Self Esteem Struggles After Brain Injury

Yesterday was one of those “bad brain days,” though it started out as a pretty normal day. One of the things I’ve learned about living with brain injury is that life can be… shockingly unpredictable.

I started my day with one hour of cardio. Those who know me know that I have a passion for cycling. Over the years, my pace has slowed down. I’m now 60+ and have to honor my limitations as I age. These days, I ride fewer miles at a slower speed. Most days, it’s a thirteen mile bike ride, taking me about an hour.

Good for the body – good for the brain.

Yesterday was destined to be a good day, until it wasn’t. Such is the unpredictable nature of life after brain injury. Things can change on a dime. Yesterday they changed on a doorbell.

At my desk working, the front doorbell rang. It’s actually an uncommon thing these days. The only people who come by are family and they generally walk right in.

I jumped with a startle, took off my computer glasses, and answered the door. It was a neighbor letting us know about a bit of tree work scheduled for next week on our shared property line. She was just being neighborly.

Again, so far, so good. How could the day possibly go bad?

Sitting down at my desk, I reached for my glasses. I am unable to work without my computer glasses. For anyone unfamiliar, they are like reading glasses, just not a strong.

But my glasses were no where to be found. I misplace things ALL THE TIME, so this along was not cause for panic. The stories I could tell.

In my life, you can find anything anywhere. Keys in the fridge? Wallet in my sock drawer? You name it!

I slowly retraced my steps. Then retraced my steps again – and then a third time. No glasses to be found. Another oddity of brain damaged life is that I can look right at something and not even see it.

It’s hard to explain. Perhaps it happens to you.

I rely very heavily on Sarah. She has a keen eye for detail. The words “Hey Boo, can you help me?” are spoken here more than I care to admit. But after a threefold sweeping of the house for my glasses, I knew I needed help.

Together for the next forty-five minutes, we both tore through the house looking. We flipped pillows, looked under the bed, picked up this ‘n that, and did it all over again. It was if an alien spaceship used a tractor beam to extricate my glasses out of the house.

Here’s where it gets tough…

The longer we looked, the more my self-esteem crumbled. One of the biggest struggles I face in my post-TBI life is in dealing with frustration. Frustration for me is a killer. And yesterday, it almost killed me.

As we neared the one hour mark, I was gone.

Spent. No energy left. Feeling totally freaking useless. I felt like a failure. I felt like a complete burden to Sarah. I felt damaged. I felt like things were never going to get better. I felt completely exhausted. The brain fog rolled in, my processing time ground to a halt.

No exaggeration – it felt like part of me died.

All this over the frustration of simply misplacing my glasses.

A couple hours later, Sarah did indeed find my specs. They had fallen between our mattress and bed frame. But by then the damage was done. I was close to non-functional for the rest of the day. A migraine rolled in – brought about my the excessive stress. As much as I’d like to say that I recovered at some point later, I did not.

By 8:00 PM, I was ready for bed, still dejected, deflated and defeated.

Those who know me best know that I always look for solutions. If there is a challenge, how do I prevent its recurrence? I already have five+ pair of distance glasses. Courtesy of Zenni Optical, they cost me $12.00 a pair. Late yesterday, I ordered a second set of computer glasses. They’ll be here in a couple of weeks.

“So, what’s the moral of this story?” Said the guy in the fourth row of my mind, always shouting questions at me at the most importune of times.

No moral. Just a story of what it “feels” like when I struggle. Perhaps you feel less alone in your struggles. Perhaps you now understand what someone you love feels like.

Perhaps you are wondering why you are still reading this.

At the apex of my despair yesterday, I had a complete TBI meltdown as I collapsed into Sarah’s arms sobbing like a little kid. I’ve not had a meltdown like that in a while, but almost twelve years out, I still qualify.

Today I could still feel the hangover effects of yesterdays high emotion. I paced myself, took it slow, and kept a close eye on my glasses.

Today was better than yesterday.

Tomorrow will I again push my limits – something I have done regularly since my 2010 brain injury. Tomorrow I am going skydiving. Yup, it’s time to check that off my bucket list. I’m terrified and excited at the same time.

And as I’ve shared repeatedly over the years, the only way I’ve learned to know my TBI limits is to push perhaps harder than I should.

If you are near Lebanon, Maine tomorrow afternoon, somewhere around 3:00 PM, I’ll be jumping out of an airplane at 14,000 feet.

And that is all I’ve got for today.

~David