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Thursday, January 17, 2019

My Beautiful Broken Brain and other such sources of strength

Over the course of a few days I have watched the Netflix documentary "My Beautiful Broken Brain" about a lady named Lotja that had a stroke at age 34 that left her with brain damage. Her story and recovery seem to be much more severe and extreme than what I went through at age 12 but she also received a lot more help in her recovery so it is a very interesting show for me to watch. I am can relate to much of what she says and some of her experiences. It is fascinating to see her blank-not-blank stares and then her intense happy smile and the shine in her eyes that has behind it an interesting new world that is fascinating and easy to get lost in; the world that "brain injury" has opened up. Some people might call it neuroplasticity and others chemical electricity that causes the firing up of cells and/ neurotransmitters. What ever you call it I can see the world she is in and it makes me feel happy that she can see it and appreciate it for the fascinating place it is. It validates me.
She says a few things I'd like to repeat"
"The film is a really, really important part of this story. ...absolutely born off necessity. It's created a way for me to understand something that is extremely complex and it has created a structure. a narrative structure for me to understand my own story."
"reality is only what we believe and perceive to be true. That makes absolute sense to me. And very little does to me these days."
something to the effect of "It takes a very long time for you learn how to live in your new brain" -
At one point she asks David Lynch if he thinks the brain is the engine of the mind or vice versa.

These and other things really resonate with me.
The film being the narrative born of necessity to help her understand and give structure to something that is extremely complex is an excellent description and explanation for my current writing. Writing helps me process and understand. It helps me move forward. Talking also does. It is not all that I do it is just the part of me that is really working to get through somethings that have turned so much more complicated than they needed to. Whether that is entirely my own fault and of my own making or whether I have just landed myself in a series of unfortunate events that have left me at the mercy of others and led me to this very bizarre place I do not know but that is not what matters most right now. What matters most is what I do about it.
I wish for people understand what has made this last year and a few months so complicated. My brain was injured. But is was also scarred. Scarred physically from an injury that would leave permanent damage and scarred in many other ways as well. The whole picture, all variables, needed to be taken into account and I am sad to say that the researcher that claimed this and treated me lost sight of that with me.
It has been extremely difficult to relive events from your youth that were painful. It is hard to be processing as an adult and a child at the same time. It is difficult to know that so much of you had been lost for so many years because you had not received proper care from the first injury. Mood changes, school struggles, friend problems, balance, push crash cycles, language skills, understanding and being able to read social situations and cues, decision making skills, all of those effected my life and slowly transformed me into who I had become prior to the car accident concussion. The car accident itself led to a whole new set of problems that were then overlooked or over treated as my brain was a new mess of processing and reprocessing that was effected by the way it had learned to cope before.
I knew I did not want to take another 20 plus years to "stabilize" and figure out my world. I knew I wasn't terribly happy with the world I had figured out and I wanted help this time. Help that was not exclusively directed by and figures out by me, the untrained professional.
It was not easy to find that help, but I did find it. It was the absolute best help I could find and I was thrilled. I had to drive farther and I knew I may have to pay more, but it was worth it.
But then tragedy struck at the moment I started to break through and really start to recognize and work on the changes and acceptance that needed to happen to help me heal from both injuries I was dropped. Told I no longer needed treatment and abandoned... All because I recognized my own transference and/or I suggested counter transference that was neither confirmed nor denied but sure earned me a scarlet letter real quick. It is so confusing and immensely more painful than imagined. That rejection, that theft of healing is a make or break you moment. There is not a rational and/or predictable reaction to your own grief and trauma and it usually effects us more profoundly in ways that we never could have ever predicted. Traumatic events are like that, they turn you into something you are not and then you have to figure out the new you with the new insights and experiences that will forever change your perceptions and that you cannot return from. This has been traumatic. I have lost my chance at healing all over again. I have lost my youth and my sense of self worth again. This time stolen with my heart and faith in the system that was actually built to help and protect me in my situation. Then to try and separate yourself mentally from the person that has taught you so much and planted in you how to overcome the very trauma he has caused... It is not a simple task. Why is it not more obvious how damaging this is?
It is unjust and unfair and I don't want to fight the industry. I'd rather utilize, appreciate, love and help. ...and ironically that may be the very thing that got me into trouble. It breaks my heart again and again.
But through it I am finding hope and beauty and though I have felt still more rejection I am choosing not to break. I have also learned who some true friends are and where my strengths really lie.
...And I still type and write in hopes that I may help myself and others because this was not deserved and if my story can help relieve the suffering to any degree or can help people see that there are other ways to do things, ways to work together and not against each other, than it is worth it. It is worth the pain and the reprocessing, the uncomfortable situations and even the embarrassment. I will not be shamed and I will not be blamed. I will fight again for me and my brain.

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