-check.
  • If I don’t extend myself to get where I’m going, I can end up sidelining myself with one minor failure after another. One by one, the screw-ups add up, and I end up just giving up, out of exhaustion and/or ex-/implosion… and I can end up even farther behind than when I started.
  • It’s like nothing internal is working the way it’s supposed to, and the standard-issue ways of thinking and doing just don’t seem to hold up.
  • My brain is different from other folks. It just is. It doesn’t have to be a BAD thing. It just is.

On bad days, it’s pretty easy for me to get down on myself. I feel broken and damaged and useless, some days — usually when I’m overtired and haven’t been taking care of myself. But on good days, I can see past all that wretchedness and just get on with it.

Part of my getting on with it is thinking about how we MTBI survivors can compensate for our difficulties… how we create and use tools to get ourselves back on track — and stay there. There are lots of people who have this kind of injury, and some of them/us figure out what tools work best for us, and we make a point of using them. These exterior tools act as supports (or substitutes) for our weakened internal systems. We use planners and notebooks and stickie notes. We use self-assessment forms and how-to books and motivational materials. We use prayer and reflection ane meditation and journaling. We use exercise and brain games. We use crossword puzzles and little daily challenges we come up with by ourselves.

Some of us — and I’m one such person — use our lives as our rehab. Not all of us can afford rehab (in terms of time or money), and not all of us can even get access to it (seeing as our injuries tend to be subtle and the folks who actually know what to do about them are few and far between). But we have one thing we can use to learn and live and learn some more — life. The school of hard knocks.

I use everything I encounter to further my recovery. I have to. I don’t want to be homeless. I don’t want to be stuck in underemployment. I don’t want to fade away to nothing. And that’s what could easily happen, if I let up. My friends who are into “ease and grace” don’t get this. But then, they’re embroiled in their own dramas, so they don’t really see what’s going on with me. Even my therapist encourages me to “take it easy” a lot more than I’m comfortable doing. (They’ve only known me for about seven months, so they don’t have a full appreciation of all the crap I have to deal with, so I’ll cut them a break.)

It stands to reason that others can’t tell what difficulties I have. After all, I’ve made it my personal mission to not let my injuries A) show to others, B) impact my ability to function in the present, and C) hold me back from my dreams. I may be unrealistic, and I may be just dreaming, but I’m going to hold to that, no matter what. I can’t let this stop me. None of it – the series of falls, the car accidents, the sports concussions, the attack… None of it is going to stop me, if I have anything to say about it. I just have to keep at it, till I find a way to work through/past/around my issues.

And to do that, I use tools. I keep notes. I write in my journal. I blog. I have even been able to read with comprehension for extended periods, lately, which was beyond my reach for a number of years. I keep lists of things I need to do. I come up with ways of jogging my memory. I play games that improve my thinking. I focus on doing good work, and doing well at the good work I’m involved in. I bring a tremendous amount of mindfulness to the things I care about, and I’m constantly looking for ways to improve. To someone with less restlessness and less nervous energy, it would be an exhausting prospect to life this way. But I have a seemingly endless stream of energy that emanates from a simmering sense of panic, and a constantly restless mind, so  I have to do something with it.

Some might recommend medication to take the edge off. But that, dear reader, would probably land me in hot water. Without my edge, I fade away to a blob of ineffectual whatever-ness.

I build myself tools. I use spreadsheets to track my progress. I downloaded the (free and incredibly helpful) Getting Things Done Wiki and installed it on my laptop to track my projects and make sure I don’t forget what I’m supposed to be working on. I have even built myself a little daily activity tracking tool that I use to see if any of my issues are getting in my way. It not only lets me track my issues, but it also helps me learn the database technologies I need to know for my professional work.

I am constantly thinking about where I’m at, what I’m doing, why I’m doing it. I am rarely at rest, and when I am, it is for the express purpose of regaining my strength so I can go back at my issues with all my might and deal directly with them. I am at times not the most organized with my self-rehab, but I’m making progress. And I track what I’m doing, to make sure I’m not getting too far afield. And I check in with my neuropsychs on a weekly basis.

I also use external props to keep me in line. I build exercise and nutrition into my daily routine, so I have no choice but do do them — if I break my routine, I’m lost. The anxiety level is just too high. I commit myself to meetings that require me to be in a certain place at a certain time, so I have to keep on schedule. I work a 9-5 job that forces me to be on-time and deliver what I promise. I surround myself with people who have very high standards, and I hold myself to them. As I go about my daily activities, I do it with the orientation of recovery. Rehabilitation. Life is full of rehab opportunities, if you take the time — and make the point — to notice.

In many ways, my external tool-making and structure-seeking is like being a hermit crab finding and using shells cast off by other creatures for their survival. I don’t have the kind of inner resources I’d like to keep myself on track, and I don’t have the innate ability/desire to adhere to the kinds of standards I know are essential for regular adult functioning. I’ve been trying, since I was a little kid, to be the kind of person I want to be, and it’s rarely turned out well when I was running on my own steam.

So, I put myself in external situations and engage in the kinds of activities that require me to stay on track and adhere to the kinds of standards I aspire to. I seek out the company of people who are where I want to be — or are on the same track that I want to be on. And I “make like them” — I do my utmost to match them, their behaviors, their activities. And it works. I do a damned good impression of the person I want to be — even when deep down inside, I’m having a hell of a time adhering to my own standards.

The gap between who I want to be/what I want to do with my life, and how I actually am and what I actually accomplish is, at times, a vast chasm. I have so many weak spots that feel utterly intractable — and I need to do something about them. So, I use the outside world to provide the impetus and stimulation I require to be the person I know I can be, and to accomplish the things I long to do. I use the supports I can get, and I use whatever tools I have on hand. I fashion the world around me in a way that supports my vision of who I can be and what I can accomplish in my life. and I just keep going, layering on more and more experiential “shellack” that supports my hopes and dreams and vision.

Dear reader, if you only knew how different my fondest hopes and most brightly burning dreams have been from my actual reality throughout the course of my 4 decades-plus on this earth, you would weep for days, maybe weeks. But this is not the time to cry. Not when I have within my reach the means by which to put myself on the track I long for. Not when I have the resolve to take my life to the next level. Not when I have — at long last — the information I need to understand my limitations and my cognitive-behavioral makeup. Not when I have the drive and desire to live life to the fullest, to love and grow and learn and … and …

But enough — the day is waiting, and I have things I must get done.

Peace, out

BB

Yes, I’m back…

Well, that was interesting…

I stepped away from regular posting for a little while, thinking that I was going to make a change (a number of changes, actually) in how and when I write, how and when I post, and what I write and post about. My motivation was the intent to err on the side of caution, as I was starting to feel, well, exposed by all these posts. I’ve shared a lot of personal information here, and frankly, it started to spook me out a bit. It’s always been my intention to speak fairly personally here, to share details about my life that might be considered “intimate” by some, but to just let it all hang out, because when it comes to personal health issues, especially TBI, there aren’t a lot of sources that speak directly to us as human beings, and put a real face on our experiences.

All too often (especially given the state of healthcare in the US at this time), we are assigned patient IDs, given little plastic cards with our numbers on them, added to hospital and clinic databases, issued either a prescription for pills or told to ‘get more exercise’ and more actively control our stress. That’s if we get any help at all. Lots and lots of us never get the help we need when we need it – or if we get it, it’s not till much, much later, after considerable damage has been done. And we’re left to struggle along, muddle through, and generally find our way by trial and error.

It’s been my hope that this blog would help alleviate some of that. Give people a bit of hope. Offer my own experiences as a resource for others who don’t know where to turn. It hasn’t been perfect, by any stretch. But as of today, I’ve had 35,928 different page views. Not bad, for about 18 months of work.

And when I announced that I was going to be shifting my focus (I wasn’t really specific), I did hear from some folks about how they wished I wouldn’t go away and quit keeping this blog. It gave me pause. And over coffee this morning, I decided, “Oh, what the hell — I’m come this far, why pull out now?”

Interestingly, a lot of the page views are for posts I wrote many months ago, so the content has value for people (apparently) beyond the immediate moment when I write it. That’s one of my goals — to have “evergreen” material here that people can find useful, even if they are stumbling across the info many months after I first wrote it. These issues of ours are, unfortunately, very tenacious, and they don’t go away.  So, as long as I’m not a complete and total narcissist about this, and do it just for ego-casting, it makes sense for me to continue.

So, given that I believe in this work, and others have told me it’s needed, I’ve decided to restore my past posts for folks who are looking for info on dealing with mild TBI or PTSD. It’s pretty important work, whether or not I’m doing it. And I realized over the past days of not doing it, how much I love it. It’s not just about me and my life — it’s about chronicling human experience and finding workable solutions to tenacious problems, to share with others.

I do love the work, so yes, I’m back.

Now, I need to tell you why I pulled away so abruptly in the first place.

There are several reasons, which are actually closely related — and everyone who does health research and posting online needs to think about this very carefully. Please pay attention to this, as it may pertain to you, as well.

First, there are basic survival issues at stake.

I’m in a position where I may need to look for a new job in another three months or so. My COBRA-supported health insurance stops being subsidized at the end of this year, which means my health insurance costs are going to more than triple.  I have been offered lower cost coverage, but it doesn’t provide ample coverage for me, and I cannot, under any circumstances, get lousy health insurance, if I’m going to continue to see my neuropsych and psychotherapist.

The job I am in now, which is just a contract, may not pay me the money I need to keep going, so that means, I need to do some hard thinking about what work I do for a living. I have been needing to branch out from what I’ve been doing, for the past 15 years, and see where else my technical skills can take me. I need to update my skillset and expand my resume and portfolio, and that takes time. It takes time to keep this blog. I have regularly spent the first hour or two of most days in the week posting here, and that is time I could be spending on developing my skills.

I have a hell of a time keeping focused and sharp. I only have so many resources, and I only have so much energy. I need to feed my family and keep a roof over our heads, and I have to take my professional performance to the next level. That means something may have to give, and until this morning, I was convinced it was this blog. I only have time for really essential things, these days — given how much longer it takes me to read and comprehend and learn and keep my act together (compared to how I was before I fell in 2004), I have to carefully pick and choose what I do, and save my best energy for my most lucrative and financially beneficial activities.

More on this later…

The second reason I decided to give up this blog, was because of privacy issues and my concerns over this information working against me in this job market.

Let’s face it, traumatic brain injury is not the sort of thing that most employers embrace wholeheartedly. It’s highly stigmatized and people just do not understand it. It’s one thing, if you’re a veteran returning from the front lines of the War On Terror, and you come back after having been head-injured in a roadside IED blast while safeguarding our freedom. That’s something that (many) people can see as worthy of respect and consideration. People support troops. They have compassion for victims of insurgent attacks — Important Note: Please don’t think I am making light of combat TBI, or assuming that every returning soldier gets the full compassion and cooperation from the normal world upon their return. I only wish it were so. — But a traumatic brain injury sustained in a car accident or a fall down some stairs or having something fall on your head is harder to explain as the serious issue it can be — especially when popular culture (including Pepsi during the Super Bowl) makes light of head injury and promotes the perception that you can just shake it off, say “I’m OK — I’m good” and everything is hunky dory.

Even if people do understand that TBI (mild, moderate, or severe) can cause tremendous difficulties at the start, plenty of folks are of the belief that things should just sort themselves out over time. Indeed, many neurologists believe just that — including one I had the misfortune to visit when I was just starting out on this serious diagnostic/rehab quest of mine.

Now, given the types of information I have posted here, and given the breadth and depth of my own issues which I have willingly and eagerly chronicled here, I am admittedly putting myself in a very vulnerable position. No joke. Every so often, news comes out of some blogger being “outed” by their hosting service, because they’ve said something that pissed off someone with a vested interest in what they were discussing. And that blogger — like Valerie Plame — is exposed and banished from their position and/or blog. Recently, a Scottish policeman who blogged very candidly about his work, was exposed and dismissed from his job, and down came the blog. Which was a loss for everyone, especially him.

I have no interest in repeating his performance. I want to speak freely and do my part to support others, but at what potential cost? I’ve got to keep the money coming in. I have a grown-up life in the grown-up world, and I have a family to support. Thinking about the possibility of being fingered and stigmatized by what folks read here spooked me pretty badly, so I decided to back off the posting.

Third, all this personal health/medical information floating around online might not be such a great idea.

I mean, seriously. This whole “Health 2.0 — community-driven health research and open-source information sharing” strikes me as possibly the worst idea to come along since, oh, the collusion of church and state. There are many health information sites and communities which give people the chance to post personal information about their health concerns as well as engage in discussions with others. Some of the conditions are serious, some of them are relatively benign. But they are all personal. And lots and lots of people are not very careful about hiding their identities when they post to them. In my visits to various Health 2.0 sites, I see a lot of people using their real names, talking about their real conditions, and I wonder if they realize their information is visible to as many people as it is — including potential employers and insurers… not to mention the government.

Now, I am not a conspiracy theorist, and I’m not the kind of person who thinks the government is out to get us all, in some Matrix-movie-type of blue-pill-induced power grab, where everyone is walking around like zombies, feeding the machine unwittingly with their vital life force. I think real life is a lot more complicated than that. But I do believe that if unscrupulous individuals and organizations have free access to lots of personal information, they have plenty of opportunity to do unscrupulous things with that data.  It’s not a question of the right people having access to the right information (like members of a forum or online community) or the wrong people having access to the wrong information (like private investigators trying to dig up dirt on genuinely injured people who the insurance company doesn’t want to cover). It’s a question of all the information being accessible to any people who care to get at it.

And believe you me, people who really want to get to it, will. It’s not that hard — either they can do it by trickery (like in phishing emails from Big Banks that have links to them pointing to some .ru website that looks really official), or they can do it by hackery. I’m not paranoid. I’m just a highly experienced information technology veteran who has been active in a highly regulated and highly sensitive sector for quite some time. Wait — maybe I am paranoid 😉 Can you blame me?

Anyway, the thought that my own personal information is floating around out there — albeit in an anonymous fashion — sorta kinda spooked me, so I yanked it in a hurry, one frantic afternoon. I hadn’t been sleeping well, I was in a lot of pain, and I was contemplating the prospect of a potential employer finding out all about me and saying, “Why the hell would I hire some washed-up, brain-damaged has-been who runs around telling everyone how much difficulty they have doing basic stuff? Where’s the ROI on that?” In my mind, my whole way of life was seriously threatened, and I had to do somethign to take the pressure off.

So, I disappeared. And I thought it would make me feel better.

But, as you can see, it didn’t. I felt like I’d abandoned my post. I felt like I’d deserted those  who trusted me, and I felt like a total loser.

So, I turned around and came back. And here I am.

I am still a bit uncomfortable with being this vulnerable, but it’s the only way that really works for me. The truth is not a simple thing, and the full range of human experience is not a cut-and-dried, clean and tidy topic. It’s messy. It’s inconvenient. It’s exposing. It’s vulnerable. And at its very best, when it’s done properly and honestly, it turns us all into deeply fragile creatures whose lives literally hang by a thread at times.

Le’ts be honest, people. The very fact that a lot of us are alive is proof of miracles. The fact that any of us emerges from the womb with 10 fingers and 10 toes and all our organs intact, is nothing less than amazing. The very fact that countless people, over the course of human history, have been terribly, terribly injured — both within and without — and yet have survived, or even thrived, is further proof that we frankly don’t know shit about how everything is put together, and trying to come up with pat answers or reduce the deepest mysteries of the human spirit to reproducible, mechanized formulas is an exercise in futility.

Certainly, we will never stop trying to decode life’s intricacies, but deep down inside, we all have to admit that there’s way too much mystery surrounding us, for any of our arbitrary rules to apply for long.

So, that being said, I’m going to reverse my former position and venture back out into the light of day with this blog. I am still very concerned by the Health 2.0 movement to get everyone to put their health information online. Google Health, and other publicly available patient records management programs, scare the living daylights out of me. And the fact that people are embracing this innately non-secure, non-private, non-controllable new trend — which can have personally devastating consequences for individuals whose privacy is compromised — worries me deeply.

But I’m still going to keep blogging. I’m still going to keep talking.  Above all, I’m not going to stop believing that the power of the mind and the human spirit can — and do — work together to triumph over the injuries of the brain.