Scene 26 - Had Things

************Scene 26 - Had Things**********

Tony, used to have things.

I had, you know, THINGS

Things like
a car, house,
job, career, friends
I had a lover, I had things.

And then, just like that -

it’s all gone.
Now all I’ve gots is myself.

***************Commentary****************

As self-awareness returns after brain injury, it’s easy to feel as though everything has been lost. Physical skills and mental functions are compromised — an obscene portion of personal wealth is dedicated to immediate medical and rehabilitation care — prospects for employment have likely been severely limited — relationships compromised — difficulty completing previously simple independent tasks — memories torn from the conscious…the sense of loss after brain injury is a long and depressing list.  It’s easy to feel like Tony does in the scene shared above — that “all I’ve gots is myself” — but this is not true.

After brain injury, life changes — there is no denying that — and the sudden switch of one’s friendships and social abilities is devastating — easily leading a person down the rabbit hole of isolation and loneliness.  It feels like no one understands — how could they — and because no one understands, the only person you can rely on is yourself.  A survivor is left alone to grieve his or her loses with solipsistic depression.  It is not easy to climb out of this rabbit hole, but remaining in this hole is a choice. 

Now, is tempting — its easier to just remain — when you’re alone in the hole, there is no conflict — minimal investment in activities, and therefore minimal risk of loss — most other people will not want to enter this hole with you, so you will not need to explain your difficulties — but while you’re in a hole there’s no-way/no-where to grow.  A hole is a space that keeps others out by containing or trapping what is inside — isolation — and without room to stretch or flex — without the sun from outside to give energy — more than a majority of people will not be able to grow.  A survivor who becomes trapped in the false security of a hole limits his or her ability to grow — not learning how to utilize the new set of skills — continuing to loose social comfort from a lack of practice — not grasping the full beauty of possibility that exists in the reality of being alive.

As survivors, we are alive — and being alive mean accepting a new reality.

After brain injury, there are many parts of life that you thought were stable, but can no longer continue.  My personal journey included friendships dissolving, changing my plans for college, future professional dreams seeming to become squashed — I felt as if life had decided to abandon me. 

I was forced to change.


I was fortunate to have one situation that did help to facilitate this change — I was leaving my high school setting.  My situation allowed me to attend a local college that is literally across the street from my parents’ house — not where I had hoped to attend, but it allowed me to step lightly into college education while living at home — and as with most college freshmen, I was thrust into a new group of peers and teachers — people who did not know me and therefore did not have a history of what I “used to be like”.  I was starting from square one, and forced to create relationships with people based on who I am now — who I was at that moment — not who I was in my pre-injury life.  My anonymity allowed me to more easily discover the person I had become.

After experiencing an injury, it may be helpful to change your social settings — if you need to find new employment, embrace this opportunity — join new community activities — bring new people into your life by volunteering for charity groups — seek out support groups from brain injury survivors where you can share your story with people who better understand and can relate to your situation.  Finding new groups of friends and peers allows you to build a life where people learn to like and respect you for who you are — not who you were.

However, tied to this search for new social groups there should be a healthy amount of caution — talk with trained professionals as you try new ways social interaction.  The Brain Injury Network webpage states, “Our position is that support groups for people with brain injuries should be operated by people with professional level training in some field related to brain injury.”  This is done to ensure the safety of advice given to survivors as well as to create a clear accountability system for any advice — peers with brain injury may have the best intentions when giving advice, but do not always have the professional training necessary in understanding of benefits and dangers of suggestions.  That applies to advice from this blog as well — I have not yet received professional training, and, while my advice comes from research and experience, I am not a professional rehabilitation coach.  My advice comes from experience, research, and reasoning — but it is still untrained advice.

As a side note, if anyone reading this can suggest ways I can find more professional training while living outside the United States (I currently live in China), please leave notes below.  I am interested in increasing my knowledge and would love to gain a more complete understanding of these processes so I can speak and suggest advice from a better educated position.

But back to the subject at hand…

Some reading this may feel that this method of handling the pain of loss after brain injury (finding new friendships and social groups) is too idealistic — that the process of “forming new friendships” and “accepting your new set of skills” seems too obvious and candy-coated — and while researching this article, I came across comments to other articles dealing with issues of grief and loss that criticized the author for not recognizing the reality of difficulties faced by individual survivors — that attempting to cover the whole of recovery with a blanket statement about recovery is not helpful. 

I do not think this criticism is flawed, but I would like to preempt such comments toward this article by acknowledging that I recognize the paths I suggest are presented in a way that is falsely uncomplicated.  It is not easy to change peer or social groups, especially when you are tied to a setting due to family and/or work obligations.  There will still be the pain of change and loss — and there will be new social difficulties as you learn how to utilize a new set of skills.  I present my thoughts in the hope that they can help provide some direction — some path to start exploration.  The goal of this article is to help a survivor recognize that you do not need to be alone — that believing “all I gots is myself” is a choice.

That said, I do encourage comments below — be they critical or otherwise.  I am eager to read your thoughts on this topic so we can continue and deepen the conversation.  But if you don’t leave a comment, thanks for reading and I hope we can chat sometime soon.


Please leave comments below.