TBI -The Elephant Has Left A Stench Behind of Sadness

ImageLife is a series of moments, one after another and each one must be let go of. In the end, we all will die, what is in the middle is what counts. I encourage you to do the things you want to do. (Noted from a wonderful must see movie, “Now Is Good”, it’s about life).

During monumental changes in life there comes with that change, preponderant questioning of our actions leading to self-doubt. I wish I had the ability to deal my emotions as I deal with the daily mucking of my horses.

Every afternoon I put on my horse jeans, one undershirt and then an outer “mucking shirt” with a surgical mask­­ over my face to avoid the fine manure dust, I wheel out a large green wheel barrel into the paddock of my two Arabians.

First I am met by their soft sniffing muzzles Imageas they walk up beside me to have their backs scratched; it is spring and they are shedding their winter fur. This is another reason for the blue mask, the fur blows all over in clumps while nesting birds wait to snatch some clumps for their springtime nests.

With a turquoise manure rack (I use to have a pink one it broke), I rack a full barrel of manure each day. Wheeling it out the second gate passing the water spout, I stop to place the garden hose into the horses watering trough filling it full with fresh spring water. Steadily, I walk down a hundred feet and dump the manure. This is the magical moment; turning the wheel barrel around, I leave, walk back to my horses listening to them nicker with my dog Sadë, never thinking about that manure, it never crosses my mind; it is gone, a done deal.

If only my emotions were that easy to handle, Dump and leave! Truthfully, it is if we allow ourselves and trust another party to have good boundaries, not judge the fear or emotional agony; walking on egg shells with emotional paraphernalia is an impediment and burdensome. They are not negative, they just need to dump.

At this time I am in an emotional state moving home to Colorado, with two Arabians and the accelerating costs; finding a place to live, I am on a crucial time constraint. The new networks I have joined, questioning my own knowledge; is it good enough, have I studied enough?

Oh just shut up (!!) I tell myself, go muck up after your horses and curie their itching beautiful bodies. ARGH

Emotions are a run-way-freight train for those who have TBIs. Uncontrollable, mixed with enormous frustration of why we cannot control our thoughts, our brains have become a prison where the brain cannot find the doorway out, the mind is like a rat chasing its tail, grabbing onto the tail for dear life (safety is the reason), clamoring to find the doorway out to where we use to function. The repetition of the “brain-rat” grabbing its tail for safety, running through the maze of the brain, trying to jump over the walls, another out, while holding onto the tail for security,Image frantically searching to find the “norm door”, out of our own prison we call our brains….. this unconscious behavior is exhausting, debilitating, anxiety ridden, over-stimulation sets in and we finally collapse in fatigue with paralyzing despair.

This exhaustive time of emotion overwhelms the injured person into such a frenzy of torment that over time all hope is lost. The worse comes to fruition with many suicides.

This is only one example why people do commit suicide with brain injuries (and other life’s traumas); it is the urgency to remove ones’ self from the constant bearing of torment. To cease the existence of suffering anguish. Brain injured individuals are tormented day and night with a plethora of wretched emotions that are unseen to the common caretaker, doctor, therapist or friend and family member. ImageIt is a private persecution inside and the hopes of never having a release takes more than a toll. The vexation needs to ends, and it can!

Most of us confine our emotions (energy) due to public perception. We mask the grim austere energy of emotions. At times, seemingly, there has been a huge Elephant who left a stench and we need to “talk about it”. We carry this stench of emotional baggage around to our therapists, doctors, and friends and family in some form of palpable politically correct venue. TTTHHHPPP!!

Emotions are energy, they need to be “talked about”. Suicide often is a paramount piece of trauma, with the agonized person wanting to leave the experience, get rid of this foreboding experience of loss; the burden is a heavy one and the stench is worse.

Talk about it, talk about it, talk about it. Image

Epiphanies and brilliance arises from the depths of our own despondent despair. Have faith in others, it makes them stronger. When we, the listening party, finally learn to listen – the world becomes an unrestrained universe filled with promise.

All the concussive syndromes that never relinquish their effect on its victim – such as the roaring tinnitus, fatigue, worry, inability to converse in a simple conversation, no longer able to read a short article, roaming from room to room attempting in vein to remember why we got up from the comfortable chair, not remembering what thought just flew the coo-coo’s nest while being left with a pen in our hand and an empty note pad for that thought is now panic. This is a plague that never ceases for many.

The caregiver is left in the dark, attempting to ask questions that only seem to exacerbate the injured individual; and it does. Questions demands more thinking in an already lost tumultuous trap. The emotions come like a tsunami, Imagespilling in all directions without warning and seemingly without reason. The injured person has now reached over-stimulation and is now in a feverish panic attack. What do we do?

Talk about it? Simply be with the person without words? Stand and breathe without saying a word. This is most effective. A simple action we love to see in a sleeping baby or a sleeping love one by our side, better, a sleeping puppy.   Relaxing into the moment, staying with the angst person without judgment, works wonders. Accepting all of our humanness with an open heart.

Drugs, where is the Xanax or klonopin? These are band aids, they mask the emotional culprit under the surface. They may aid in sleep but not the trapped brain of emotion. The horror for the TBI/stroke individual is experienced inside.

Talk about the Hard (Ted Talks http://www.ted.com/talks/ash_beckham_we_re_all_hiding_something_let_s_find_the_courage_to_open_up?utm_source=newsletter_weekly_2014-02-22&utm_campaign=newsletter_weekly&utm_medium=email&utm_content=talk_of_the_week_image ).

There were times during my TBI ordeal (ten years’ worth), where I did not want to be in my own skin, I could hear myself screaming from inside “let me out of here”. With that I would tell my beloved dog Sadë to stay away from me.

I would go outside wanting to hit ~ scream or kick my way out of my brain. I was crumbling from fatigue. More, what I found out was I was not sleeping at night, no REM sleep, nor rest during the day, I was seeing doctors and therapist every day for eight years. No one suggested, get rest! Rest and REM sleep are imperative to TBI/Stroke or any brain damage, to have the safety in hours of uninterrupted REM sleep ~ deep dreams to allow the emotional trauma to be dealt with on an unconscious level. Not to be analyzed the next time one sees a therapist. Let it go.

shhhhThe word “suicide” is a mammoth trigger for therapist, case workers and doctors. Instead of listening to what the person is wishing to rid themselves of, it is taught that providers are to whisked the troubled person to the hospital or 911 is called and further torment is ensued; overstimulation compounds the problem. Suicide is kept locked deep inside where no one will hear about the inexorable emotion.

The fact is, suicide needs to be talked about! This all common emotions requires a safe place where no other person except a trusted person hears the agonizing thoughts and feelings, not to be threatened with fear of outside providers. Suicide is a hot bottom for many, and if the agonizing person is not heard, eventually this once tiny flee of emotion becomes a Siberian Tiger stalking the internal victim to kill; and often it is successful.

Whereas, all that is necessary is simple, to be heard of the torment inside. Allowing the green wheel barrel to be filled then emptied far away; forgotten about.

It is built up emotion “energy” that is never allowed to emote. The emotion of the current state of mind, the TBI person is imprisoned by their own brain; just listen. No words need to be said, no comfort needs to be offered, no hands on the shoulders or lap, just listen to the pain without fear or judgment.

Personally, as a writer and a person who recovered from multiple TBI’s, living through all the debilitating emotions (which at times still raise their ugly dragon presence), I agonized over writing about suicide. The final thought came to me, I had to bring the stench out in the open. Trauma is emotional! And we must have a safe place to express the miserable viral persecutions. A safe wheel barrel to dump somewhere, leave it behind, let go! We as a society are sickened in hiding of emotional energy.

These emotional torments are not the simplistic everyday angst while accomplishing a goal or wishing to be done with a project. The idea of going out and tossing a Frisbee, or hike a couple of miles with your dog (although this might help) is not the first curative. A person who suffers a life that has been taken from them, their brain function has been distorted as they enter some horror movie, their entire function in life is gone for a period until they are able to reorganize and remap their brains entails an arduous commitment of relearning in behavior and physical function.

Yes it is Springtime, Imagethe birds such as Robins and Warbles bring beautiful songs stretched out in a colorful array of blooming trees. Once the moment of emoting is complete (for this moment) I suggest continuing the positive experience and head for the closest egress to feast ones’ eyes on the magnificence of nature, taking in while lifting your head to the sunshine – maybe a smile might form on your face.

Here is another idea, a movie to watch: “The Intouchables” You may wish to brush up on your French or feel comfortable reading subtitles. It is about Life and the joy we all can share if we allow the oddities of joy to fill our lives.

Eventually with work and help the concussive syndromes (for the most part) will come to an end. I recovered from more than half dozen TBI, I am a better person for my works, you will be also. You are the same person inside, and as your brain reorganizes into new functioning neuronets, the phenomenon of the brain (a universe in its self) will RECOVER! You are still be fully functional, and the outcome as your recover, the process will lead you into a life of knowledge; for you are changing how you think and that changes the functionality of your performance. You Get to be A Better person! AWESOME! Life begins a new, celebrate and LIVE. You have another opportunity most will never fathom or dream of such a chance in one lifetime.

ImageBe kind. Be patient. Learn to listen, breathe like a sleeping puppy.

And please share this blog with others for they also need more than a Shimmer of Hope. Life is one experiential moment after another.

TaTa

MicheleElys

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Brigitte says:

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    Liked by 1 person

    1. MicheleElys says:

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      Like

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