“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”
― Albert Camus
As you saw in Wednesday’s post (which if you haven’t read is here) things got very bleak at points after my TBI. I’ve documented many times through my writing and videos the loss that occurred that day. I think it is important not to hide and dismiss this aspect of injury, loss, ourselves but I also want to show that if like me you are or have been in those depths following a brain injury, there is hope.
Hope is a funny thing, it was at times just about the only thing I had to cling onto. Where that reserve of hope comes from when all seems lost, I’ve no idea. But for me, the thought that maybe just maybe in 5 minutes, or 5 days or 5 weeks I’d start to have some lightness or joy was enough to keep me going. Sometimes all it took was someone to whisper ‘you’ll be ok’ and I clung onto that like a steroid addled limpet.
This is me, telling you, that you are safe and you will get there.
There was no one defining moment when everything just clicked, it’s been a gradual unveiling that still continues to this day but I notice in my private writing things stated looking more optimistic
I became more aware of my ‘wholeness’ the fact I could contain all of what was happening inside of me without trying to favour one over the other and fighting myself to push the ‘sad’ away. This is a regular occurrence I see within brain injury survivors in those initial years, the exhaustion we put on ourselves by fighting ourselves constantly. Even the language we use like ‘battle’ ‘war’ and ‘struggle’ do us no favours. I try not to use these terms now (they do slip out occasionally but that’s ok).
So once I’d started to learn to lean into myself, to just let things be, it became easier. It didn’t go away, of course not, but sadness and all those associated ‘negative’ emotions become part of ‘what is’if you just remove the label. This took time for me, it meant a lot of unraveling of learnt thoughts and behaviours around my emotions but I’m getting there.
I began to write less about how awful everything was and started to make lists of things I’d like to achieve, things I’d like to have in my life, an unheard of idea in the first 2 1/2 years post injury. Also, I know it’s a cliché but time, wonderful time has been an ally. Now I’m not talking a few weeks here, you need more patience than you ever thought existed in the entire world, but time has carried me further away from that place towards one that looks more comfortable. I found looking through my notebooks I was writing less now, the need to find solace on the page was lessening and I found a phrase that just was a complete lightbulb moment for me
POST TRAUMATIC GROWTH. I had never even considered such a simple concept, I was stuck in the trauma and as far as I was concerned that was it.
I can only speak for myself and how things unfolded for me but there is growth after trauma, it takes time and effort but it’s possible. You fall over many times but that’s part of it. I fell and still do but I get up again and keep going, I don’t want to sound like one of those ‘pull your socks up’ types, I’d never say that to anyone. I know how it feels to give up, I know how it feels to be exhausted and empty, so give that part of you a little space to do its thing then try again. It’s not a race, if you aren’t feeling it for a week then have a week off. I had months (yes months) of complete inaction, berating myself for being useless. If I’d have known then to just be ok with that I’d have been less distressed and tired. We humans are funny creatures we are perfectionists, we like things done as quickly as possible, the concept of drifting and letting things unfold fills us with terror. Good! Let if fill you with terror then once it’s gone, slow down, breathe and grow from your trauma.