...holding back words and tears

...And I want to lash out again. I want to punch garbage cans. I am angry.
....
....and I am scared.
encephalomalacia

is the word running through my head.

and others...

that did not surprise me.

But I suppose I had hoped.

I had hoped that maybe it really was nothing going on with my head

I had hoped that maybe it was just a transference thing that made such a mess of me. Simply that and they were right, it was just me making a big deal out of nothing. 

But then, if nothing had showed and eeg told, then myself I would have loathed

more than I already did. 

So I have the evidence I was hiding from and even trying to hide. Hoping that hiding would make it disappear. Fake it until you make it.

The shaking in my hand. I asked about it then hid it. and allowed it to be brushed off...

I seemed better than I was because I had been through this before

and I did not want to face myself the reality of my injuries. 

My head knew what to do, how to access, and how to stay awake. My body knew how not loose consciousness this time, or at least wake up quick. And my body knew how to not be throwing up sick this time. 

...
"count backwards from 100, by sevens" asks the sports medicine doctor I saw because I could get into him sooner than a neurologist. I try and I can but it is slow and painful. My brain is rerouting and I can feel it.  It is not coming easily and naturally. I am using a different pathway. He says I did good, but I was an elementary school teacher then and those kinds of activities were daily and a particular strong suit of mine. Not a good indicator of injury for me. I made it seem easy for someone with brain injury, though it was not as easy as it had been a couple of weeks prior, before the blow to my head. 

He asks me to repeat some words. They are gone. Completely black in my head. I relax and try to utilize the tricks I have learned. I may have drawn one out without a hint. I don't remember now, but the others for sure, were gone and in that moment it kind of scares me how black and blank my mind is. I felt certain they were gone forever. But he gives a hint and magically the second word appears, but I am not sure how. This is not how my brain usually works. The last word, he gives another hint,  and there it is magically appearing from the black blank void that is happening inside of me. It is there and I can say it but I am did not picture it first, the way I usually do. He says I am doing well. Labels it a concussion. But I know I did not do well. I know he is deceived by my ability, my ability that appears stronger than it is because I have experience with this. I have been here before. It is a strange feeling and the black blank void scares me.

PTSD?

Muscle memory?

I don't know. 

But scary.

because I know the long haul
and I know
I am injured.

I know, even though I don't yet because I had not faced it or learned about it, but still I know the damage and the troubles a TBI can cause... because I have lived it. In ignorance and denial, not just by me alone but by family and those who had power and authority over me.  

...Sports medicine guy; he is the second doctor to downplay and dismiss, to avoid ordering an MRI. An MRI that would have shown what was happening and why. An MRI that would have kept me from returning to soon to the job that fired me... for attendance, memory and anxiety. 

Here and now my feelings are raw again and I feel vulnerable and anxious as I will be waiting months again to get into the "right" people who can help me understand

what is going on with my head...
...
"I am just trying to figure out what is going on with my head and I know I need to stand up for myself but I am not sure what that looks like yet," I tell the facility director that latter will yell at me for asking to be kept in house, to utilize a different neuropsychologist there at the facility I trust and is supposed to have the specialist I need for my mTBI that was maybe not so m. 

Cutting Too Deep.

I take a break from changing out bookshelves as I read about "Deadly Emotions" and I realize that I really do not hate. The description of hate does not match me nor what I feel. Or is it that I feel guilty for hating? No, I do not feel it the way it is described.
So I contemplate, "what is it that I am actually feeling?"
Hurt.
Hurt and sadness.
also confusion; should I believe the messages received?
Anger is necessary -though it too can be considered a toxic emotion- but it is necessary in order to counter those messages received... to keep me alive.
I am at greater risk for suicide because of TBI. I am at greater risk for suicide because of how my brother died. I am at greater risk of suicide because of the bipolar side.
Bipolar was manifesting itself then.
the book about deadly emotions talks about love and how being in love can effect the brain the same way drugs can. It names similar symptoms... it also sounds like mania: euphoria, no need for sleep or food...
Is this why he could not see the mania in me? Because I loved him? He was my drug?
Was I like a drug to him?
or was I simply a toy
and a game
and flattery to his ego
so he labeled it as such, maybe calling me addicted to being in love since I openly stated that I fall in love all the time, though it was not to be taken that way, worded unwise in my state of compromised.
But whether it was the drug of love, TBI, or effects from the other things going on with my brain then, one thing I am certain of: he knew better than I did what he was doing and the mistakes he made. And he held all of the cards.
He can manipulate it however he wants. He knows the industry, he knows psychology and he knows TBI.
It hurts my heart
again and deep
that he and they likely and very literally would rather I die than admit he/they made a mistake or even to simply clarify.
Hurt.
Not hate.
Hurt.
High risk for suicide
coming from at least three sides
Fighting for my life was not a lie
I know the symptoms. I know the reality. I know how and when to hide it. I know how it can hit and take a person before they even realize what they are doing if they are not aware and on constant guard when that is the ailment that plagues you.
Suicide denied.
I fight.
and I will keep fighting
because they lie
to push me to die...
They know better and if they do not then they need to. They are supposed to be the professionals. They are supposed to be the Hipocratic oath takers. They are trusted and turned to. They are paid for their expertise and help. They are the specialists, trusted and admired.
Hits.
Still taking them
The more I learn the more it helps me, yet in the light of these events the sword has another edge that hits with the knowledge that is power; thus the more I learn the more cuts I take and the more it hurts.
Ignorance may be bliss for some
but not to a broken, bipolar brain that doesn't quite work the same
...and was manipulated to take the blame.

high rates of suicide in people with TBI

The more I learn about TBI's the better I understand myself and the more valid I feel.
But I also feel increasingly more angry at the Intermountain Neuroscience Institute the more I learn about TBI.
Like "3 times more likely to commit suicide."
Freaking Jackasses
Such reckless endangerment
and how intentional was and is it?
I am so very angry with how stupid they are or how fraudulent or that they just didn't care for me and so then encouraged suicide.
I am so very angry
so very very angry.
I could be such a valuable asset to them
but instead they would rather let me and even encourage my death.
I hate them.
I hate them because I loved them
and I trusted them.
I hate them because I needed them, if they really are the experts and not frauds.
I will not back down.
I will not back down until they listen.  I will not back down until I am heard, understood, and credited, until they apologize, until they acknowledge and fix the mistakes they have made. Until they make appropriate changes
Or until the entire institution is dissolved.
THIS IS MY FIGHT!!!!!!!
And I will fight