Until You Realize Your Brain Is Broken

       As I alluded to in my last post, I only know what an extremely severe traumatic brain injury feels like. Therefore, the information I share may not be applicable to all head traumas. However, the information I share in this post might sound controversial. It took a long time for my parents to believe that I truly did not understand what was happening rather than being contrary.

            For a long while, I could not comprehend that anything had happened to me. My brain had been damaged, but my mind literally could not grasp that very fact. Even though I was uncapable of doing things that I had always done, my perception was that they were still getting accomplished. For example, my voice was extremely monotone and when my speech therapist would tell me that I had to use voice inflections, I thought she was being insane. Because in my head, I was speaking the exact same way I always had.

            In occupational therapy, my therapist would try to get me to do simple addition problems. I legitimately thought that I was scrolling through the page at a rapid pace and I was extremely frustrated because I had just completed an AP Calculus class and now they were making me do addition! However in actuality, it took me about 10 minutes to get through a page and many of the answers were not even numbers – rather just dashes or dots.

           People had a hard time believing that I was not just being stubborn and belligerent. It seemed so obvious that I could not finish things, that my voice was so deadpan, etc. that there was no way I couldn’t see it! Yet somehow, my brain was not processing that there was a difference. My brain was so focused on physically healing that it could not supply my mind with adequate resources to fathom any sort of deficit.

I had no understanding of why I was trapped in the hospital for so long and I put all my efforts into getting out. To underscore this idea, I would have one sip of a 1600 calorie milkshake and think I had all 1600 calories. (Since eating a LOT of calories was a prerequisite to going home.)

            It took me a long number of months before I began to realize that things were taking a longer time and that things were a heck of a lot harder. It took a lot longer than that to understand that things would never be the same. I still struggle with all of it, but the final piece, radical acceptance, took the longest. “Radical acceptance is when you stop fighting reality, stop responding with impulsive or destructive behaviors when things aren't going the way you want them to, and let go of bitterness that may be keeping you trapped in a cycle of suffering.” It is NOT a joyful acceptance of the reality.