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Showing posts with label Choices. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Choices. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 23, 2020

Predictions of Rage

  Rage is an issue for me.  It has been for all my life, but especially since my brain injury.  It’s taken a lot of work, but now I am at least conscious of the dangers rage can create, and I am actively working on finding ways calm any impulses, yet there have been times when it seems that I foresee when a rage will consume me — as if I can predict the future.  It’s a vision in my head that dictates what will occur to ignite my temper.  I do not have this sort of vision often, anymore, but when such a vision does find me it will almost inevitably come true.

Since I’ve recognized that this premonition occurs, absurd questions have popped up.  Am I psychic?  Can I predict the future?  Is there any way to use this talent to make some money?

Recently, a rage struck me.  It was not in anyway dangerous — no one was harmed, no relationships were damaged, but I did used crude, immature language toward another person because the company that person worked for was attempting to cheat me out of several hundred US dollars — I ordered a product that wasn’t delivered and the company acknowledged that the product wasn’t delivered, but they were not refunding my payment.  There was legitimate reason to be angry.  As the situation began to play out I had a vision, and I knew exactly what I would say to this person if they didn’t adhere to the guarantees that had been promised.  I envisioned exactly how the rage would strike and what venom would spew from my tongue.  This was repeated many times on the movie screen of my mind, and at times it would even inspire me to vocalize my anger as I expressed myself to the walls of my apartment with passionate tones, as if I was shouting at the villain while watching a TV program.  And it was very much like criticizing the TV because my vocalizations had no effect — there was nothing I could do to stop it — as it was a vision of what would occur.

So when the worker contacted me to give me bad information, as predicted, and reported the company’s hesitancy in refunding the payment I made, and my vision came true.  The words that had been screened in my mind dozens of times were recited with exactly the same vehemence I had foreseen.  My vision came to pass and I verbally raged at this person.  The immature spite that spewed out didn’t change anything, for better or worse, but it did stain my name.

I am ashamed and embarrassed when a rage strikes.  As I said, I am working to calm these impulses, so when this happened I asked, why?  How could I predict this?  If I had foreseen such an action, why couldn’t I stop it?

In the hope of calming my anger and deciphering answers to my questions, I went for a run.  It was a terrible run, for anger had already drained my body of energy, but as my feet pounded the pavement, I pondered through possible reasons for my loss of control.  Again and again my feet hit the road and again and again potential reasons scrolled through my mind.

As I said, the run was not good, but I did run, and I was able to do some sort of run because I had done it before.  Again and again.  It is a habit of mine.

Again and again.  The reasons for my rage played in my mind.  It was a habit.

Realization!

My “vision” had been playing continuously in my head.  Again and again.  I hadn’t predicted my rage, I had rehearsed it.  My mind had used what was known to anticipate what would likely happen, and then concocted a response based on my history — I had a history of rage, so it assumed I would rage.  With this decision made, the scene that might happen was played with obsessive repetition and ingrained itself in my memory.  Therefore, when the reality revealed itself to be close to what had been predicted — the introduction to the scene — I knew exactly how to act in order to make the “vision” come true.  I said my lines, flailed my arms, and appeared as an ass.

I don’t like that, and my recognition of this tendency allows me to make a choice.  When my mind predicts a shameful response to some situation, I must be aware, and instead of accepting the scene as a prediction, I can decide what alternatives might occur.  How can the scene play out in a manner that doesn’t cause disgrace?  This is not to suggest that I ignore my anger, but instead of allowing it to fester and evolve into a grotesque rage, I can create a scenario that expresses my discontent in a reasonable manner.  By allowing this passive response to play on repeat in my head, I can rehearse what will happen, and through rehearsal habituate this sort of response.

I can make the choice to change my “visions”.  Sure, they will be less dramatic, but this will allow me to live a more joyous, reasonable future, one without moments of embarrassing and damaging rage.

I share this experience because I have heard other people comment on how a situation, “played out exactly as terribly as expected.”  If this sort of premonition ever happens to you, I challenge you to face that prediction and try to expect something else.  Rehearse a different set of actions in your head and see if you can choose a healthier, happier way to live.

Tuesday, December 15, 2020

Acceptance vs. Appreciation

  A lot has been written and spoken about the “acceptance of the reality after brain injury.”  This is acceptance of what has occurred and accepting the person you, as a survivor, have become.  It’s said that one of the goals of rehabilitation should be acceptance of who you are.

        I disagree.  Acceptance should not be a goal but a stop in the road that you visit while traversing the more complete path of recovery.  A person must be comfortable accepting him or herself after TBI, granted, but setting it as a goal doesn’t go far enough.  Saying “all you have to do is accept yourself” is like setting yourself the goal of running a marathon, but then dropping out after five kilometers with the thought, “Well, at least I tried.  I guess I just have to admit I’m just not able to do the whole thing.”  For the marathon of recovery, the goal needs to be that a survivor appreciates the person he or she has become, for by appreciating rather than merely accepting, it gives that survivor the power of choice in the journey that the future will take.

Acceptance is passive.  It is recognizing that the world is happening and believing that there is nothing more that can be done.  Acceptance of a situation is taking one’s hands off the wheel of life, leaning back and saying, “Hey, not my fault — let life drive itself — I’ll just let it do its thing.”  Acceptance might not imply actively a destructive action or encouraging negative thoughts, but it does imply inaction, and if you’re not doing any actions you can’t go anywhere.

 

So be active.  Don’t merely accept what has happened, but appreciate what the injury has allowed you to become.  Note, this does NOT mean appreciating the trauma.  The event that happened is horrific and has caused damage that will resonate in you and your world for all your life.  Tragedy should not be celebrated, but it can teach, and a survivor can learn.  Do the work to find the lessons in a tragedy, and you can discover how to grow.  It is the growth that comes from this learning that a survivor can appreciate.


Appreciating is active, making choices to recognize how to learn and how to grow. Accepting is static.  Appreciating is exciting — it’s being on a quest to discover unexpected gems of understanding buried beneath the mounds of muck created by hardship.  Accepting is boring, and lets the world pass with minimal engagement.  Appreciating is difficult, sifting through the pain and loss in an attempt to find the seeds of growth.  Accepting is also difficult, but can give the appearance of seeming easier, and it almost never offers rewards.


Appreciating is joyful.  Acceptance is blasé.


I contrast these choices here because too often I read and hear discussions about “Accepting who I am after brain injury,” and I find this attitude defeatist, depressing and simply unproductive.  Furthermore, “accepting who I am...” suggests that you are a different person, which is just false.  Brain injury forces adaptations and changes in some ways of living, but the identity of the person is constant — just now he or she is informed by the experience of being a survivor and navigating recovery.  A survivor has not changed, but can grow.


In the next entry I’m going to share some of my experience making the choice to appreciate my self rather than just accept what happened in my own brain injury experience, so check back soon.