See, this is the thing that nobody around me seems to understand with TBI — that things get out of hand, even (sometimes especially) when I’m trying to stop the slide. I know things are getting out of hand. I can feel it. I know I need to keep things from getting out of control. I’m trying like crazy to get myself to stop, I’m trying like crazy to think it all through and protect the people around me, I’m trying to reason with myself and get myself under control before I do/say something I can’t take back, but no amount of thinking helps. It’s like there’s this wild junkyard dog lunging at the end of its chain, and it doesn’t listen to reason.
It rips the sh*t out of everyone, including myself. And the rips last for days with me — even weeks. Other people can forgive and forget, but I can’t get away from the recollection of how I was. I can’t get away from the reminders of how I talked and behaved towards my spouse. I can’t get away from the reinforcement of the fear and the anxiety around me, and the effect that has on my spouse’s life and health. They’re diabetic, and I am pretty darn sure that my TBI in 2004, and all the craziness that came out of it, played a significant role in their blood sugar going out of whack. I’m not blaming myself for them not taking care of themself, but I know for a fact that I have not been easy to live with for quite some time, and that can wreak havoc on a person’s glucose levels.
Not to mention their peace of mind.
I do pretty well with having compassion for myself and being forgiving and not beating myself up too badly after my episodes. The thing that gets me is the physiological after-effects. And this is the part that I think a lot of TBI recovery and rehab folks overlook — the subjective, emotional and mental effects of the physiological “flood” that swamps us. All that adrenaline, all that rage, all that violence (be it internal or external) soaks our system full of pain that manifests as depression and confusion and fog. And it can take a long time to clear it out. Days, in fact. Sometimes weeks.
Fortunately, I have all day today to myself to decompress, take care of myself, feed myself properly, get some exercise, and examine my life to see what the hell I am doing. I keep thinking that I’m getting so much better in my recovery and that I never have any problems with volatility anymore, but the fact of the matter is, I do. When I least expect them. This volatility is insane — literally. It is just like a wildfire that spreads quickly and takes over, and no amount of reasoning is going to stop it from doing its worst.
Ironically, it often happens when things have been going really well for a while. And it usually happens after a “day off” after a long and stressful week, when I have had a nap and the evening is approaching. I relax and take it easy all day, and I don’t look at my lists of things to do, and things are going well… until the evening, when I start to get antsy and “spring a leak” with all the churning, pushing energy inside me. All my pent-up restlessness spikes and shoots right out of me like wild solar flares — at whomever is nearby, which is usually my spouse, on Saturday evenings.
I suspect it may have to do with anxiety that comes up in me about the things I was “supposed” to get done during the day, but didn’t. I have a whole list of things I need to get done these days, some of them more critical than others. And when I don’t look at my list and figure out where I am in the process, I get extremely anxious and can freak out — like I did last night. I think I’m doing myself a favor by taking a break from the list, but it’s actually making things worse.
Bottom line is, I need my lists. I need to keep my bearings. And I need to learn to shut the hell up, when I feel myself getting going. I can be such an a$$hole at times. It’s not fair to anyone. I’ve gone off on too many people in my day, because my temper got the better of me, and it hasn’t helped me. People say they can handle it, but the fact is, they’d rather not deal with it. I’ve lost jobs over this stuff — good jobs. Jobs that kept me out of debt. I’ve been paying for my aggressive restlessness for years, now, and so has my spouse.
So, today is another recovery day for me. I’m all alone in the house, which is good. This wild animal needs to just prowl around in my space and let off some steam. Go out for a really good walk — not just a walk, a real hike. Up the side of the mountain and down again. Work off some of this energy. Give it somewhere to go that’s constructive and positive, instead of turning on me and everyone around me. Get myself in line again. And settle in to get some things done.
Not everything. But some things.
And take some naps. Not just one. Perhaps two or three. Short little 20-minute naps that refresh me and keep me going. Real breaks that get me out of the grind that takes over. Something good and substantial.
I also need to get out in the day. Part of the problem yesterday was that I was inside and by myself most of the day. I didn’t feel up to going out and doing things, like I usually do on Saturday mornings, and being relatively sedentary and isolated does a number on my head. I literally need to get out of the house and interact with other people, in order to stay sane. It’s a challenge for me, these days, because I haven’t been hearing very well lately, I’m dizzy and foggy, and I just don’t feel like interacting with people much at all nowadays.
But I have to get myself to do it. It’s not optional. I’ve got to do it. Push myself. Challenge myself. Make myself leave the house and even just go to gas up the car. Interact. Get out of my head and out of my house. “Taking a day off” is not something that’s very good for me, actually. It’s not a break — it’s a bit of a torture at times. It’s much better if I pace myself and do at least something useful and directed each day, especially on “days off”. Pushing myself a little bit to interact with others and take care of things is the one sure way I can make sure I’m not getting stuck in a rut and starting to believe all the crazy sh*t in my own head. That can happen so quickly. And the results are not that great.
So, yeah – my lists. Having everything written down in front of me only helps. It can be a little overwhelming at times, but in fact the challenge of making sense of it all helps to focus and calm me. There’s something about pushing myself just a little bit that clears my head, and that’s what I need. To push myself a little bit, focus in, and clear my head with the challenge.
Of course, then I can get into the whole overdoing it thing, and then I run the risk of turning into a crazy person like last night, but if I can keep a balance and not throw too many unusual and unexpected things in the mix, I can manage to keep my act together.
And make progress. Because it’s not just all about keeping things calm and level and uneventful. It’s also about making real strides forward to where I want to be and what I want to be doing with my life. It’s not just about maintaining — it’s about growing and improving.
That being said, I’m going to make myself a couple of eggs and have some good protein. My head is still foggy and dull, and I need a little something to perk me up. Protein does that. And it will get me up from this desk and computer… get me going in the direction I should be.
Yeah, I feel like crap — physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually — after the scene last night. But it’s not the end of the world, and as long as I give myself time to really recover today — and ease back into what the next week is bringing in another 24 hours — I can recuperate and get my balance back.
And be a sane person for my spouse in the morning.