First there is a mountain

Well fellow travellers, we’re here. I made it.

It’s anniversary day and if we are to pay attention to conventional timelines it’s been 4 years since my accident and my brain injury. I say conventional timelines because after brain injury time becomes somewhat irrelevant, it’s all wibbly and wobbly and can stretch and contract at will.

Firstly I wish myself a


I couldn’t forget this date even if I wanted to, my body reminds me. In the lead up to today over the past few weeks I’ve experienced the anniversary effect, a strange remembering by the cells in my body of some distant thing that happened that was traumatic and life changing. Trauma is a somatic experience and It’s not something I consciously switch on, it just happens. The past few weeks I’ve been exhausted and crying and extremely sensitive but these things aren’t something to fight they are simply what is. 

I have found this past 6 months that acceptance is a lot more present than it used to be, there are still days (such as yesterday) where I want to scream and shout and pull it all out of my body, where I get angry and feel sorry for myself and grieve for what once was or could have been. This is especially present when doing something that I would have just got on with in the past that now gives me a pay off in days of sludgey, treacle-like, emotionally painful fatigue. An example being I started college at the beginning of September (studying Horticulture, so I can deepen my love of plants and nature), just 3 hours a week on a Thursday but by jingo for 3 days after I’m a mess. The difference being now, more often than not, I ALLOW myself to be a mess. Isn’t the messiness from where the beauty germinates and begins to grow?

As I sit here and write this and take a deep breath and try to think about what I want to say to encapsulate the past four years, there is so much contained within me that I don’t know where to begin. I suppose I just want myself and others to know that I’m still here. I still dance with the injury but after 4 years of lessons my rhythm is improving. I also want to give thanks, to my husband, my family and my brain injury community for being understanding, supportive and full of strength and love. I’m lucky. I know this. To have people around me who let me be, who let me expand and shrink and ebb and flow as I need to without looking at their watches or tapping their feet. For those of you who don’t have this support, I’m sorry and know that from the confines of the Internet I am holding the space for you should you need it.

I know there’s a part of me that’s lost forever, a reminder of that part, on occasion can break my heart into pieces, suddenly and swiftly, but I’ve also (mostly) said goodbye to her and let her disappear off into the sunset, her time here with me, for now, is done. I want to no longer talk of ‘battles’ and ‘fights’ regarding my trauma because if I’m fighting who am I fighting? Who am I hurting? Usually myself. There is no need to fight if I let my suffering go. A battle only becomes a battle if I make it so.

There’s still so much growing for me to do,  I need to build trust again, in my body and the world. All of this was stripped away by trauma. I’ve not got my energy expenditure balanced yet, there’s still a lot of famine and feast in my cycles of energy. There’s a huge part of me resisting this because just existing isn’t good enough for me, I want to LIVE. But as with everything throughout this ride, everything evolves and has a lifecycle of its own, I’m letting resistance run its course until it morphs into what comes next. In brain injury terms I’m STILL young, there’s plenty more healing and shifting to come, a fact that both frightens and excites me. There’s also a potential official PTSD diagnosis to come, though giving me a label only helps when dealing with infuriating red tape but not so much on a personal level. Doesn’t really matter to me what this ‘thing’ I have is called, its impact and subsequent learning is dealt with the same way regardless.

As always I’ve chosen a song for this post and I’ve chosen ‘There is a mountain’ by Donovan mostly because it’s a cheery little number but also because with brain injury “first there is a mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is” this song speaks to me about perception and how magic can be found if we look at things differently. 4 years ago my mountain appeared, but through love, compassion, determination, hibernating, sitting with myself and searching and changing my view, the mountain is something that undulates gorgeously, something that becomes a beautiful part of the landscape instead of an obstacle to tackle.

(if an advert pops up at the start of the video, I do apologise. YouTube meh)

5 thoughts on “First there is a mountain

  1. That is so well written Loz I think everyone can understand what you have been through and what you are going through, as for the Donovan song,its one of my favorite songs from the sixties.Talking of Donovan songs can you listen to Mellow Yellow and explain to me what that’s all about.Here’s hoping your next tune will be Mama Cass “Its getting better”.

  2. Pingback: First there is a mountain – Irishwomenblog

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