Scene 20 - Hard Time Relating

*************Scene 20 – Hard Time Relating***************

Ever since my accident,
I’ve had a hard time relating to other people.

See,
I know some things,
because of what I’ve gone through -

you know - I almost died,
I’ve seen God.

And other people,
they have a hard time relating to that.

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

One way of “relating” to another person is understanding what he or she is talking about - or, vice versa, having said person understand what you are discussing (see footnote 1 at end).  What’s more - to truly achieve an understanding - persons must have some set of experiences concerning the discussion topic that can been drawn from for reference, and these experiences must overlap in some manner.  If you and I are discussing a “chair”, we both have some concept in our mind of what “chair” is - we’ve both seen countless chairs.  Now, the details of the “chair” our minds conjure as a reference point may vary - my chair is pink and has fluffy pillows while your chair is wooden with a straight back - yet in most circumstances, we can agree upon enough fundamental characteristics of “chair” that we can “relate to” one another when discussing a chair - the phrase “I sat in a chair” causes no confusion.

But if the people communicating do not have an agreed set of meanings from which to work, “relating to” one another is at minimum difficult and very possibly impossible.

What do I mean? - An absurd example: Bob has lived a life completely sheltered from snow - he lives in a land where the temperature never nears freezing, every book or movie or song that refers snow has been banned due to culturally sensitive and/or long forgotten reasons, pictures containing images of snow have either been burned or colored in with yellows and greens and said to be an artist’s interpretation of grass.  For the majority of situations, Bob speaks perfect English, but he has never conceived of the word “snow” - in truth, the idea of putting the “S” sound before the negative determiner seems absurd - “sssNo”.  Coming from these conditions, when Bob meets Karyn the Canadian and she begins to blabber about this thing near her home called “snow”, it baffles Bob - Bob has no experiences he can use to successfully comprehend “snow”.  Granted, using descriptive terms Karyn the Canadian may be able to verbally depict “snow” in a manner that grants Bob an idea of what it is, but this assumes that they have overlapping experiences with terms such as “cold” or “flakes” or “melt” and so on.  Without experiences that can be compared, the concept of “snow” is meaningless to Bob.

The above situation is ridiculous - and I giggled while writing it - but I use it to demonstrate the point that an agreed upon understanding of terms is necessary for communication to be understood in any real manner - terms and ideas must be experientially defined to have any real meaning - and if alternative adjectives are used to define a more complex topic, there still must be some experience that can be referenced in order to understand what these descriptive words mean. 

With that established, I observe that any survivor of a traumatic incident pulls from a set of such experiential definitions that others - those who have not had such an experience - cannot conceive of.  I write as a survivor of TBI - as a survivor I have recognized a shared understanding that exists among fellow brain injury survivors that does not fully translate to those who have not had such an experience - but I presume that every survivor - be the persona a survivor of: TBI, famine, battlefield fatigue, rape or any other trauma - has access to an understanding that is unique to his or her survived situation.  Please note, I do not mean to equate these traumas - each trauma has an un-equatable set of pains and difficulties associated with it - but I group these situations to recognize that all traumas contain a set of “experiential definitions” that will limit a friend or family member - one without such an experience - from completely understanding or relating to the survivor.

I will continue the article discussing only survival after brain injury, because that is an experiential definition I have access to.

In the scene above, Tony specifies some of his experiences - “I almost died, I’ve seen God…” - and he believes, understandably so, that these are experiences that cannot be comprehended - to understand the fully glory of God without such an experience seems impossible.  But perhaps the example of this scene goes too far - the reality of “You can’t understand me because I’ve seen God,” might be an argument that is impossible to refute or defend - so suppose we remove the Divine from this situation.  Instead, we cite the example of a brain injury survivor attempting to communicate the ineffable experience of recovery after TBI: the experience of rediscovering functions of the brain and body that were previously ignored because of their seeming simplicity - testing each ability to discover its limits - relearning and adapting basic skill sets needed to complete tasks that were previously effortless - the experience of attempting to explain this rediscovery process to people who have had no comparable experience…a set of ineffable experiences such as these can make it hard when survivors try “relating to” other people.

This is one reason we must share stories of survival - not to explain the tragedy in any definitive manner, but to provide data points that can be used for those who have not experienced such an event - more information about that which makes the experiential definition of survival.  I argue that with more data points, the experience of survival - while never fully communicable - can become easier to understand for those who are, concerning a particular circumstance, experientially ignorant. 

That survivors can find comfort and support by sharing stories is not an original idea - and many groups have formed around this need - support groups such as this can often be found by searching online for groups focused on one’s particular tragic experience and can hopefully be found in one’s geographical region.  One must be careful, however, as it is possible for conversations among survivors to devolve into “bitching session” that take on a spiteful tone that encourage disillusionment and despair - complaints are an important part of the healing process and pain should not be ignored, but dwelling in pain does nothing to remedy a situation.  When a conversation pushes focus toward only the pain, it is important to remember that there are always moments of beauty and hope - maybe as simple as seeing a butterfly kiss a windowsill as you gaze out your room’s window, or being able to remember a new flavor fed to you by a caregiver, or taking an unassisted step for the first time since the injury - these may seem insignificant, but must be acknowledged as being as real a part of the recovery process as the pain.  Small miracles are still miracles.

Remember, the most miraculous part of any survivor’s story is that he or she has survived, and survival allows life filled with all splendor and pain - minuscule and grandiose - and life encourages a future that contains infinite possibility.  When you tell your story about the experience of recovery, tell all of your story.  Someone who does not have the proper “experiential definition” can never fully understand a survivor’s experience, but the more stories that are shared - the more subjectively informative accounts that exist - the easier it is to “relate to” someone who has had a different experience - to understand the tragedy and the glory of recovery.

I will give one shoutout to an organization that collects TBI survivor stories and I am proud to be affiliated with - TBIVoices, led and organized by Attorney Gordon Johnson of the Brain Injury Law Offices based in Wisconsin.  This group collects and shares stories of TBI survivors so that there is an easily accessible archive providing a collection of examples of what is real in recovery from brain injury - Check it out.

There’s more that I could say, but - to refrain from rambling - let’s call this the article complete.  Please leave your thoughts below.

Footnote 1:  Please note, I recognize there are many other ways of “relating to” another person - many of which might not involve verbal communication at all, instead relying on non-verbal cues or even an emotional understanding that cannot be expressed using language - but I use verbal communication to illustrate my point because it can be recognized, documented, and discussed in a relatively clear manner.  I believe other, more abstract, forms of communication or “relating to” another person follow the same or similar patterns as that which I am about to present - but, for a slightly easier understanding, my remarks will involve achieving an understanding using verbal communication.