While mailing some legal documents today, I ran into Brother Frank from the church I used to attend. Another gal from church, also a high-functioning TBIer, is losing her home. I don’t know the circumstances behind it, I just know our losing homes is like the elderly losing their homes. We’re vulnerable, and it’s a major catastrophic change.
It pierced my heart to hear this because we are in such a vulnerable state. We may look and present fine, but God only know what goes on in our heads (or doesn’t!)
I was thinking about the Neurologist’s records I scanned through.
For example, according to him, I’m well-groomed. This surprises me because no one knows how often I shower or don’t, if I’ve brushed my hair or teeth that day. My wardrobe wasn’t injured in the accident, my brain was! What a dreadful amount of energy we put into trying to get people to understand. I don’t think most people, even professionals, look deep enough into what we’re experiencing because our ‘normal’ is not their ‘normal.’
The gal from church Brother Frank mentioned also said her own children don’t get it. I nodded.
So many questions, what do we high-functioning TBIers do? We’re caught between being fully abled and fully disabled.
I just can’t help but wonder, where is the help? It is a challenge to keep my heart open when we struggle every day to keep our heads above water and there is such a strong undertow.
I can’t tell you how bad I want to get out of this place of dire financial struggle and hopefully be able to move on with a more full life. I would very much like to create the community support for others I don’t/didn’t have.
I am trying to exercise more although my hips tend to be out and I’m walking wrong (gee, I sure hope they come back soon – LOL!) But really, walking as I used to is causing pain in I guess my left Achilles’ Tendon, my hips seem to have a mind of their own, and the neck pain, well, that seems to be pretty constant. The neck feels more like bone on bone, and that’s taking a little getting used to.
I’m trying to be kind to myself whether I exercise or not, doing something active each day, and not beating myself up. Telling myself I’m going to be tired anyway, I might as well be tired and in shape! Healing takes time, especially for tendons, muscles, and ligaments.
I am working on getting more letters out, but there may come a time very soon when I give up miracle chasing and get on with the business of selling stuff and moving somewhere. Everything becomes so much more uncertain, day to day, minute by minute, week by week, with TBI.
If there are happy endings with TBI, they’re sure not making their ways to my eyes and ears. All I hope for, really, is to be able to have a better, fuller life, than this one of visual constraints at this point.