My name is Janna Leyde, and my father has a traumatic brain injury. Growing up with a parent who has a brain injury is not divorce or death or abuse. It’s no one’s fault and when you try to tack blame on a place or a person, it doesn’t work. Family dynamics flip, roles change, relationships dissolve — the confusion is paralyzing. At some point you realize you have a choice: roll with it and grow up into someone you didn’t know you’d be or isolate yourself and get the heck outta Dodge as soon as you can.
I chose to roll.
Now, I’m fresh into my thirties. I’ve suffered and survived my strange loss of innocence. I’ve discovered how to find acceptance and love. I’ve learned there are no guarantees and there is always change. I’m still here, and I invite you to roll with me.
Read an excerpt from Janna’s book, He Never Liked Cake.
April 13, 2015
I know there will always be days when I cry my face off because of what happened to my dad, but I have learned that the best remedy for the unfairness is meeting the daughters and sons and wives and brothers and friends of others who have been where I have been.
March 9, 2015
March is brain injury awareness month. It’s the dead of winter in these parts and about the time of year when my dad starts to get bored. And when my dad gets bored, he gets in trouble. I feel all the heat and sorrow of this brain injury pour over me yet again.
February 9, 2015
There I was again, gripping onto a past that had no place in the present.