A year later (compassion: we all have some crappy things we need people to understand)

Yesterday I felt really upset and sad that I got a concussion last year. A year–seems like this should be done now, right? When I had my first concussion, everything felt pretty normal again a few months later. This time, it’s been almost a year, and I don’t feel like myself.

I think the last of the physical and mental effects wore off months ago–at least the effects directly from the concussion–but I’m still trying to get past the after-effects of those first effects. Like when you go from running miles and miles every week to suddenly hardly being able to go for walks. Now my head isn’t keeping me from going for runs. Now I just can’t go for runs because I lost so much strength and didn’t realize how slowly I needed to work back into exercise, so I screwed up my back. And I’ve discovered along the way bad habits I’ve always had that have made my back so weak and vulnerable to begin with. Or now my head isn’t making the world seem foggy, confusing, or dangerous. But all the days and weeks and months of extreme anxiety added up and left me feeling scared and on edge and a lot more emotionally vulnerable than I used to feel.

Yesterday all I wanted to do was go to the gym or go out for a run, but I felt self-conscious and weak and frustrated, and running isn’t the healthiest exercise for my back these days. I thought about how fit and active I was a year ago. I had worked hard to be as healthy as I was. It was great. I was always up for anything! It was a part of my identity. Why the hell did that day have to happen? It still sucks.

One silver lining is that all the anxious days made me pay more attention to myself deep down, though that doesn’t always feel like a good change. Another silver lining is that I think I feel more compassion and acceptance than I used to–for myself and for other people. I guess I get that no matter how much you wish you were exactly your dream self, sometimes life has other plans. Or sometimes life just throws a curveball at you, and not everyone is going to find the strength to head in the right direction every day. Some days just giving in to the weakness or the pessimism feels like … well it doesn’t feel good, but it just happens anyway. Like eating your feelings. I think I understand even better now, that people don’t just live screwed up lives because they want to, or because they have bad attitudes. People are fragile. Fragile AF. But we’re also strong, so I decided to go to the gym anyway, and I set a few healthiness goals for August 16–the one year mark since I bonked my head.

Silver lining or no, though–sometimes life has its crappy moments. Crappy days. Crappy happenings, that can leave you feeling weak and frustrated, uninspired, lonely, misunderstood, just … sad.

I think we all need each other to understand each other in times like that.

I spent a lot of yesterday thinking of how much my concussion last year changed my life. I felt embarrassed, because … come on. Right? But I know a concussion can mess with your life pretty long-term. Especially repeat concussions. I think mostly they’re not the end of the world. But I think a lot of people don’t give each other or themselves the benefit of the doubt–space to feel and heal.

And it’s not just concussions–and it’s not just a few of us. PTSD, losing a loved one, sexual abuse, auto-immune diseases, bullying, losing a job, miscarrying your baby, depression, addiction, loneliness, feeling betrayed, verbal and emotional abuse, chronic migraines, cancer…

I think it’s always worth telling each other how these things affect us. Being open and honest about the darkness we sometimes feel. And then, like Lyssi helped me with yesterday, helping each other reflect on the good things we still have, too.

I wanted to re-post something I wrote in January about some of the unexpected effects of dealing with a concussion, along with something Lyssi wrote about it, too.

I also want to encourage everyone I know to learn about all the different hard-things that your people go through. And to share your own. We’re all in this together. Nobody has to be a hero. Mostly we just need some love and understanding. So ask and listen, and speak up, too.

12 Things That Happen When You Get a Concussion

A Glimpse Into My World of Slow Concussion Recovery

What’s your story you want people to understand?

Be epic 2

A Glimpse Into My World of Slow Concussion Recovery

My best friend and teammate and life-person Lyssi wrote this yesterday. I asked her if I could share it on my own blog as a window into what concussion recovery can look like. Really it’s the same sort of stuff as a lot of people go through: Depression, anxiety, PTSD, etc.

For all of us, life can be a lot more confusing, challenging, and sad on the inside than people can see on the outside. I think it’s really good to remember that with each other. So here’s a somewhat vulnerable peek into my world lately.

Also, I have to give credit and say how thankful I am for Lyssi, who has been the strongest, kindest, and most supportive friend I could have ever asked for through this!

To anyone else out there living with stuff that doesn’t show up on the outside, remember you’re not alone! Don’t hesitate to share with me, if an ear will ever help! :)

concussion

Look at this kid! He just won first place as an evaluator in a Toastmaster’s competition this weekend. He also just aced his accounting final. Just gotta show him off a lil bit. (Don’t worry, I bought him cheese to celebrate).

While I’m bragging, I’m gonna brag some more.

As most of you know, back in August my adorably happy go lucky life-person jumped headfirst into a sideways tree trunk (turns out wearing a hat can drastically increase your blindspots when mobilizing upwards at significant velocity) and what we originally brushed off as “ouch”, and later “altitude sickness” (we were 4 miles into a 8 mile hike in the Rockies), turned out to be his second concussion in 18 months. That same day he started school. When he was officially diagnosed a week later with a concussion, he took a couple days off work, but stayed in school (even though thinking through things or putting thoughts together or even speaking/remembering what he said or what was said to him was difficult). Though he was told it was a “minor” concussion, the injury has greatly affected his day to day life and the things he is capable of physically, emotionally, and mentally. While both injuries have had obvious initial physical effects, this second one has added a side dish of cognitive effects that he didn’t experience the first time around. He’s had to give up a lot of the things he loves the most, some temporarily, some that remain challenging in surprising ways. He’s been in a lot of physical pain on and off, has experienced cycles of severe anxiety and occasional panic attacks, and had to completely give up all strenuous physical activity for much longer than expected.

Sensory things like noise, or lights, or music, or emotional movies, or high energy people (or people who aren’t high energy but are sharing excitement and joy or anger and stress) often feel overwhelming or threatening and can cause him to shut down physically and emotionally. (This can look like me sharing lots of details about my day or telling a happy story with enthusiasm and a minute later he can go from totally tracking with me to suddenly overstimulated, and in need of calming sensory input. Sometimes he has to lay down and have complete lack of stimulation, take a nap, put on headphones, turn off the lights, stop talking, do something that has a calming sensory affect like deep breathing, meditating, a hot shower, heavy blankets, etc).

A lot has healed and improved in the last couple of months – he has been able to go on a few runs or do some low impact workouts recently, he has worked with a therapist for anxiety, he is more cognitively “quick”, has a little more mental and emotional stamina, and is getting really good grades in his accelerated accounting course 😛 – but a lot of things are unexpectedly difficult. There are stretches of days where it will seem that everything is mostly back to normal, he can go running, he can be around noise, the anxiety subsides to manageable, and things feel “normal”. Then randomly days where trying an easy workout or thinking too hard or processing an emotional or stressful moment sends his brain back into a relapse of sorts (he’ll experience brain “fog”, extreme anxiety and heightened emotions, and intense headaches), sometimes for an hour or two, sometimes for days. This can be frustrating because of how unpredictable it is. Lots of starts and stops and excitement and discouragement and trying and waiting again. He’ll have good weeks with bad days, or good days with bad weeks.

He’s had to relearn how to take care of himself. He’s had to relearn how he learns and thinks and processes and works and relates and finds balance and happiness and peace. So many things changed for him. We’ve had to relearn how to take care of eachother. The concussion-induced anxiety is something that’s hard to talk about sometimes, because some don’t believe it or think it’s being blown out of proportion, because some misunderstand what it is or try to help in ways that actually hurt, because it’s deeply personal and constant and affects everything in life. It’s exhausting for him. Emotionally, but the anxiety also takes a physical toll. We have friends and family who openly or secretly also struggle through anxiety (and depression, PTSD, etc – so many of the things that are still misunderstood and mishandled), and they are some of the most understanding, strong, and kind people we have in our lives. We’re so thankful for them (and to the ones we know but don’t know about, you deserve a shout out too!).

As the person who is there to see all of it every day, it makes me love him SO MUCH and it makes me hurt for him SO MUCH and it makes me SO PROUD of the way he keeps working through therapy, through school, through work, through friendships and relationships, through physical recovery, through all of life. How weird and unsettling and hard it’s been for him to build himself back up into this new person who is relearning strength and vulnerability and safety and peace and love and everything he knew about himself, after a “minor” concussion that from outward appearances hasn’t changed much of anything at all.

Peter has talked openly about some of the struggles he has faced in the last few months, and he’s always honest but completely positive about it. I just want to give him an extra shout out because it is HARD and he’s a CHAMP. And if your person ever suffers long term side effects from a head injury, big or small, obvious or subtle, you have our support and love.