Some of you may know that just because you have a life-threatening event happen to you and wind up on disability, other aspects of your life don’t change. You still have debts, and bills, payments, things you want, things you need, etc. What you don’t have is money. Though it definitely costs me less to exist now without all of those things to do, I’m still making less than half of what I made when I was working, now that I’m on SSI.
This means that some things have to give a bit. I can’t do many of my hobbies anymore, though I have a few that I’m getting into again. I can’t have my own car anymore, which isn’t much of a big deal as, at the moment, I can’t drive yet anyway. However, I eventually will be able to drive, and we still won’t be getting me a car. No point, as I don’t trust my memory to stick with me enough to drive anywhere by myself anyway.
Another thing that has to give is paying off some things. I can get some of them forgiven due to the fact that I am not a fully functioning human anymore. One thing I can get forgiven is my student loans. That’s what I had to continue the process of this week.
On Monday, at what felt like the crack of dawn, I had a doctor’s appointment. It wasn’t with my Nurse Practitioner, who I normally see. This appointment was with the physician who oversees her patients. He was super nice, I mean, really. He’s a good guy. We talked about how my life is going now, and what I have difficulties with. He understood why I was there and was busily writing notes through most of the appointment.
As I surmised before even going to the appointment, there’s no problem qualifying me as totally and permanently disabled. Brain damage is permanent, after all, and your brain does all of the things you need to properly think and function. So, although my physical limitations are definitely less prominent, my mental disabilities are not just magically fixed. As such, I am hopeful that this will work. I reserve any other feeling more than that for such a time as may, or may not, come when it’s approved.
Truthfully, no mental disabilities are magically fixed, at least not the mental disabilities that occur in adulthood. Even issues in children’s brains aren’t always fixable. Some become less difficult to navigate over time, due to the incredible neuroplasticity of a child’s brain.
As we grow into adults, however, that neuroplasticity reduces over time. Our brains become more solidified into what they are. While there are ways to get some of the function back (and more things are being found out every year about how the human brain can bounce back from injury), if you get brain damage as an adult, that damage is there for good. You don’t regrow parts of your brain that have died. You can make new pathways, workarounds to get to the information and actions you may want, but the parts that are gone are always going to be gone.
I’m sure this sounds bleak, but it isn’t as bad as you might think, in a lot of cases.
I mean, in my case, I really can’t stress out to the extent I used to be able to. That doesn’t sound too bad, right? Being generally calmer is a nice thing I’ve gotten.
There are other things, however. I fail to remember some things, or if I do remember them, I remember them incorrectly. I haven’t figured out a rhyme or reason to that yet, either. It all feels quite random. Sometimes, I’ll remember something incredibly clearly, but most of the time, it’s really fuzzy. Sometimes, it’s nowhere. Not even an inkling that someone said something to me. Not the smallest idea that I’ve had a conversation with someone about a specific thing, or a specific event. I do vaguely recall being able to remember things I was told, or things I learned, or conversations I had before I had the stroke. It happened all the time. I would think “I don’t remember that at all,” then realize, “Oh yeah, we talked about such and such when we were doing this.” That doesn’t happen anymore. If it’s gone, it's gone.
Whatever the case, I really, really dislike talking about my shortcomings now. It’s a reminder of all I’ve lost. All the gains I’ve made can’t make up for that. I’ve lost my independence, I’ve lost my career, I’ve lost some of the things that I once thought were integral parts of me. I miss it all, of course, and being reminded of what I can’t do now is really depressing.
Kinda makes me glad I take meds for that kind of thing. I imagine I’d be a bit of a useless puddle at this point without them.
Either way, though, the upshot of this is that I’ve been largely depressed since Monday around 10 am. I haven’t gotten much done that I wanted to do. I was planning on doing quite a bit this week, and now I haven’t done much of anything.
To put it mildly, being depressed sucks.
There are memes going around about depression that some people, I’m sure, find amusing, or think may be helpful. I don’t think of them in either way. A lot of people with depression and anxiety don’t find them amusing or helpful.
Things like “Happiness is a choice! Choose to be happy!” Or “You are the only one who can choose happiness for yourself!”
I kind of want to throw my phone out a window when I come across them. They’re some of the most tone-deaf statements I’ve read.
I rather dislike the fact that there are people out there who think that is the only way to live. It’s not. There are millions of us out there who would love to be even content on a regular basis, let alone happy, but that doesn’t happen for everyone.
There are other more helpful platitudes out there that I am more likely to take to heart. “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about,” for instance. That’s real talk, right there. Everyone IS fighting their own battles. Some of us have huge battles, some of us small. Here’s the thing though, they’re all battles. The size of a battle is subjective.
Yeah, I said it. And I’ll say it again.
The size of a person’s battle is subjective.
To some, having what I had happen would be the end of them. It wasn’t for me.
However, I know people who have gone through things in their lives that would have ended me. Most of those people are still here with us. A few are not, but you know what? Their battles did them in, not a sense of purpose, not selfishness, and not weakness.
In battles, of course, there are casualties. Those who are left afterward need to be able to mourn those casualties in our own time, in our own ways.
Modern society puts a huge emphasis on warriors, in cases like mine, in cases like anyone who faces a huge obstacle in their life. People want to see those in difficult situations fighting back, making gains, becoming more than they were before.
Sometimes, that works.
Sometimes, that particular part of our culture can cause problems.
We all need to feel supported, we all need people who are there for us no matter what; the people who are living to see us succeed. When we don’t have that, we all have a tendency not to strive for more. Battles are not just something we fight, they’re things that we live, and, when all goes well, things that we live through. We can’t really do any of it on our own.
If you are reading this, and thinking to yourself “Well, I had to do it on my own. No one helped me,” I truly, from the bottom of my heart apologize for the neglect you have endured.
Sure, it’s not my job to apologize. I get that. However, someone has to, and I don’t mind carrying that weight, if it’s what you need to hear.
If this gets you through one more night, one more day, one more hour, minute, second, I will have done what I set out to do.
I hope you can face a new day feeling just a little lighter, just a little better about yourself, better about the world.
