November has never been my favorite month. I’ve said for years that I was misplaced at birth. Being a lover of warm, tropical weather while living in New Hampshire does present a challenge. November is also an anniversary month. On November 11, the fifteen-year anniversary of the accident that changed everything came to pass. I marvel that it’s been a decade and a half since I was struck while cycling on Main Street.
I’ve had fourteen anniversaries before this year’s milestone. One might think they are all the same, but this year was tough. Perhaps the toughest. While I am a brain injury survivor, I also live with treatment-resistant PTSD, the direct result of my accident. The weeks leading up to this month’s anniversary were cruel. My PTSD manifests primarily in the form of night terrors. Not just a typical bad dream (I could only wish for those!), I wake often covered in sweat, sometimes yelling, sometimes sobbing. If it sounds dreadful, it’s because it is. My heart breaks for my wife. I often hear her trying to pull me out of it, gently calling my name. “David, David… wake up.” I open my eyes to see the concern in her eyes. I set a new personal best record for one night with three night terror events in a single night. No trophy for that one.
But that was then, and this is now. One of my most effective compensatory strategies is living in the moment, right here, right now. And thankfully, when the anniversary passed, so did the uptick in tough nights. As of today, it’s been a full week of solid sleep, something I am profoundly grateful for. It’s funny how perspectives change after brain injury. Having gratitude for something like simply sleeping, something I took for granted for years, is new. I never gave it a second thought. Now a week of sleep is like hitting the lottery!
Lots of time has been spent in inward reflection. A big part of me marvels that I’m still standing. But more importantly, I’ve proven to myself that I really can live a meaningful and mostly happy life with the challenges that I live with. Looking around the landscape of my life, everyone has something that they are dealing with. Everyone. I have my “stuff,” and you have yours. It’s part of being human.
When I look back over the years, had it not been for the injury, I would never have met some of the best friends I’ve ever had. The opportunity to share my life with others, offering realistic, meaningful hope, would not have happened. The opportunity to share my deeply personal experiences so that others no longer feel alone - how do you put a price on that?
And lest the second anniversary of this month slip by, also noteworthy is that this month marks my twelve-year anniversary as a Brainline contributing writer. Early on, Brainline was our go-to for information about life after brain injury. I sent an unsolicited article, and the Brainline editor reached back, letting me know that my work would be published. With that came a request to submit again. The rest, as they say, is history.
The life that I love today is not the one I ever expected. Never did I foresee my role as a disability advocate coming at me at light speed. But therein lies the mystery of life. Things befall us all. In my world, the big question is this: Will I let the experience defeat me? Looking back over the years, I’m quite content, happy even, with the amazing life that I live.
And now that the anniversary is behind me and I’m on solid ground again, it’s time to keep living my best life. I have people who want me in their lives, people who need me, and most importantly, people who love me as I am.