It’s hard to be yourself when it seems as though you always have to explain why you do the things you do.
For example:
You wear sunglasses on the elevator. You wear noise canceling headphones in the mall. You always sit quietly off to the side when you are in a crowd. You shade your eyes with your hands when you are sitting under harsh fluorescent lights. You don’t get jokes when the punch line comes around. You get distracted and start a new task instead of doing what you had said you were going to do. You don’t seem to be present. You can be extremely literal and are unable to properly interpret what people are saying to you. You are always complaining about headache. Or…a bunch of other stuff.
These things make us feel like we stick out, and we we assume people are wondering about us or making comments under their breath about us. As a result, we feel the need to constantly explain ourselves and our actions to others.
When you are a TBI survivor you feel as though you stick out like a sore thumb because of the “quirks” you exhibit. We have a need to explain ourselves, in what is a battle to fit in and be accepted. Feeling uncomfortable in our own skin, we want to communicate to people why we do the things we do, as well as make sure others know that, “I was not always like this.”
I want to testify
It’s infuriating, feeling as though you are not being taken seriously, or are being judged when others can’t know the full story. There is just so much they don’t know about, and we feel it is our obligation to let them know.
Minor “TBI episodes” seem major to us, and they always seem to call for justification. There are precious few situations where we feel as though we can just be ourselves without explaining and justifying ourselves and our actions to others.
The issues are in our brain, invisible to everyone, but very, very real to us. How do we get someone to understand when they can’t see us for what we are? Unfortunately, there is no way to communicate our reality except through words, and the vicious cycle begins where the words we use don’t seem to matter. Then we get excited, and the more emotional we get about it, the less effective we are.
Because of this, and because of the general state of affairs we find ourselves in, a feeling of vulnerability hovers over us and follows us like a cloud. It’s just something we can’t escape; a general feeling of doubt and of not living up to our own expectations, never mind anyone else’s. That doubt makes us feel a little less than human, and makes us feel as though we are not on equal footing with the other people we come across.
Not only can’t you be like everyone else, you can’t get others to understand why.
Stop trying to make sense
Trying to make sense doesn’t seem to do any good. We shoot ourselves in the foot when we try to be rational so others see what’s going on with us.
Maybe we should try to look at it this way: when we explain things we are giving excuses and not accepting who we are. Every time we explain ourselves, it’s because we feel as though we aren’t good enough. Although we might think we are giving a reason for something and explaining ourselves, the truth is we are giving in and using excuses to explain ourselves.
I’m not saying we don’t have very good reasons for why we are the way we are, but we don’t have to rely on them.
Let’s try to change our mindset and feel good about who we are. Let’s try accepting the way we are, even it is strange and we don’t fit in. By doing that, perhaps other people will accept the way we are also, regardless of the “quirks” we exhibit. Not explaining ourselves, but just being who we are, is a sign of strength because it is a s sign of self-acceptance.
This is difficult. It goes against everything we have always thought and assumed, and it flies in the face of what comes naturally, but it’s worth a try.
Remember, explaining your situation to someone doesn’t make you a winner, what makes you a winner is when you are powerful and you are yourself. Like Kermit says, “It’s not easy being green,” but he is, and he makes no excuses.
Live your life with no excuses.
Thanks, Jeff
Thanks Jeff, I can identify with so much of what you are saying. Our internal voice needs to be understanding of ourselves first. Then (and only then) IF there is an opportunity to educate a loved one or someone who genuinely wants to understand, we can try to do that. Most people have no clue. When they say ‘how are you doing?’, it actually means ‘hi’, not ‘I really want to know how you are doing’. Many of us (survivors) are in so much need to be heard and acknowledged, (as we are in an alian land looking for something familiar,) that we are desperate for someone to listen to our reality. Fellow survivors have been a remedy for me, and apparently for them…..a win/win situation. This gives me a little more energy to be gracious with non-survivors that are truly ignorant of our reality. I try to be grateful that they don’t understand, because as we know, the only way they would truly understand is to be a TBI Survivor themselves. We don’t want to wish that on anyone!
Thank you for this post. I’m going to share it with the TBI survivor in my life. What I struggle with is letting him know that I love him, with every one of those quirks, in a way that he believes me. I want him to know that he IS enough. He doesn’t need to explain because I accept him exactly as he is. I can never be in his head experiencing what’s going on, but I can be his supporter and an advocate for brain health & TBI survivors. My hope is that one day he will recognize that it’s unconditional.
Very beautifully said. The survivor in your life is a lucky man. Thank you for supporting him.
Thanks Jeff. That was well written, & right on the money. I do that every day, and now I’ve recently slowed down my explanations to people so I don’t do it as often. I’ve found only SOME things need an explanation. I’ve LEARNED that MOST people in my life make a lot more mistakes than me. MA NY of them are idiots! As the “TBI Survivor”, I can’t be the person to tell them that, so I dont. I’m “movin on”!
Thanks Paul.
This is a great post but the fact that the words are overlayed on the background makes it really awful to read especially after a brain injury. You might try just making the lettering bolder and formatted differently…
We are looking into it. Thanks for writing.
I am anxious about reading your post, I am concerned about thr reality of having a TBI. Yet appreciate your candid post. Also, I agree with the gentleman in regards to it’s hard to read the post with the background!:)
Robin,
Thanks for your comments and for your courage. By the way, we will be changing the background
Hi Jeff I look forward to reading your posts and I can’t believe how true and accurate they are to my own personal journey in my new life which I am learning to deal with or not as I am a relative new TBI survivor, having suffered a sever Difuse Axonal Injury from a mountain bike accident about 10 months ago now, but still suffering and struggling every day. Your posts help me muchly.
I could not have articulated it better than you have in this post. It is what I have been trying to express to many for so long! I’m just going to be green!
Hi Jeff. Second time posting to your blog I’ve recently had the opportunity to fly by myself. While I used to travel 3 out of 4 weeks for work – without even giving it a second thought – that is not the case now.
I’ve pretty much accepted who I am now, as compared to who I once was. Sunglasses on the airplane and noise cancelling head phones to – an attempt to make the environment survivable to folks like us. Trying to anticipate the banging of the overhead bins so the noise does not short circuit my central nervous system… Also keeping eyes / ears closed to focus on my inner peace, and not to be distracted (beaten down) by the outside world.
Having not to speak with those nearby saves my energy. My aphasia, stuttering, do not occur.
I’m good with who I am now, and would prefer not to have anyone else be concerned with what is “wrong” with me.
Almost 5 years post my accident, I’m more concerned with thriving (instead of surviving), and have made a conscious choice not to be concerned with what others think, say, or do.
One of the most important things I learned during my recovery is not to waste your time trying to be someone who you once were, and to focus on the best version of who you can now be.
Nice post Jeff.
Everything you have expressed I relate too! I tell people this is my second life, and am getting to know the new me too!