Scene 18 - The Return...Almost

Happy New Year everybody!  Its been a while since I've posted - I got caught up in the holidays activity and my end of semester teaching work...but I'm back.  I've got a lot of exciting plans for this year ahead, including some future work with this piece, so please keep reading and I look forward to sharing stories with you!

But now...for the first post in the new year...

************Scene 18 - The Return...Almost*****************

For Larry, this is his second stay at the Crumley House.

Only had one accident, but two stays,
see, the first time I stayed at the Crumley house, I had just graduated high school,
and I heard all these stories in my school about people getting ready to…
go to college…get a job…I don’t know…
DO things…
and I wanted to Do things to,
and I couldn’t at the Crumley House, there are so many rules and restrictions, and I couldn’t DO all that I wanted to Do -
So I left.

I went out, found a…job…
stayed at an apartment with some -
some people I knew, and…

it was hard.
Like, no one understood -
where I was coming from, why I needed help sometimes, and…

I got real depressed.

So I thought back in my life, to when I was happier,
and I remembered my time at the Crumley House,
see there, people knew what I needed,
understood me, where I was coming from.

I had friends there
and I didn’t feel…
Different.

************************************************

As a survivor, I deeply appreciate this story. 

I admit that I do have an affinity towards Larry’s stories - because we are close in age - but this story is particularly moving because it begins as a story about The Return - the move from the safety of a rehabilitative environment to the noise-chaos-danger-excitement that is the modern world.  This transition is one that every survivor must make - the return to one’s former life, or some variation of that, is one of the goals - spoken or unspoken - in recovery.  A survivor wants to find some semblance the life that was, but moving from a hospital environment to one’s former setting - to use choice language - is a big F-in’ change.  This change will cause Hope, Pain, Joy, Anger, Faith, Inspiration, Frustration….  

The survivor has changed -

Yet, those in the survivor’s previous life (family, friends, colleagues…) have not - at least not to the same recognizable degree that the survivor has changed - and thus will likely not understand that magnitude of these physical and emotional changes.  Supporting friends, family, colleagues say -

“You’re out of the hospital - you’re walking!  You’re Alive!  Oh my God - Congratulations!  YOU DID IT!  I’m so happy for you - now lets go hangout exactly like we did before.”

but a survivor cannot live exactly how they did before.

The inevitability of change after TBI is a theme we have harped on throughout these writings, but I am using this entry as an opportunity to recognize that, while a survivor has changed, the world that the survivor came from has not.


A survivor may understand that he or she must interact with the world in a new manner, but that world (friends, job, school…) has likely not been prepared for this, and should not be faulted for being unable to accommodate said survivor.  Every person is relentlessly bombarded with difficulties to some degree, and the challenge of adapting to a survivor’s new set of skills is a burden for which most people don’t have the time.  And let’s be honest, it’s not fair for people on the peripheries of a survivor’s social circle to be expected to take on such a task - a survivor should be able to call attention to his or her new abilities in any setting, but the challenge of learning how to fully use these new abilities is the survivor’s responsibility. 

That said, it is tiring and may feel self-defeating to repeatedly need to explain one’s new skills - especially when those trying to listen just don’t have the training or experiences to understand the changes.  In Larry’s words, “No one understood - where I was coming from, why I needed help sometimes…”

This story begins as a story about the Return, but it takes a turn when Larry decides to go back to the Crumley House - to not return - at least not yet - to continue rehabilitation in a setting that is safe and supportive.

This is NOT giving up.

This is accepting what is and adjusting plans in order to make a more complete return when the time is right - when a survivor is ready.  A person cannot grow without support, and if a survivor is not ready for the Return - does not have the support he or she needs - attempting to make the transition can leave a person flat.  Larry did not find the support he needed - no one’s fault, it is simply what was - and was fortunate that he had the wisdom to return to the Crumley House where he knew this support existed - where he could be his new self and more fully grow.


To finish, in Larry’s words, “…There, people knew what I needed, understood me, where I was coming from.  I had friends there and I didn’t feel…different.”