The things no one tells you about brain injuries

Good reading:

It was tough seeing Alex, my shadow for so many years, going it alone and winning a place at university ahead of me. School staff showed great patience and understanding, and I was gradually re-acclimatised to the world of academia.

I stumbled plenty of times, took far too long agonising over essays and worried constantly about what fellow pupils thought of me, but I persevered and Hull University offered me a place, to study geography, while promising to support me in my quest to make sense of my new life.

I over-analyse, suffer from paranoia and bouts of depression, as doctors warned I would, but I do my best to put on a brave face and smile. And I’m afraid I’m rather obsessive. I used to be Bart Simpson, but now the Queen could visit my bedroom it’s so neat and tidy while my clothes have to be washed to death and hung in a certain order in my wardrobe.


Leaving well enough alone

Source: joshbousel

Things are changing at work. I have a new boss, and they are shuffling people around. The other people I work with are nervous, and so am I. We have a meeting scheduled for this Friday morning about my “new responsibilities”.

Ugh. I just want to go about my business and have things be stable for a while. I just started this job two months ago. But perhaps that’s not to be.

Fingers crossed that the news will be good. In any case, it will be a new challenge.

I’m trying like crazy to be positive and optimistic. There’s a nasty little “junkyard dog” voice in the back of my head that’s grousing about how this can’t possibly be good, ‘cuz I’m a screw-up and a brain-damaged loser. That voice is a supreme pain in my ass. I’m doing my utmost to ignore it… Or change the channel when it starts blaring in the back of my head. Music and headphones helps.

And I’m going to extra lengths to not act out and be a jerk with people because I’m nervous and agitated and irritable. I’m nervous. I’m tired. I’m not feeling up to this, or anything else. All the old stories about me being a screw-up are broadcasting on the big screen in my head. And it’s not very pleasant.

Plus, there’s a part of me that just wants to slouch along and not be bothered with “new responsibilities,” and that part has a bad habit of sabotaging me.  It’s done it before, and I need to be wary of it trying again.

Tomorrow, I shall focus in and take care of business.  Just do my job. Keep a low profile, except for when people come to me for help. Then I shall do my best, and remain calm.

I need to leave this well enough alone — and let it be good — ’cause there’s a chance it will be.

If I just keep steady, that junkyard dog may calm down and quit howling.

It’s a plan…