Mourning me and insecure after brain injury

I know I have made a strong recovery so far, and I’m grateful. But there are things I still miss about me prior to my accident. Effectively I’m mourning who I was before I had a traumatic brain injury.

If we all have talents, mine was my brain. So where does that leave me now?

I was never going to be a rocket scientist or the next Albert Einstein, but I wasn’t daft. Lets just say if you needed a sharp tool, you’d be pleased to have me in your box. Whilst I wouldn’t say I was an expert in anything, I was still a useful “go to” person. With descent listening and analysing skills, I could help people problem solve most situations.

But I don’t think that’s me anymore. It’s weird because I still have the same curiosity and tenaciousness. So I think I can help, but as things unfold I realise that either I don’t understand properly, or I just can’t see round the issue. There was such satisfaction to be had in feeling useful.

Trying to move on from mourning who I was before a brain injury

 

I’m mourning me even if no one else is.

Like most people who have gone through a life changing experience, some people have removed themselves from my life. And I understand why. We all have had someone in our lives who just changed. We might not know why, but it meant the thing that made them special had been tarnished in some way. Perhaps they got jealous and nasty about something, or stopped being the life and soul of the party so just weren’t fun anymore. Why it happened isn’t relevant, how it makes you feel is all that matters. I know I have been guilty of diluting people from my life when it feels like we’re on different pages suddenly. So I don’t hold it against those who have decided to move on without me.

I still haven’t accepted that something in me is different. So whilst there are people in my life who are proud of the progress I have made, I still disappoint myself.

 

I know I have to move on, I just don’t know where to.

I might get better still, or I might not. What I need to do is focus on things I can develop. My problem is I’ve not ever really understood how I can improve. As someone who isn’t particularly practical (I absolutely hate cooking) I feel snookered without my trusty quick witted brain.

I’m sure there are others who are equally floundering at working out what use they are now. Of course we all do still have a use, but unless it drives by with lights flashing and bells whistling, it’s not always that obvious.

I'm mourning who I was before my brain injury, but I just need to discover my new mission.

Have you been through this mourning process and come out the other side? Or like me are you still looking for the way?

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7 Replies to “Mourning me and insecure after brain injury”

    1. I think it’s because people think we should be so grateful to be alive we should over look the disadvantages. But it’s a natural process we have to go through. I just wish it came issued with an end date so I would know when it’s going to be over.

  1. Yeah, having a end date in sight would be the best gift. Not knowing if this is how my life _is_ now, forever, or if Im eventually going to fully recover is the most frustrating part of all of it.

  2. I have had 2 tbi’s. I can confirm that the period of mourning will end, at least it did the first time. The hardest part for me the first time was realizing that I needed to mourn. Sunday was the 3rd anniversary of my second tbi. I lost it. Sobbing and sobbing … the mourning is beginning.

    1. I’m sorry the anniversary of your second TBI put you in so much distress. I too cry on my anniversary. It’s just a date and shouldn’t be any different from any other day, and yet it is.

  3. It’s strange here I am reading this two or three weeks after celebrating the second anniversary of my ruptured aneurism and subsequent surgery. On the date I remarked to my wife is it correct to celebrate such an event in ones life, we decided that it should be a celebration of life, rather than dwelling on what has been lost. I seem to have two life’s now, before and after my ABI, thinking this way I find is just negative and does me no good at all. I have a life and are adapting to the changes within me, after all we change as get older and adapt to our strengths and weaknesses

    1. You’re absolutely right David. I need to work on it. It’s probably that I’m mixing it in with the loss of my Mum and how Alzheimer’s is stealing my dad.

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