head injury just sits in front of tv

My "friend" in times of need - not

Somebody searched on this yesterday and came to my blog. In the midst of all the search engine queries about “difference between mild and severe concussion / head injury” and “do concussions make you dumber” and various sensitivities questions, this one jumped out at me:

head injury just sits in front of tv

Because that’s exactly what I feel like doing today. I just want to sit in front of the tv and not bother with anything. I don’t want to do chores, I don’t want to take the trash out, I don’t want to deal with setting mousetraps for the winter refugees in my basement, I don’t want to look at bills, I don’t want to winterize the house, I don’t want to do any of it, and I don’t want to be reminded of any of it.

I want to go back to bed and stay there for days… weeks… months… I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want to interact, I don’t want to have any conversations, I don’t want to see or hear or speak to anyone. Just the tv and me. Watching stupid stuff all day long and not caring about a thing.

Am I depressed? Not exactly. I’m just a bit overwhelmed, and I can’t seem to get out of this rut I’ve gotten into, after my last tbi. It didn’t start out that way — I was really manic and GO-GO-GO for several years before everything caught up with me. But over time things obviously started to fall apart — it was even obvious to me — and it got to the point where everything became so utterly inescapable, that I had to do something, or I was going to lose it ALL. Everything I’ve worked so hard for, everything I’ve earned. I’d lost enough, before I realized that something was really wrong.

When I realized it and started dealing with it all, and I started to develop strategies and techniques for handling everything, things got better for a while, and I felt like I was able to handle the most fundamental basic parts of my life on a regular basis. Things started to make sense again, and I recouped a lot that I’d lost.

But now it’s been a couple of years since I leveled out, and I’m starting to feel like I’m drowning again. I’ve been having these intense flashes of rage under circumstances — when I’m in traffic, or when I’m dealing with someone who is getting under my skin. These intense waves of violent anger and rage well up and crash over me, and it’s all I can do, to keep myself in check. Sometimes they seem to come out of nowhere, and it’s very disconcerting when that happens. I’ve kept it together for the most part, and I haven’t done anything that will land me in hot water. But it’s still pretty upsetting to experience this as intensely as I do.

Things at work are a real problem for me, but it looks like I’m going to need to stay there for a while longer. The job interview earlier this week did not pan out. First off, the salary that was posted was nowhere near what it really was — a glitch on the job board, apparently. Plus, during the interview, I heard a distinctly disgruntled tone in my voice, which did not put me in a very good light. Also, the person interviewing me noticed that I’d had a bunch of short-term or one-year assignments over the past five years, which made them understandably nervous. Why would they hire someone who isn’t going to be able to stick it out over the long term?

Why indeed?

So, as it turned out, the interview was a very useful experience for me. It’s a good thing that the money was too low, because I got the impression that they would not have brought me on, even if the money had been right. I definitely let my attitude get the worst of me, which is not good. I need to check that for next time, certainly. And I need to get clear about exactly how I’m going to present myself. Dignified is a good look for me. If I’m going to “suit up” then I need to act the part, as well.

So, it’s all a learning experience. And I’m willing and able to take steps to make right the things that have been turned around, or that I messed up. And I’m really glad I went to the interview, because it’s excellent experience and practice.

I’ve started keeping a log of my issues again. I started again this morning, with my list of issues that I developed several years ago.

Here they are again:

Daily Experiences Journal (Wide) – Word Document

Daily Experiences Journal – PDF for printing and filling in by hand

I’ve actually taken the contents and put them into a spreadsheet, which is easier for me to work with. My handwriting has gotten a bit worse over time (I blame all the typing), so it’s hard for me to write as legibly as I’d like. So, I type my observations in there. Also, having them in a spreadsheet helps me organize them all in one place, instead of having individual sheets of paper for everything.

And an interesting thing happens when I write down what’s going on with me — I don’t feel worse or feel like I’m crazy. I actually feel more sane, because I can see that this situation is real — not for the sake of feeling sorry for myself, but for the sake of checking in with myself and just find out where I’m at.

I also feel more like getting up and going out and doing something with myself. When I track what’s going on with me and write down what I’m doing about these things, I feel like I’m better able to manage my situation and address the different aspects of it, as they all come up. And that helps to get me out of my funk. And it gets me back into my life.

Oh, I still want to just sit in front of the television and veg out to some extent. But I feel a LOT less like that than I do when I’m not tracking.

A little knowledge can go a long way, especially when it’s used properly. And I don’t let it get the best of me.

My early-morning brain treatment

A few days back, I was mulling my morning routine and how to fix it. I tend to wake up aroung 5-6 a.m., which gives me an early start on the day. I often jump out of bed with lots of energy and feeling like I’m rarin’ to go. But then I usually get bogged down in some activity or another — checking email or writing or fiddling with some piece of information. I might wake up early, but I end up running late. And although I have lots of physical energy, I rarely feel mentally awake until much later in the day… sometimes not till 3 p.m. Not feeling mentally awake makes it difficult to get into the day, let alone enjoy my life as it comes.

I don’t much care for the feeling of a foggy head, first thing in the morning. It’s a part of my life that I guess I have to accept on some level, as my brain has been rewired to move more slowly than I’d like. But I really don’t care for  it, mentally or logistically. My team at work has a status meeting first thing each Monday a.m., and for the past couple of months, I’ve been either late or too rushed to prepare properly. That’s a lousy way to start a Monday. It has a crappy snowball effect on the rest of my day. And the rest of the week.

This will never do. I mean, honestly… it’s just embarrassing. For months on end, I’ve been trying to get to work early in the morning, on Mondays and beyond. No go. And work isn’t the only place this is a problem. For weeks on end, I’d been trying to get some very basic stuff done — contact the insurance companies who are handling my fender-bender from June (yes, it happened over a month ago, and as of two days ago, I had yet to finish the paperwork), give certain parts of the house a long-overdue scrubbing, take the trash to the dump, mow the lawn, and so forth. A collection of standard-issue weekend tasks and some extra outstanding things needed to be done — they’re not optional — but they have gone undone. Like I said, this will never do.

So, yesterday I told myself enough was enough, and I decided to try something different… something I have been meaning to do for many, many months. I decided to exercise first thing in the morning when I got up. Not after I had my cup of coffee. Not after I had my cereal and fruit. But first thing. Being somewhat neurotic about getting my coffee first thing, I promised myself I would at least put the kettle on before I started my workout. I promised myself I would turn the stove on medium, then exercise while I was waiting for my coffee water to boil. And (hopefully) to make getting my day under control a little easier, I decided I would devote the 20-30 minutes of my workout to thinking about what I had to get done that day… Thinking through the stuff on my to-do list, planning how I would get it all done that day. Basically mapping out my day.

I was skeptical, at first, thinking that getting on the exercise bike was going to be boring and drab and monotonous. But you know what? While I was pedaling away, my mind was waking up and getting into the day. While I was pedaling, I was going over the things I needed to do — things I didn’t really look forward to doing, like fill out paperwork, but had to be done. I thought through the act of doing each thing.

I thought about my paperwork — how I would take it step-by-step, first getting out the forms, double-checking the info there, filling in what was missing, making copies, signing them, adding a cover letter, and mailing them out.

I thought about my morning chores — cleaning and taking out trash and running to the store to pick up food for the dinner party we were having last night. I walked myself through each of the things I was supposed to do — and I threw in a nap for good measure. Pedaling and pedaling, I found myself not at all bored, but actually quite energized. And you know what? My brain was thinking better, first thing in the morning, than it had in quite some time.

By the time I got off the bike, I not only had a plan for my day, but I had thoroughly visualized overcoming all the tricky pieces that I thought might keep me from succeeding. I had a visual of my to-do list in the back of my head, and I had “road map” for all the different pieces of my day. I had effectively “choreographed” my day so that I had a pretty good idea what I could expect to get done (and what wasn’t going to get done), and I had a pretty good idea how I was going to handle things, when they came up. I had a common-sense plan for what order to do things in — do the messy chores before I took my shower, and then take a nap after my shower (hot showers always relax me and make me sleepy)… and wake up refreshed and with all my chores done before company came for dinner.

And you know what? It worked. After I got off the bike, I actually felt energized and awake. That’s rare. The blood pumping and the sweat I’d worked up, really cleared my mind. And as I got into my day, I found that I was able to not only get the really critical things done, but I managed to quickly take care of a few jobs I usually do at a fairly leisurely pace on Sunday mornings. That meant that I gave myself Sunday morning off, ahead of time… which meant that I could relax with our company on Saturday night, and not fret about staying up later than I would normally. My Sunday morning tasks were already done, so I would have more time to rest and relax, if I needed a Sunday afternoon nap (which I usually do).

All this, because I got on the bike and rode, first thing in the a.m., with the express intention of planning my day. Not only did I finally manage to exercise, first thing in the morning — which I’ve been trying to do for many months — but I also took command of my day — and my life. The exercise helped oxygenate my brain and it helped focus the kinetic energy I have in the a.m. into something I could use, that served me well.

For good measure, I did it again today. Once more, I felt myself waking up more, feeling clearer, and able to handle my morning tasks better than usual.  Something so simple — 20-30 minutes of aerobic exercise (I do work up a sweat and get my heart beating faster) — makes a huge difference.

Best of all, I don’t have to stop my life completely to do it. Years ago, when I was working out regularly, I used to have to completely halt all my activity to go to the gym or go for a run. That was fine then, when I didn’t have as many responsibilities as I do now, but nowadays I’ve got so much going on, that just stopping everything to exercise isn’t an attractive option. But now my morning exercise bike ride can be part of my active life, part of my day, part of my “personal planning and strategy sessions” that help me live my life that much better.

I’m sure it sounds elementary to some people, and there are plenty of folks who already know this. But this “discovery” that I don’t have to halt my life and stop everything I’m doing to fit in exercise, and that the exercise actually adds to my productivity (rather than takes away from it), is something I’m really reveling in. It is good.

Watching Kung Fu Movies and Wondering…

One of my favorite things to do as a teenager, was watch Kung Fu movies on rainy Saturday afternoons. I had an active childhood, so if the weather was nice, I was usually outside. But on rainy days, the next best thing to be running around raising hell, was watching other people do it — and with poorly synchronized dubbing.

I just loved those movies, and I watched another one last night.. while eating Chinese take-out, which was perfect.

Now, it’s Saturday afternoon, and I’m hankering for watching more.

And thinking back to the movie last night, I remember noticing how very many times people in the movie got hit on the head, smacked in the face, pounded and knocked around. They all got back up immediately, of course, and went right back into the fray. And their characters never seemed to show any sign of diminshed capacity after their rigorously violent battles.

I enjoyed the movie, but I found myself cringing a lot while I watched. Knowing what I know about brain injuries and how even a minor impact can cause larger problems on down the line (which is a lot more than I knew when I was a kid), I have to wonder if it’s really such a good idea to consider that sort of thing “entertainment”.

Still, I must admit that I really do enjoy watching the fighting. The choreography. The physical prowess. The warriorship. It’s very cool. And I have to wonder, at the same time, if head trauma isn’t actually just a part of the human experience that we somehow have forgotten how to accommodate or heal in our modern society.

When I think back about the past 10,000 years of human history, I come across a lot of warfare and conflict… burning and pillaging and pitched battles… invasions and conflicts… many of them hand-to-hand, not conducted at a distance with computers and remote controls. If you think about it, human history is full of head trauma, from the injuries sustained just by working jobs of hard labor — as in, most work that was done, until about 50 years ago, when so many of us migrated to inside work — but from fighting and falls and accidents and warfare that just kept coming in waves and waves of invaders.

Truly, human history has been fraught with head injuries, and the complications therefrom have probably  had a greater impact on our species’ experience than we realize.

That being said, I have to believe that head injuries are meant to be survived. If they weren’t, we’d probably all be dead — or would have never been born.

I mean, think about it — how many soldiers have come back from how many wars, with headaches and cognitive issues and mood disorders and PTSD, and still got re-integrated into society? I can think of a lot of WWII and Korean War veterans who did. In fact, I suspect that the elder generation of soldiers had a far higher incidence of head injury than they let on. But because of their cultural training and expectations, they didn’t let on. I’ve known WWII veterans who — upon close scrutiny — had the hallmarks of TBI. And yet, they participated in society, married, raised kids, had careers…

And how many children throughout history were beaten by other kids or adults, or had falls or accidents… sustained head injuries, went on to lead regular lives? Lots and lots, I believe.

Like the fighters who were on my t.v. screen last night, I’m quite sure that many, many people throughout history have had head injuries, but continued on in spite of them. Some may have fared better than others — I’m sure of it. But they fared. Hit on the head or not, they fared.

And so do I.

But still, I don’t go looking for a fight.

And I can’t help but cringe, when someone lands a hard punch and knocks someone out.

My mission for this blog – and our veterans

Well, Veternan’s Day came and went without my blogging about it, and I regret that.

In truth, I was all caught up in my own pity-pot, feeling sorry for myself and all the difficulties I’ve been having, lately. I’ve been dealing with some unexpected health issues, and I’ve been tired, so I let that get the best of me.

To all the brave wounded warrriors and able-bodied veterans and active soldiers of our great nation, the United States of America, I offer my most sincere apologies.

And I offer you my thanks and deepest gratitude. There are no words to express how much I value your commitment and valor and tireless sense of duty.

I must  — we must all — never forget that no matter what our difficulties in this amazing country of ours, countless committed, courageous individuals have made tremendous sacrifices of life and limb and mind and body and heart and soul to let us all have those difficulties in the protection and safety of a country where we can actually turn things around — both for ourselves and others.

This is America. There is no end to our story.

That being said, I am renewing my commitment to this blog, especially for the sake of our soldiers. In the course of my life, those who have been kindest and most courteous and most helpful to me, have been either active or former members of the armed services. The co-workers who most quickly went to bat for me, when I was down, were former soldiers. The colleagues who held their own the best and worked with me most closely as vital team members, were often from a military background. The most open-hearted and dignified and courteous and considerate co-workers I’ve had, hailed from the Service.

My life has been personally enriched by these individuals, whom I’ve been honored to work with.

Now, as so many return to this civilian life and struggle with the aftermath of blasts and head injuries and other neurological issues that are all too seldom recognized, diagnosed, and properly treated, I must do something. As a long-term multiple TBI survivor. As someone who knows what it’s like to not have anyone understand why you’re having such a hard time at such “simple” things. As someone who knows from personal experience that it is possible to survive hidden injuries, it is possible to live a good life even if your brain doesn’t work right, and it is possible to give and receive love and support in the world and have a future… even if the rest of the world doesn’t believe you do. What do they know, anyway?

I can’t do nearly as much as I’d like, but I can do this thing called, talk about my life. And so I shall. Because the men and women who make the ultimate sacrifice for us, deserve far more than they’re receiving — and that includes information.

So, if you’re an active duty soldier or a veteran or you live with or love someone who is, I offer this blog to you in hopes that you can see past the darkness that may surround you and see there is light ahead. It may be a ways off, and it may not be very visible right now, but it is there.

I wouldn’t be here, if it weren’t.

I have started an art gallery to explain my tbi experiences

In the course of working through my tbi issues over the past year, I’ve realized that words alone aren’t always the best way to communicate what’s going on with me. I grew up in a very verbal household — both of my parents are avid readers, and I was often found with my nose in book. I never thought of myself as an artist — my younger siblings were the “artistic” ones. I wrote stories and I focused more on words (perhaps because the act of hand-writing uses parts of the brain that are related to impulse control, and I instinctively new I needed to develop that part of my brain).

What I didn’t realize (till my mother told me within the last year) was that as a child, I had a very advanced visual “intelligence”. I drew pictures as a young kid that incorporated elements that weren’t usually seen until later in one’s development. In some ways I was a prodigy… but I think that changed, when I started to have head injuries… so that my skills and abilities were hidden behind the difficulties I had, and they were not actively developed.

In the past year, I’ve found myself drawing and painting A LOT. And I’ve found that when I draw and paint, I am actually better able to think about certain things, than if I just use words. I’ve also found myself remembering events from my life that had escaped me for many years. There’s something about the color and shapes that triggers my memories. And it also brings up a lot of emotion.

I’ve started an Imagekind Gallery (tbi-survivor.imagekind.com/art/) where my artworks can be found. I only have one piece up there, right now, and it shows how I see my back yard. But there will be more coming.

I’m pretty excited about this new development — both as a way for me to express myself and show the world I live in, and to help educate people about what it’s like to live with the after-effects of mild traumatic brain injuries.

Imagekind offers prints of my work on paper and on canvas. I hope you’ll pay a visit.

TBI Symptom of the Day: Auditory (Hyper) Sensitivity

I’m not sure what’s going on with me, these days, but I have been hearing just about everything around me much more acutely and loudly and with a lot more detail, than I recall in the past. Listening to the radio, I hear all these different aspects of the music that I normally don’t… I hear the individual instruments in the background, all of them in distinct detail… to the point where it doesn’t even sound like a single song, anymore, but a group of instruments each playing their own part.

It’s very trippy. I keep thinking I’m hearing my cell phone go off, but it’s electronic background melodies and harmonies of the songs I’m listening to.

I’ve been hearing my cubicle neighbors really clearly, too, which is fine, except that they’re driving me nuts with their conversations about their trivia calendars. I try to listen to music with headphones on, but somehow their conversations bleed through. I like the people I work with. A lot. And it irritates me that I’m so irritated by them.

I haven’t been much fun, lately.

I’m coming up on my 4-year anniversary of my most recent tbi (I fell down a flight of stairs a few days after Thanksgiving in 2004), and I haven’t been sleeping very well. I try to relax, I try to chill out, I try all sorts of things. But I haven’t been able to really REST, which is a problem.

When I’m tired, everything gets amplified around me. My vision, too. All the colors look brighter. The sounds are louder. The tastes of things I rarely notice are now very noticeable — like the candy bar I was eating the other day — I could taste every major ingredient, and it occurred to me that the chocolate wasn’t the highest quality.

Which is weird. Because I’m not a real candy connoisseur. But I noticed the relative quality of the chocolate.

If I drank, now would be a good time to impress people with my palate for fine wines. But I don’t drink, so I guess that leaves me with candy. Oh, well. The price we have to pay 😉

People seem to think I’m depressed. And the other day someone hinted at whether I might be thinking about ending it all. That really bothered me. WTF? Of course not! Just because I’m low, these days, doesn’t mean I’m planning to check out! Don’t get me wrong… the thought has crossed my mind in the past… especially at times when I realized that the net worth of my life insurance policy was greater than my living worth, and I was feeling like I was letting my family down by not being a better provider. But those thoughts pass. Seriously. I’m not a danger to myself. Am I protesting too much? Perhaps, but no, I don’t want to kill myself.

Not when I’m finally figuring out what’s going on with me and I’m getting help! Fer Chrissakes, it’s taken me 40-some years to get to this place, and I’m not about to just check out because I’m feeling low.

Besides, I feel as though I’ve really been divinely spared a lot of terrible things in my life. Things that went badly for me could have gone a whole lot worse, but they didn’t. And I hung in there, and they got better. When all is said and done, that’s really my whole life philosophy/strategy — just hang in there. Things change. They either get better or they get worse, or they go both ways at the same time. But you never know when things are going to go in your favor, so why not stick around and find out what happens…?

It’s not the most sophisticated or complex philosophy, but it works for me.

Now, if only my hearing would change. Seriously, it’s driving me nuts, hearing every little thing. The sound of the keys clicking as I type is not just the usual clicking. I can hear my fingers making contact with the plastic of the keys, I can hear my thumb brushing along the space bar, I can hear the keys depressing and then clicking against the keyboard base… and the wiggling of the keys has a weird clicky plastic sound that’s very “reedy” and faint. But it’s there.

I just heard my furnace kick in, which is good. It’s getting cold, these days, and heat is good. I hear cars driving on the road near my house, whooshing down the hill as they head into the woods… I hear the baseboard heat kicking in… and the distant sound of a radio  playing. And of course there’s the ringing in my ears. Tinnitus they call it. I call it constant.

“Ringing” is the wrong word for it. It’s not ringing. It’s a constant high-pitched whine that has an almost metallic quality to it. Beneath the high-pitched whine — like a huge honkin’ mosquito always hovering beside my ears — there’s another tone… lower, fuller… again, always there. I’ve had this since I was a kid — when I was a teenager, it used to drive me NUTS!!! I couldn’t stand it!!! But oddly, I got used to it.

It’s really never gone. It just varies in intensity. And when I’m tired and my allergies are acting up, it gets way out of control. The weird thing is, it doesn’t keep me from hearing everything else. It’s like it’s in a different “space” that I hear in… always in the background, but never keeping me from hearing every other sound on God’s good earth.

Good grief!

Well, I know I’m tired, and it’s been a long day, and I have a doctor’s appointment in the a.m., when I’m going to discuss some of my concerns with my pcp, who I actually really like. My doc has got a good manner, and I feel comfortable talking things through with them. I need to do a reality check about some things I’ve been noticing… to make sure I’m not in imminent danger. It sounds serious(?) and it might be. But I won’t know, till I check in.

And it’s definitely tbi-related, so I’m actually looking forward, in a way, to getting to the bottom of the mystery.

I’m being cryptic, I know. I’ll write more later, when I know more. Later

Yes, I’m tired. And overtaxed. I really need to chill for the evening. Eat my supper. Go to bed.

Then go to the doctor and get on with my day.

Onward…

Catching up with myself

It’s been a while since I last posted… there’s been a lot going on with me, actually. I have been seeing a doctor regularly for neuropsychological testing, as well as other physicians like neurologists and my general practitioner, to follow up on other health issues. I have more appointments scheduled to check out some issues that I’ve been having for a long time — and I believe are tbi-related — but I never realized were part of a larger pattern, till the past year or so.

It’s been very frustrating for me, because

1. I’ve had a lot of trouble identifying the true issues, starting with even realizing that I had them to begin with.
2. It’s hard for me to talk out loud about things I can conceptualize in the privacy and quiet and safety of my own mind — somehow the words don’t do justice to my thoughts.
3. Talking with doctors and interacting in that power relationship is very stressful for me, which makes it even harder for me to express myself.
4. People don’t like to think there’s something wrong with me — they don’t want to believe that someone with my intelligence and insight and humor and kind manner and talent and abilities might actually have something wrong with them. Even doctors get scared by that prospect, I’ve found.
5. I don’t have medical records of my injuries. I’m one of those tbi survivors who people thought would just get over the falls, the accidents, the blows to my head, when I was a kid. And even when I was in charge of my own health and well-being, I never put two and two together to get myself to the doctor and seek help. Now, my doctors are faced with a lot of unknowns and a lot of guesswork — which they hate! — about what’s going on with me.
6. I don’t know how to ask for help. My parents and teachers and authority figures when I was growing up never got me help for my problems, I don’t think they ever realized that my injuries might be the cause of my bad behavior (no, I wasn’t just being bad all the time! I wasn’t just bad seed, the “bad apple” in their barrel of kids — I had neurological problems that needed to be addressed!) And since I was raised in an environment that relied on discipline and force to keep me in line, I never was able to see that my issues were due to actual physical injuries, rather than some character defect. I thought it was me that was defective, rather than the processes in my brain. So, I’ve tried like crazy over the years to avoid any sort of detection and avoid drawing attention to my needs and limitations.

But while I can’t do much about most of the points above, I can do something about the last one. I’m actually learning to ask for help! I’m learning to figure out where I’m falling down (using my self-assessment sheet and other check-in approaches), and I’m learning how to express to others what my needs are, getting past the shame and horrible feeling of being so friggin’ deficient.

Yes, I’m learning to ask for help. And I’m learning to talk to doctors. Which is a big change for me. All my life, I’ve avoided them like the plague — in large part because of my communication issues. And because I never wanted anyone to know I was in the level of trouble I was in.

A little progress at a time. It’s slow going. But at least my various doctors and I have all agreed that I do have issues… which is a big step, compared to where I have been in the past, when my issues were not as pronounced, and I frankly didn’t have a clue why I was doing the things I was doing — like being unable to get going with things I needed to do… being unable to follow conversations… being emotionally volatile and tired all the time… I could go on, but I get tired just thinking about it 😉 I really need to finish this post…

The view of my back yard has changed…

You can buy a copy of this piece at my gallery at Imagekind – click here for prints on paper and canvas

One of the things I’ve noticed, this fall, is how much my relationship with my home has changed. When I first moved into my house in 2002, I was rarin’ to go… really pro-active with everything. I worked at a pretty intense pace, getting the place in order each season. I seeded the lawn, mowed it every other week in the summer, fertilized it, put down lime, mulched the shrubbery, kept things neatly trimmed… I split a lot of firewood and really went hog-wild with cutting up fallen trees and stacking the winter wood supply… I tidied up the flowers and plantings… I fixed things around the house… I constructed different fixtures I needed… I was quite handy and used my carpentry tools regularly. And I used my workshop in the basement a lot. I kept on top of all the repairs that needed to be done, and I called workmen to do work I couldn’t handle.

Since my fall down the stairs in 2004, however, a lot of that has changed. One of my 2-1/2 baths is completely out of commission — falling apart, literally — and I haven’t used it in almost a year. The electrical wiring in my dining room is funky and I’ve stopped using the overhead light. The outside light to the back stairs is not working, and hasn’t been for some time. The trees need to be trimmed and cabled, but I haven’t made the call. I haven’t been keeping up the outside of the house, doing the same level of upkeep. I haven’t been chopping wood. I have even forgotten to cover piles of perfectly good firewood, time and time again, to the point where much of it is unusable now — a total waste. My yard is suffering, the plantings are just running wild, the ticks in the grass are out of control, and frankly I’m lucky to have gotten any leaves up last year, at all.

It’s quite dismaying, when I think about it. It’s just not like me. And I feel that loss of my old self quite keenly.

But there’s a big part of me that just doesn’t care. That part of me looks out at the yard (which isn’t horrible looking, by any stretch, but still needs help) and just notices that it needs help. It doesn’t actually want to do anything about it. I work around the lighting issues in the dining room and the back stairs, using lamps and lanterns instead of the light switches.  All the repairs that need to be done just have to wait, as the part of me that’s usually motivated to do something about these things just tries to get through the day.

Truly, even the most basic things — like getting up and out into the day — are so much of a challenge, I just haven’t got the energy to tend to other things. It’s such a challenge to just get to work, do my job, and then come home, that the extra stuff like raking and calling contractors and fixing and patching and hammering and what-not, just tend to fall by the wayside.

But as I’m increasingly aware of these things, I find myself better able to deal with them. Like when I do my self-assessment sheets, and I check in about how I’m really doing… if I’m angry, if I’m anxious, if I’m distracted, if I’m tired, what kind of headache I have today… when I take a look at myself and my life and it sinks in about what I need to do, then I can start taking some action.

I just need to be aware. i just need to watch my energy. I just need to sleep when I need to sleep, and not worry about it. And I need to ask for help, when I need it.

Because I do need help. And there’s no shame in that.

How I figured out something was REALLY wrong

Yes, I picture’s worth a thousand words… Here’s a graph of what happened to my financial situation, after my fall down the stairs (I hit the back of my head on the top 3-4 stairs) in 2004:

The interesting thing about this is that I never fully realized that there was something really really wrong with me, till I looked at my finances in 2007. Prior to that, I had thought that the problems I was having with my moods, my temper, my attention, my sleeping patterns, my pain… welll, everything… were due to things outside myself.

I literally thought that it was other people who had the problem. Or, it was just job stress. Or it was an unhappy childhood. Or I didn’t realize there was something wrong at all.

But then, in 2007, I looked at my finances and I realized that something was very, very wrong. I, who had been in the financial services industry for a decade or so, who was studying to become a financial advisor, who had been all about money for years and years and years… who knew about all sorts of common sense investment and savings vehicles… I had literally forgotten to keep track of my finances. And I had forgotten to stash a large lump sum I’d received in a secure interest-bearing savings account.

People, that’s just common sense. It’s the bare minimum you do with a lump sum of money, let alone all the other things you can do with it.

But I hadn’t. Even knowing what I knew, even having the positive orientation that I had to money, even having all this domain experience in savings and investments… something had broken down. And it forced me to take a long, hard look at all the other factors that had been plaguing me in my life.

Suddenly, a pattern emerged. And I started to remember things i hadn’t thought about in years…

A few thoughts on light and enlightenment

Over at my Tough Boy Initiative I read the following about research on sensitivities after TBI

This article presents research specifically seen with TBI. I wish they posted a date it was conducted, or a link to a legit article! Legit research or not, the following statement I very much believe – just from talking to people, who know people who have struggled in similar situations. I also believe it from my own experience regulating the amount of sun/light I see each week, exposure to retail stores with fluorescent lights, and from what websites I visit most when I’m out of it. All these, and more, contribute to how comfortable I am in the moment, day and throughout the week.

Dr. Tosta stated in her research:
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Dr. Tosta stated in her research:
It appeared that these individuals were so overwhelmed by the changes to their life that they had little awareness of the severity of the symptoms contributing to their inability to function.
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I’ve been thinking a lot about anosognosia, lately, and this is in keeping with my current theme.

While it may be true that the overwhelm of dealing with TBI prevents us from identifying the challenges, there’s another aspect that lots of people don’t mention: a condition called “anosognosia” — basically, Latin for “not knowing there’s a problem”.

It’s a very interesting phenomenon that’s common in stroke survivors and severe TBI survivors, but in my case — a series of mild TBI’s — I can definitely tell it’s caused problems. You literally do not know there’s a problem with your processing. Other people can tell, but you can’t. Some people don’t even realize their one side is paralyzed. You can read more about it at http://discovermagazine.com/1995/may/thebrainthatmisp502 which is an article I really enjoyed.

So, while overwhelm may be part of it, there’s a cognitive aspect, as well. Dr. George Prigatano has written a great deal about this phenomenon, and Google Books has a pretty complete version of a book he contributed to: “Awareness of Deficit After Brain Injury” By George P. Prigatano, Daniel L. Schacter — you can read most of it at http://books.google.com/books?id=xze89PCLaWMC&printsec=frontcover&dq=Awareness+of+Deficit+After+Brain+Injury&client=firefox-a&sig=ACfU3U0fGDNZyDxdkuBwr4jzLwJ8_MoyGQ

It’s some of my favorite reading, these days. I feel a lot less insane/deficient/incapable, when I realize that the problem is not with ME — it’s with my brain 😉