As Simple as That

My daughter recently met a young man who had just returned from Afghanistan and who suffered a TBI while he was there. Not only has this man seen the atrocities of war, had close friends die before his eyes, but also struggles with the difficulties of recovering from a traumatic brain injury. I can't even imagine what he must be going through. As my daughter explained to me some of his behavior and some of methods he used to cope with the the aftermath of his injury, I found myself hurting for him and relating with his struggle. I'm not for one second suggesting that my situation was as devastating as his, but I can certainly understand a little of what he is going through. Today marks the 2 years, 7 months and 6th day of my journey. Without a doubt every step, every day has been a challenge and a hell that cannot fully be expressed with words. During dinner this weekend the subject of the injury came up. My daughter was on deployment when the injury occurred, and as my husband began to talk about that day, he went into greater detail than he had previously shared with her. She admitted that until she moved back to Oklahoma, she didn't fully understand the extent of how the injury had changed me.  She told me someone close had told her that I could simply recover from it, if I chose too. And herein lies the absolute helplessness someone who has had a TBI deals with on a daily basis. Not everyone suffers a personality change after a TBI, but those of us who do, would do anything within our power to get back the person we were before.  Imagine for a second, if suddenly most of your personal, emotional, and spiritual attachments disappeared.... Ceased to exist.  Imagine looking into the eyes of your children, your spouse, your parents, and your friends and not feeling any of the intrinsic connections to the most important people in your life.  The loss of some of your memory is one thing, but the loss of who you are is not something you can simply "Get over". Our sense of self is what connects us to our world, to each other and more importantly to ourselves, not to mention the spiritual connection to our God.  In the last couple of months, two of my children have been told by their counselors, that they must mourn the loss of the Mother they knew and embrace the woman I now am. The depth of the sorrow I feel for not being able to bring their old mother back, is a vortex of failure I will forever feel. When the movie "The Vow" came out, someone asked my husband if we had seen it. We watched the trailers on the computer and looked at each other and simply shook our heads no. We are walking this path and though it may make for a touching movie plot, we find no entertainment value in watching it played out on screen.  My therapist asked me a few weeks ago, what I missed about the old me.... "Oh, let me count the ways" Besides missing the feelings associated with my most important attachments, I miss knowing how I would react to any number of given circumstances. I miss trusting myself. I miss being a "fix it" person. I miss my compassion, empathy and passion. I miss knowing that I KNOW who I am and what makes me tick and I miss liking myself. I miss feeling the presence of my God, the spiritual moving of him in my soul and the feeling of being at one with him and myself. I miss dreaming with expectation of those dreams coming true and miss the joy I found in life itself.  The first few weeks and months after the injury seemed like one long out of body experience. Slowly but surely my mind came back to my body, but not entirely. I still get the sense that I am watching my life from afar without the means to return fully to that which I was. That being said, I am better than I was. I operate not on instinct, but from drawing on the remnant of who I used to be and I still hold onto the hope that some day I will return to being that person and leaving the new me for the familiar comfort of the me I knew and loved so well. Until then, I am on auto pilot, or an actress playing the part of me. Some days I'm not sure where this plane is headed, or how long I can continue the roller coaster ride.  Yes, if I could I would "Get over it", but sadly, it's not as simple as that. My salvation has been those who continue to love the new me as if nothing has changed. It's for those people that I desperately dig the depths of my soul to bring myself back to the surface.

Walking In the Shade

 

"False friends are like our shadow, keeping close to us while we walk in the sunshine, but leaving us the instant we cross into the shade."
Christian N. Bovee

 A friend on facebook posted this quote the other day. It immediately jumped out at me because I wasn't just in the shade last year, I was completely in the dark. I can honestly say nothing will teach you about being judged, critiqued or deserted like walking in the dark places for a time. You can't really blame others when you take a sharp turn with your personality and actions, but it still stings and makes you realize that most friendship are of the conditional nature. My journey has made me take a step back and take a good look at my judgments toward others. If I can't love in the dark times as well as the light times, what good is my love? If I can't offer companionship during the times of difficulty, why offer it at all? I don't want to be a good times only friend, I want to be a through thick or thin friend. When the seas of life get rough and you lose your way, that's when you need the life vest of a true friend wrapped around you. It really is possible to love someone without agreeing with everything they do. It seems like the position of choice is to stand outside the shaded areas until they wonder back into the light instead of going into the darkness and being a light which points them back to the sun (or should I Son).The other day a good friend (who I take particular pride in harassing) said.... "Yep, the old Jac is back." He had know idea how much that meant to me; it literally brought tears to my eyes. I can't even explain the difficulty of the path back, nor the lessons learned while I was there. Walking in the shade isn't fun, but it is very enlightening. It certainly made me look at things (and people) much differently. 

 "Dare to reach out your hand into the darkness, to pull another hand into the light."
Norman B. Rice

 

 

My Scary Hole

I went out on a limb this weekend just to see how well I could balance my brain. Since the TBI  I have been experiencing sudden anxiety attacks especially when around crowds or when I'm around a loud environment. I really wanted to go on this weekend trip but I was terrified that if an anxiety hit me, there would be no place for me to hide until it passed. The trip was important to me for several reasons. It was a breast cancer walk and I was walking with one of my best friends who had breast cancer late last year. I knew it would be a fun time and I wanted to see how far I could push my boundaries with this fear thing. The anxiety has gotten so much better than it was a few months ago, but still it has a way of sneaking up from behind, catching me unaware. I am feeling so much better!! There are still a few things that need tweaking (patience would be one of those things).  Since the accident I've been pretty careful about putting myself in social settings and isolated myself for a variety of reasons. This weekend I thought I'd push through and see how it went. I made it through Friday night much better than expected even though there were a lot of people with us and the restaurant was very crowded.  My Son and his friends joined us for a while at the restaurant and I enjoyed getting to visit and catch up with him. Saturday morning went great. It was a sea of pink as far as the eye could see. It felt good to be a part of something positive and it felt good to see people whose loved ones had not come out on the winning end against the disease, being represented. About 3/4 way through the walk the stifling cloud caught up with me along with a raging headache... I had to get out of there before someone noticed the tears and the ragged breathing.I needed  just a few minutes alone to gain control before I could get back to my group and enjoy the rest of the walk. I ran back to the hotel, got something for my headache and took a few minutes to calm myself and reassure myself that the anxiety attacks, although inconvenient, were becoming less severe and soon they would pass altogether like most of the other symptoms. When I got back to the group I was fine, exhausted from the aftermath of overwhelming anxiety, but for the most part fine. A hole certainly would come in handy during these times.... A portable hole I could climb into that was lined with soft silky fir that would wrap around me like a warm blanket. Instead I climb back into cold hard reality and put one foot in front of the other until finally I'm back to my safe place.  When I got home my husband asked me how it went and I fell in his arms with tears rolling down my cheeks(he has gotten pretty used to this)..... "I just want the old Jac back, I want to be her again." He held me and assured me that she was coming back in little pieces every day and that I would just have to be patient. I told him I was pretty sure everyone was getting tired of my quirks and didn't understand the struggle. He said "Jac, when people hear what happened they expect for you to have some kind of visual scars they can see, you don't have any of those on the outside.... The damage was all inside. From the outside you look just as normal as if nothing has happened. You are better every day and you can't let these little episodes set you back." These episodes don't set me back, they terrify me! I become paralyzed with fear that they will never go away. I liked the person I was.... we were friends, I understood her. This new person can be hard to read, easy to offend, and has the patience of a gnat. I'm not crazy about this person and if she angers me I know she angers others. He continued to reassure me as he always does. He held me tight and suggested I take a nap(always a good idea). I'm not sure how I would have made it these last few months if it wasn't for my husband. He has been so supportive and loving, much more than I deserve. During this whole ordeal I've never felt like I was fighting alone, he has been beside me every step. When I get discouraged, he lifts me up. When I get overwhelmed, he carries the load, when I get scared he reassures me,when I fall into the black hole, he reaches in and helps me out, never judging,never criticizing. But most important of all, he loves me 100% unconditionally and never fails to calm my fears.