Targeted Search

While five years may sound like a long time, I know today that I was still such a TBI Newbie. At some point, just before my five-year anniversary, I learned through our statewide Brain Injury Association that it was at five years that most people reached out for help.

Service members and veterans are experts at calculating and mitigating risks in the military but engage in high-risk behaviors outside of the military environment 

Service members and veterans form intimate bonds with their teammates that will last a lifetime, yet struggle to form or reform intimate relationships with others

My verbal and emotional filters were shredded by my injury. I was, well… rather abrupt, unthinking, unfiltered, and a different person than I was before my injury. Did I say something offensive that drove him away?

Some service members and veterans are physically exhausted, but find getting to and staying asleep difficult

Veterans want to be recognized and appreciated for their service, but are embarrassed or bothered when thanked for their service.

A paradox is something that seems like there is no way that it could be true. Like the Combat Addiction paradox: I hate war, but I love combat. Both of those things are true, but they seem like they shouldn’t be.

Members of the medical community literally take their lives in their hands every day they go to work. It’s hard not to feel a bit humbled by that courage. My first face-to-face encounter with First Responders was just over a decade ago. In November of 2010 fate saw fit that most of the First Responders from our Main Street Fire Station and I would meet. 

Living under the shadow of a global pandemic, protests, natural disasters, and a contentious political landscape means our lives are full of stress and anxiety. While all of this weighs heavily on most anyone, it is those of us within the brain injury community that pay a higher premium.

Taylor’s pickup truck represented Taylor’s work ethic, his expression of masculinity, his love for country music, and a space of fun memories and experiences. Perhaps most glaringly, it represented something Taylor feels he has lost — his freedom. The decision to sell it came after another night of seizures.

In times of great distress, I sometimes forget that I am not alone in my struggles. I thought it might be helpful to hear from others in our community. I checked in with some caregivers and survivors, and here is what they had to say.

I have asked BrainLine to allow me to share this letter in place of my regular blog. It feels more important than ever that we not be silent about the things that matter.