A Case Of The Wobbles

Posted: 06/06/2012 by erichblayde in Acceptance, Life Lessons, Self Help, Strength
Tags: , , , ,

Yesterday morning when I awoke I made my usual morning rush at the coffee pot. This time I failed to notice that I had mistakenly left the door to the cupboard above the coffee machine wide open. One moment of not paying attention and SLAM, head of Erich vs. the cupboard door Round 701 has occurred.

As previously mentioned in this blog, I have an acquired brain injury as a result of too many knocks to the head. The doctors tell me I have no more chances with my much maligned brain and that the next bad concussion could be the one that forever convinces me my name is Bobby the cabbage. For the most part I have become extremely cautious of the whole head bonking thing, but the one danger I can’t seem to avoid is those FUCKING cupboard doors! No matter how hard I try, at least once a month I bounce my head off one of those things, and let me tell you, in my world, that’s no joke.

I do not often talk (seriously that is) about what living with a head injury means, out of some sense of pride or embarrassment or whatever, but it really can affect me some days.

Brain injuries are tricky little buggers. On the surface they leave you looking so normal, so unchanged that people don’t even think you have one. And yet everything in your world just became 50 times more difficult. The headaches appear suddenly, and can completely shut you down in a matter of minutes. Your brain can suddenly seem to make a dash out your ear, leaving you in the middle of whatever you were doing with no idea of what you’re doing or how to do it! Your vision will suddenly blur causing massive periods of vertigo. Up becomes down. Sleep can be either totally unachievable or a tortured nightmare of bizarre dreams and rude awakenings. Stairs can suddenly be impossible barriers. The simple act of making a cup of coffee is so intensive you have to take a nap.

You may think this is the extremist point of view, and some days it is. Some days I feel totally normal. The trouble is I never have notification of those days ahead of time. Nor am I warned of the bad ones. And often the bad ones occur with far greater frequency than the good.

I guess in some sick way I have gotten used to the shifting moods of my head injury. I no longer panic when, mid-way down a set of stairs I suddenly feel like I am walking off the edge of the world. When my once intelligent writing suddenly disintegrates into a torrent of misspelled words that make no sense, I just back up to the last usable portion and keep on truckin’. I crack jokes to hide the shame I feel when my friends need me to repeat what I just said in proper English instead of jumble. I don’t tell you when I am lost, or have lost myself. I hide the fear I feel that things are slowly getting worse and I will eventually lose my mind. I don’t react outwardly when I have forgotten my name age or birthdate even though inside my head I scream in fear. I look and act as normal as I can, despite the fact that my whole world just cracked and fell away.

I don’t ask for help.

But inside I cry, I cry for the lost Erich. For the lost opportunities. For the cone of silence I force myself to live in even when I don’t want to. I rage at the fact that my life has been inevitably changed by hatred and stupidity. I hate what I have become some days.

And yet I just keep on truckin’.

Surprise dear readers, the mouthy little asshole is a real person after all.

Advertisements

Tell The World What You Think

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s