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Time seems to pass faster every year. It feels like just yesterday that I first presented at a brain injury conference. It was 2013, and I was asked to offer the keynote address at the Brain Injury Association of Maine’s annual conference. No one was more surprised than me to receive the invitation.
Creating boundaries can feel awkward or wrong when you first start setting them. You might even get pushback if you haven’t done it before. But don’t stop.
The holiday season is upon us and that means family time and reflection. But this year just feels off. I’m not sure if it’s the change of seasons, the upcoming holidays, our added pressures at work, or just the stress of everything going on in the world, but my husband, Russ, and I have both been stressed.
Triggers are weird. A seemingly innocuous thing happens or there is a tiny deviation from routine and you or your loved one loses it. From the outside, it seems like a total overreaction but for the person who has been triggered, it is a fight-or-flight response.
I feel ready to move through whatever comes next. After all, I really only need to worry about making today a well-lived day. Tomorrow is none of my business.
Sometimes it feels like I am a single parent. That breaks my heart to say because my husband really is a fantastic parent as long as he’s not triggered or having a chronic pain flare-up.
Mind-full can be messy, sad, overwhelming, unproductive … and definitely not healthy. Mindful, on the other hand, is calming and satisfying; it can bring me back to my best self.
Thanksgiving is a uniquely American tradition that includes feasting and sharing all for which we are grateful. But this year, I’m just not feeling it. There’s too much weighing heavily on my mind.
I am a big believer in working through what I walk through. If I have learned anything from everything that has come from the day of the crash, it is that we are each responsible for how we respond — and heal from — what happens in our lives. We must learn to heal our way.
“During pregnancy, a mother celebrates the journey with family and friends — think baby names, baby showers, nurseries, tiny clothes … smiles from strangers and proud hands on an ever-expanding belly. The journey of being pregnant is both personal and public. So, what should be one of the most magical experiences shared with family, friends, and colleagues becomes one of private emotional and physical trauma in a closed room, an experience that is then often not acknowledged nor spoken about. The mother returns home still looking pregnant, her hormones still acting as if she is pregnant, but her arms and heart are empty.”
Over the last 10 years ago, since my sons, Aaron and Steven, were involved in a fatal car accident, in which Aaron did not survive and Steven sustained a severe TBI, my life has resembled a lost-and-found bin, filled to the top, running over with more emotions than I could ever imagine sorting through.
Three of my four sons abruptly walked out of my life with no explanation and no communication. I was being ghosted long before that term even existed. It was, by far, the most painful part of my journey.
I enjoy watching my husband cry. That sounds so much worse than what I really mean. He’s been on various medications for his PTSD some of which cause emotional blunting — not being able to laugh or cry when appropriate.
I will admit when I first watched Encanto I was not terribly impressed, though the songs in Miranda’s signature style are quite catchy. I have two little girls, 3 and 5, and for those of you with children or grandchildren, you know that they must watch something like Encanto again and again and again. So, suffice it to say, I had the opportunity to really listen and pay attention to the story more than once.
In the past, Russ and I would celebrate across oceans and time zones, sometimes a half hour off. Yes, really. Afghanistan is nine-and-a-half hours ahead of the east coast, 10-and-a-half from Texas. It was wild trying to sync up schedules but I would never turn down a 3AM-my-time video chat. I am grateful we don’t have to contend with that any longer. But Russ being home hasn’t made the transition from 2021 to 2022 any easier.
Relationships after a life-altering injury or diagnosis is, well, weird. Some people will stand by you no matter what. Hold on to them and let them know, often, how grateful you are that they are in your life. Others, even family—no, especially family—are not so loyal.
My blog is titled Permission to Tell the Truth in an effort of honoring my feelings, not denying them. The actual act of truth telling is challenging. It hurts. Here we’ve established a relationship of trusting support. I’d like your continued permission to be open and real.
Creating a feeling of community, inclusion, and understanding is part of the power of support groups. The holiday season illustrates just how impactful that support can be.
As I moved throughout 2019 I asked myself, “What could people give survivors that would actually feel meaningful? What kinds of offerings and interactions provide a lasting impression?”