It's My Party and I Would Cry if only I Could

So I don't know who I am. I know I am repeating myself. I'm not sure I have relayed to you as deeply as possible what that means.

It is talking and then realizing that you didn't know you would say that. It is acting on feelings and not knowing why you are being so extreme or at the other end, why you don't care. It is fighting anxiety on a level you never knew before.

The brain is magnificent and delicate. It is amazing and intricate so when it is even slightly damaged, it is unlike any other destruction. Someone having had a stroke is understood. Another dealing with the ravages of Alzheimer's is understood. But a closed head injury is something that few understand.

Sometimes I want to cry, but since the accident that is very difficult for me to accomplish. I don't stay on one emotion long enough or feel it deeply enough. Like a ghost slipping past me in the night, tears come and then swiftly dry up.

Meditation has become my cool water in the heat of the day. It relieves the anxiety and soothes me. It helps me clear my head of the noise. The music of my medication CDs gently drifts in, around, and through my tired brain bringing it peace and comfort. I fall asleep into a meditative state. I wake up refreshed, freed from anguish. I understand myself better but I know it will happen all over again.

If you are cold, move closer. My body heat will warm you up.

The New Me...?

Almost a year and a half later, I still surprise myself at times.

I always kept my thoughts and feelings to myself only sharing when I was with a very trusted ally.  Now I speak my mind with freedom.

I morphed from situation to situation depending on what I thought was the safest way to behave. Now I am the same person no matter who I am with or what the circumstances are.

I used to be able to concentrate on tasks in a way that would freak people out. Now I have to listen to music while I work because instead of it being a distraction as it would have in the past, it helps me to concentrate. Having Attention Deficit Disorder has been one of the harder things to adapt to especially when trying to get things done. I found myself walking around the house taking care of one chore, see another chore, dropping the first chore and then realizing I was supposed to be doing the something else but not remembering what I was originally doing. It took months to teach myself to keep on point. I have learned that when I feel confused the only way out of it is to stop moving both physically and mentally. I don't care where I am; I will stop and get quiet to ask myself, "What are you doing? What should you be doing? What were you doing?" It's like hitting the reset button.

My typing skills have suffered, too. I consistently type letters in the wrong order. That rarely happened before the accident. It still frustrates the crap out of me. I can hear you thinking - "what's the big deal? That's not life and death." Well, for this grammar and spelling Nazi, it can make me want to smash my fist down on my desk.

Speaking of wanting to break things...

Not long after the accident there were a few new things about me that towered above the rest. I wanted to punch the walls. I wanted to drive my car into the ditch. I wanted to destroy things! These overwhelming feelings of destruction were not because I was angry, sad, or bitter. I wasn't angry. As a matter of fact, I didn't give a shit about anything. I felt nothing. My array of emotions had left town and I didn't know if they would come back from vacation. So, I was a dichotomy of wanting to slam my fist into something hard and unforgiving to being void of emotion all at the same time.

When I shared these feelings with my doctor, his first question was, "Are you hitting anything?"

"No. I'm not," I answered back with a meek smile on my face. "At this point I am controlling the urges."

He seemed to physically relax, "Good. Is there anything else?"

"Yes. I am having really bad nightmares. They are like horror movies with people getting torn apart. They are very vivid."

He thought for a few seconds and then prescribed an anti-anxiety drug. "If all of these feelings don't get better, let me know. This is the mildest strength we can go so if needed, we will raise it."

The little pill worked! I was safe around society and the nightmares ceased. But, I still didn't give a damn. That turned out to be a blessing. Work had become a hotbed of personality disorders run amok and my personal life was less than optimal. Poppy (my Chihuahua) and my mother became my safe places. I also developed a close friendship with the only other sane person in the office. Even though she now lives somewhere else, she is still my rock.

Slowly, very slowly, feelings moved back in to one degree or another. Thinking about the range of emotions I have in my color pallet now, I am fine with it. At times I think I am emotionally steadier than I was until I react to a situation like a volcano erupting.

Oh, well. Life wasn't perfect before so why should I expect it to be perfect now?

The cool night breeze feels good. It gently moves my hair. Are you sure you aren't cold?  I'm always hot so I'm not a good judge.

The Car Accident - What Just Happened?

The fire is beautiful as the flames reach up to the stars. Sit close to me.

It was December 15th, 2014, and I was on my way to work. Monday mornings were always bad as the traffic was heavier than the other weekdays. I was about fifteen to twenty minutes into my one hour commute. I was coming up to an intersection that was always a problem because at the light a private high school was on the left. There was a very long left turn lane but the cars still backed up into the next lane over. Even though the light was green, I was forced to slow down and stop. Checking my right side mirror, I saw that traffic was coming too thick and fast for me to merge so I resigned myself to wait it out.

I remember checking my rear view mirror and wondering why the woman behind me was trying to merge into the constant flow of traffic. Before I blanked out I watched the dashboard jiggle in my frame of vision. After that, my next memory is thinking I must have been hit. Why am I just sitting here? I need to get out of the car and look at the damage.

I opened my door and getting out saw behind me two cars and one pickup truck, in that order. Everyone was already talking on their cell phones. I wondered again how long had I been sitting in my car and why were the others so far ahead of me?

I walked around to the back of my car and nothing looked damaged. For a brief second I was elated. Then I walked around to the right side of my car and my elation turned into misery. My beloved Taurus' back right tire was at a 45 degree angle turned into the body of the car. The right rear panel was dinged up. I was not going to drive the car away from this accident. I also thought the damage was a death knell and I would have to buy a new car. Now I was wondering why my air bag hadn't deployed.

I think it was about this time I realized the car was still running so I got in and turned it off. Every action I was taking was an effort. I knew I was all jumbled up and pushed myself to get clear thinking. Phone. I had to call someone. Who do I call? I couldn't think straight.

For whatever reason, and I don't know why I thought it, I knew no one had called the police so I did. I tried to communicate the best I could to the 911 dispatcher where the accident was and how many cars were involved. She asked if anyone needed an ambulance. I called out to the three others her question and they answered that they didn't.

Obediently, I stayed on the phone with the dispatcher until I heard the sirens.

Are you warm enough? It feels good to get this off my chest.