I’m incredibly open to speaking of my critical Traumatic Brain Injury in total now. This was definitely NOT the case previously. My comfortability with owning my disability has ever-so-slowly arisen. My hesitancy of sharing my newly disabled self, was substantiated by my knowledge that we, as a society, discount & therefore enact prolific judgment (the majority of the time, inaccurately) of anyone that doesn’t embody our societal “norms”. Embodying differences can result from being a minority of annykind. Abundant testaments, in our country alone, offer insight into how minorities have been & are mistreated.
I am an extreme minority now – again, only .8% of critical Traumatic Brain Injury survivors, alike I, survive, let alone have recovered ANYwhere near the extent to which I have. Specifically, I am living alone, completing all in life independently, sans a caregiver, nor familial assistance & am practicing my craft once again. I have been doing so for the past 8 years. Alike everything else within this wretchedly slow recovery, my writing has evolved: my posts have elongated, become routine and are now directly addressing my injury.
Within the last couple of years, converse to my previous reality, I’ve come to the realization that having this disability and being outspoken about it, serves me, in fact. People quickly divulge their capacity to accept diversity and correspondingly, in my opinion, this offers insight into the quality of their character. My present outspokenness is an example of my self-acceptance as well as newly learned differentiation tactic. My sharing and the resulting response, informs me wether or not I’d like to know the person I’m communicating with better. I fervently don’t wish to befriend anyone prejudice. I’ve always held this belief -> practice & now it’s grandly substantiated by personal experience.
I very recently encountered 1 absolutely naïve, outrageously over-confident & prejudice judgement. She enabled my identification nearly instantaneously. This woman, clearly (via her outspokenness, to a survivor none the less) thought herself knowledgeable of my disability, despite presenting the opposite:
I was on my way to a community yoga class at a studio I hadn’t yet been, when I spotted a woman walking slightly ahead with a yoga mat slung over her shoulder, adorning yoga clothes. Resultantly, I called out to her, to inquire if she was going to the community yoga class I was. She replied that yes she was. After sharing that I hadn’t yet been to the studio & as a result, was seeking direction, she gestured me to join her. As we walked up the stairs which led to the studio together, I preemptively spoke to the rationale for my self-perceived lag (needlessly, I realize in retrospect). I did so, by sharing of of the critical TBI I had incured.
At the top of the staircase that we’d ascended, affront the studio, she joyfully exclaimed, “You’re so lucky!” contextless (as if I’d won the lottery!). I looked at her sidelong in response, as we entered the line of yogis awaiting entry into our yoga class. Her retort was wholly uncommon (I’d never heard that utterly false response before & rightly so!!) as it was entirely uninformed & communicated no sympathy. In fact, her response to me sharing of the severity of my Traumatic Brain Injury, was anything but sympathetic. Recovery has been & is hard won, not to mention utter hell, as is to be expected, by anyone truly knowledgeable.
Her statement divulged to me the truth that she was & is unaware of the extensive work, loss, solitude and resultant deep depression inherent in recovery. Her response to my divulgence, tells me informedly, that she’s done nothing to educate herself further. She’s clearly to me, completely unaware of the tremendous work inherent in recovery. Because I feel it’s vital to instill awareness (as this is important!) I’ll repeat the truth that this extreme hardship instigates some survivors healing from TBIs of any grandeur, to commit suicide. That’s how horrific this rehabilitation is!
She’d solely learned briefly of the generalities of TBIs in a yoga teacher training course, while discussing catering to the disabled who practice yoga. Simply because she’d become aware of the fundamentals (the extremely slight ((20%)) of critical TBI survivors that live) she thought herself knowledgeable enough on the subject, to weigh in. Her utterance conveyed that she’s anything but versed. The reality that only 20% of those that incur critical TBI survivors live, results, for those of us who do, in relearning to live IN FULL. 0 of my memories were accessible for the first many years and for most, I’ve learned from my caseworker, memories remain inaccessible lifelong. She clearly didn’t consider, or even know, of the severe depression that results from this disability either and carelessly evoked it.
The woman who uttered this falsity, never apologized to me for stating her knowledge-less presumption as fact.
After our yoga class was done, I waited to inquire if she’d like to exchange information, thoughtlessly (as happens now-a-days, due to my awful short term memory ((information vanishes for a time – only to reappear in retrospect, mostly – so frustrating!!))) to which she declined in a blatantly condescendingly manner (I have no doubt that this was due to the divulgence of my injury, given that that’s all she knew of me). If you don’t wish to exchange information with me thats absolutely fine, a personal right! To present it with extreme condescension, however, is not. Hadn’t she learned this, when young? Thank goodness for her reply though, as I never wish to spend time, or converse with her (or anyone who holds this sensibility), again.
I’ve redundantly experienced the lack of external knowledge of my disability, exemplified by this interaction, in each place (4) that I’ve resided amidst recovery. It seems to be ever-present. The reality that the communicator of the aforementioned supremely inaccurate knowledge, thought herself informed, initially maddened me. Now, that a day has passed my anger has subsided, it’s replaced by feeling sorry for her & any critical TBI survivor (but since there’s so few of us living, let alone ever existing out of the house, this is unlikely – few!) that she communicates with.
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