the straight jacket

I don't know how I am going to explain all of this. I don't know how I am going to "file a complaint" yet. I am not sure what direction to take, who to take this up with, and yet I know I need to in order to resolve this for me. My life has in some ways come to a halt because of it and I want to move past this.
I was foolishly hoping that I could talk to my captor outside of his professional restraints. I believed if I could he would not be as tempted to use his Jedi mind tricks and that they would not work so well outside of his palace of power. Snowboarding could have freed his mind as it is a place of friendship and fun where safety is always the first priority, so I hoped he might come take a lesson from me or at least be willing to meet up in an environment like that. I hoped that I could help him see better what I was trying to explain about still needing him. I hoped it could be a place where he could safely explore the "human" element that was effecting him so profoundly. I was not afraid of this because I know my boundaries and I know that I am not a threat. I also really did understand the transference and counter-transference and some of the parallels that were taking place. I also wanted him out of his office and professional place because something or someone there had him convinced that I was a liability, which I was not. He believed (and still does) that I was a liability to himself, I was not and am not a liability, danger or threat. He was so afraid of loosing his license because of me, which I knew was irrational. It was frustrating.
...or diabolical. I can't be certain there because I don't truly know his intentions and what he was so fearful of (although he did say it was not me "I am not scared of you," he said when I was talking about how people are afraid of me).
It is a deeply unsettling situation and event that transpired at a time when I was already unsettled.

Flashback to the year 1991:
"I remember the feeling of that," I exclaimed to my mom when we were talking about the events that transpired between the time I took the blow to my head while sledding and I awoke in the hospital the next day; the events that I had no memory of. It had been a year or more since the accident but the whole story had still not been fully told to me. I did not know the details of my story.
They had put me in a straight jacket at one point because I was thrashing, crazy, fighting and out of control and, though I had not and would not regain any other memories from that day and a half, I remembered the feeling of the heavy canvas swaddling me tightly into myself. It was soothing. It helped me feel safe and comforted as something else was able to take control of my out-of-control body and my broken brain. It was the straight jacket that calmed me. I remembered the feeling and I still remember it in a very endearing way. Sometimes I long for it. Irony or paradox?
Present:
That is how my therapist felt to me. He was soothing and comforting as he took control and at times held me tight with his methods, teaching me how to take care of myself while restraining something that felt out of control. He was my straight jacket when my emotions were out of control and my mind was so broken.
I knew I was going to loose him eventually but I did not see it coming when and how it did. I was not as physically broken as I was when I was a child and he was not a straight jacket but when I lost that comfort, at that moment it broke me in a new way. It broke me in ways that were familiar but also in a way I have never experienced before.
It was and still is confusing.
And I have, at times, longed for a straight jacket

writing because I'm bored

Nobodies home.
I'm to tired to write and send the emails that I really need to get done. If I try I am likely to make some silly mistakes which are fine here but not there.
So I am lazily watching television
and only feeling a tiny bit not at all guilty about it.
But I must admit I feel a little bored.
Funny thing is awakenings
those happen for me from time to time. And it not really a funny thing at all. Often it is very embarrassing. It confuses me how I got so turned around. And yet it is not confusing at the same time. The boring now is my mind resting. It is resting because it has been so busy trying to get straight again.
Boring can also happen after highs. Highs can be fun but when they are over the world is not so exciting and you kind of wonder what you are supposed to do with yourself now.
I wonder, sometimes how "normal" this is.
So many things are so much more common than we realize... But somehow I am not common. I really do confuse people.
I can tell you why. At least some possible reasons. And I can tell you why I scare people. I scare people because I figure things out. Sometimes before I even know that I have figured anything out at all. That or I have not attached the same meaning and/or judgement and they don't realize that. I also will call it out, but likely again, not with the same meaning and judgement they are expecting so that is confusing and confusing can be scary to people. Also it can be scary if a person knows they are doing something wrong.
Their interpretations and actions associated take me time to figure out and I may not always be right or correct but I am open to explanations and discussion. Problem is often others are not, but if you are doing something wrong I will eventually figure it out.
So this may seem like directionless disjointed ramblings, but it is not.
It is how my brain works at times. It is how I figure things out.
It all started with an injury that left my brain damaged. It left a void in my processing and the bumping, bruising and rattling that triggered firings and misfirings of epic proportions needed to settle and then work themselves out. I have been thinking about brains a lot this last 15 or 16 months because mine was shaken again and it woke up familiar feelings and experiences. I remember being able to actually feel my brain rerouting as a sports medicine concussion doctor asked me questions to test my level of concussion or something like that. I could tell my brain was not taking the same paths or that those paths had been disrupted and yet I knew how to compensate; though it was slower I instinctively knew how to relax and let it work through the process. I felt that with the chiropractor who first realized I had a concussion that needed to be addressed. He had me remember some words that I would not have otherwise remembered except I automatically recognized a pattern that helped them stick. The pattern had to do with the shapes of the letters and how they matched if turned certain ways. The funny thing is prior to the concussion I would not have immediately recognized that pattern. There were other things that I picked up on with heightened senses as well. Almost like super powers. And yet I couldn't remember peoples named or faces and many other annoying things.
I saw an fMRI picture of a brain after concussion and it has stuck in my head. The brains efficiency is less effective as the whole brain is lit up. Normally our brain fires in very specific areas according to the task that is being preformed but the concussion or injured brain (if I am remembering correctly) right after injury is firing all over the place which is part of why it is so tired. But I have this theory  that as the brain fires all over and begins to reroute it becomes aware of those parts that have been forgotten or unused. It learns that there are more places to go and more ways to do things. It realizes it has other resources to access. It has made connections and knows how to make connections that the undamaged brain doesn't even know exists; which is hard for the undamaged brain to understand.
Its boundaries truly are different.
Bipolar- they say
depression
anxiety
these are places the brain can go or can get stuck. Had I not a damaged brain I may have never experienced these places at all, whose to say? (I was 12) but in my damaged brain they are more manageable  because I can reroute. I know how, even when I am not cognizant of it.
That is what happened when I hurt so bad from the feelings of rejection and like I had done something wrong -at the moment my buried self started to reveal itself in what was supposed to be a safe place with a person who I trusted, admired, and cared deeply for. It was an unbearable pain. It was far more than I could handle.
My brain accessed mania. Intense happy and too much dopamine. It was a fun place, but, as this article https://positivepsychologyprogram.com/dark-side-of-happiness-why-too-much-good-thing-is-not-a-good-thing/ points out too much happiness can be... dangerous. And mania can most certainly be dangerous. If for no other reason than your body is going to eventually get sick if you keep running on so little sleep (which it did).
It accessed this place to fight the pain. To hold onto the good. And to get me over a hurdle that would have otherwise destroyed me. My brain has that ability. and not because I am any mental illness label but because it knows how to use those parts and come back from it when it is safe again.
Not without solving. Not without fixing. I am constantly collecting and analyzing, categorizing and sorting information, trying to make sense of where it belongs, if it belongs, and how it belongs. I need to know how and where this information fits so I can figure out how and where I fit.
Fixing has become such an innate part of me that I automatically do it without even trying. I need to fix to survive. I need to fix to find value and meaning to myself. I need to fix to fight depression that comes from many sources.
I need to fix to convince myself I belong in this place that doesn't understand me and very often rejects me in very harsh ways.
So that is my bored explanation of the crazy that embarrasses me from time to time, (though it has been a long time and to date and I do not remember a mania so intense) and the depression and other places I sometimes find myself waking up from.
It sounds much more intense than it usually is but maybe it is much more intense, but it is my normal. That is why very little scares me.
And there are so many stories to tell
but now it is time for sleep
so I can teach life lessons through snowboarding tomorrow. "your intellect has to override your instinct" I tell my students to help them learn how to ride in control by leaning down hill into their turns.

12 again

At age 12 when I returned home form the hospital after the sledding accident that damaged my brain, my parents thought it would be a good idea and good use of my time, since I could not return to school for sometime still (2 weeks or more, I don't remember), to write thank you cards to all the people who had given me gifts while I was in the hospital.
I cried when I remembered this.
I could not even do my homework or remember what the teacher who had come to my house had told me. I remember being back at school later and my mom being angry with the school for my failing grades. I remember the teacher asking me about all the work and assignments she had left with me and had taken the time to explain. I remember her disappointed look as I couldn't really remember it or what she had left me with.
I felt responsible for my moms anger.
I felt responsible for my teachers disappointment and the schools troubles.
I felt bad about the thank you cards I had not written...by myself with no help.
I felt bad for my family since they were the ones who remembered all the traumatic stuff but I got all the gifts.
They were glad that I was fine. That I had "fully" recovered. It was miraculous, I am sure.
But it was not.
I was not okay. I was not healed. My brain and who I was, was not the same and that didn't matter.
I learned that my needs were secondary. That my healing was less important. I learned that I needed to protect others from my injuries.

I vaguely remember the follow up with the neurologist. I vaguely remember him saying something about therapies, I was looking forward to it. But they never happened, because I was "fine."
It has been a cycle that has continued throughout my life. "your needs are more important than mine, so I will be fine for you, try to help and try not to be a burden, then maybe you will value me, maybe then I really will be okay."
It doesn't work.
It has broken me again and again.
It is time to change that I think.
...and yet the place that was supposed to be able to see that, to define it, to help me see it for what it is, made the same decision about me, even when I was trying so hard to explain that I needed their help. I'm that good at playing the part now I suppose. It breaks my heart again and again.
And currently I am tired. I did not leave 20% and this processing that feels important and needed is maybe not going to work as well or read as well as I'd like but I'll leave it, because it is my reality and part of this sometimes very slow process.