Monday, January 30, 2017


Another one of the most challenging things associated with a severe TBI is the extreme lack of motivation. I'm not exactly sure what or where it is in the brain, but there becomes a literal, physical altercation that occurs that tanks motivation. It especially doesn't help in someone who has pre-frontal cortex damage (like myself) which regulates emotions. It especially doesn't help when everything that you once had planned and dreamed are now far beyond your reach. There is literally no incentive to do anything. I'm not just talking about big things like running a marathon, graduating college, going to work everyday, no. I'm also talking about little things like brushing my teeth. It's something I know I should do, I know all of the benefits to brushing, I know all the consequences of not brushing, but can I get myself to do it? Often time, still no. There are reasons for some things, like showering. I HATE showering. Amongst the typical washing, drying my hair, shaving, washing my face, brushing my teeth (again?!), which is hard enough to get myself to do, there is still the difficulty of standing on my own two feet for the short duration of a shower. Yes, my feet do ache that badly.
Anyway, I lost all of my dreams, goals, etc. I try to build new dreams but I don't find any real happiness (as noted in my post 2 posts ago) doing anything so it's hard to find something new to enjoy.....

Tuesday, January 24, 2017


     Another product of my TBI is not being able to connect all the dots sometimes. This kind of makes sense with the diffuse axonal injury I suffered, being that the pure definition of diffuse axonal injury is the axons connecting different neurons to each other got severed. I don't know if that sentence made sense. Basically the pieces of your brain that connect thoughts, information, muscle controls, etc are cut off and no longer work. Now my brain has to take a much longer, roundabout way to come up with the same result, and sometimes it just doesn't.
     For example, a + b = c, right? Yeah well in my brain it gets stuck after a + ..... I cannot come up with consequences for my actions. Since my accident, I never really have been able to, which is probably why I lost a lot of my friends in the first couple of weeks. Although I have gotten remarkably better at it, I still struggle a lot. From the beginning, I didn't understand that telling people to leave was hurtful. Quite honestly, that one is still hard for me. I continue to speak my mind no matter who it might hurt, not because I don't care who it will hurt, but because most of the time I don't have the comprehension that it will hurt anyone. I do things on a whim because another product of the TBI is being impulsive. I don't always think about things before I do them and I usually get bitten in the butt for it. I am not excusing my crappy behavior, I am simply explaining it and apologizing if it has hurt you. Because yes, I do not mean to hurt you, but I also am not always capable to think about if it will. So I am sorry if I have hurt you and I hope to inform you of life post-severe-TBI.

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Happiness, or Lack Thereof

One of the more devastating effects of my TBI is my inability to feel or recognize happiness. I say both feel and recognize because I seldomly ever feel happy, and all those close to me can attest to that. But even when I do, I can't recognize it as such. Anyway, it's one of those things that is quite bothersome but I've learned to deal with it, like all other symptoms of my TBI.
As I think about everything I do in life, I can't think of many things at all that bring me happiness. It makes it quite difficult to have the motivation to continue doing anything. I struggle to do anything, as does almost anyone with a severe TBI (I think). I have a problem with attention, even when it comes to people, which is where I derive most of my happiness. I have a problem with anything that takes a significant amount of effort, and with a TBI, that just so happens to be EVERYTHING.
All in all, I don't mean to be a downer, I'm just explaining life with a TBI. And life with a TBI sucks, bad. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, but I would wish everyone to be a support to those with a TBI. I love to pieces those who are my friends now and who have stuck it out with me for as long as they've known me. I can't ever say thank you enough, because I know what sheer and utter abandonment feels like and you are giving me the opportunity to not feel that way again.