Monday, May 20, 2013

Resignation Letter

I am not here to service your false ego.  

You are a lawyer with a position.  With several positions and a blog.  Every lawyer has a blog.  You relish your blog and your positions.  Your positions give you face recognition [at least among those (unlike me) who are not face-blind].  You are on a very important board.  You rub hands with the uber-elite.  You are the chair of another board which happens to be composed of mostly women.  They make a lot less money than you do.  You feel stuffed with your importance.

I am not here to service your false ego.

You are a counselor with an experience.  You worked with t.b.i.-ers in a home once for a few years before you went back to school and made it big.  You can drop names.  Your names and your singular experience don't interest me.  I am indifferent to them.

I am not here to service your false ego.

You are a pretend doctor.  You got your doctorate from one of those mail-order schools.  You write on a fifth grade level.  For thirty five pages of your "book" and a hundred bucks, you got a doctorate.  The insurance companies pay you as if you actually did the work.  Sadly, you are not the only one who did that.  There are others who have pretend doctorates too.  They may write better than you do but the principle is the same.

I am not here to service your false ego.

Whoever you are or whoever you think you are does not matter to me.  I am no one's whore.  Find someone else to do it.  I quit.

sapphoq healing t.b.i. 


Sunday, May 19, 2013

Oh Go Stuff Your Happy Happy Joy Joy

Today, as usual, I was tired.  I slept deeply last night.  I ran out of energy mid-afternoon and slept for two hours.  With dreams.  This is the fatigue that does not let up.

Different things throughout the day gave me wholenessA house wren singing a mating song.  The new kitten jumping up to the toilet paper roll, neatly tearing off one sheet, and tasting it.  The happy dog ready for another walk in the quiet neighborhood.  Smells of a stir-fry drifting into the bedroom from the kitchen.  Clean sheets and washing machine and a cat in a curled up in a basket and a full tank of gas and the stillness of my thoughts.

Different things assaulted my irritable brain today.  An acquaintance with a too-loud voice and a message that he felt compelled to "share" with the rest of us.  The infiltration of New Age batshit woo-woo into conversations held by those that I was surrounded by.  A feeling that I didn't belong.  I could not relate.  The fish stinks from the head back.

I want to run away.  I want to go to the triple A and point out places I'd like to see on the map and buy train tickets and hotel reservations.  I want to pack a light bag with a set of wash-and-wear quick drying clothing, a few toiletries, and a second pair of shoes.  I want to travel alone and break bread with people that I've never met.  I want to go to a park and dance to music with the crowds.  I want to eat at a small diner away from the masses.  I want to hang with the common people in strange places.  I want to journey to more places where I've never been and retrieve more pieces of my soul from those places.

I want to have hope.  I want to have hope that is real hope based on realistic probabilities.  I am tired of the false hopes pedaled by the professionals who think they know better than I do what I want.  I am tired of settling.  I've done far too much settling before my brain damage was inflicted upon me.  I am done with settling.  I am anger.  I am rage.  I do not yet know what my true options are.  I must go find them myself.  Because the cast of helping players bombed the stage.  The play did not hold my interest.  I am wandering out of the theater.

Today, as usual, I was tired.  Today, as usual, I sought a place of people where I belong and I could not find it.  Today, as usual, I became anger and rage within my own true self.  Today, as usual, I felt the sadness and the grief of dreams that do not let up. 

sapphoq healing t.b.i.     

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

The Eyes [May] Have It

I was heartened today to see one tiny article about the possibility that visual difficulties may aid in the accurate diagnosis of traumatic brain injuries in veterans who continue having troublesome symptoms after sustaining a blast.  Psychiatrist Elaine Peskind noted that the vets she tested had irregular movements of their eyeballs.  Neuro-Optomologist Randy Kardon demonstrated that the vets exposed to blasts had retinal cells that were thinner than expected and also had developed photo-sensitivity.  [ article located here at: ]

I've known about tbi-related eye problems because I have them.  I was diagnosed with true photophobia, ocular-motor dysfunction, and dyplopia in one eyeThe external vertigo that I experience on a daily basis [the room spins to the left] with occasional temporary upswings  is responsible for my latest back injuries which have landed me back in physical therapy.  Nystagmus, I have it now.  I did not have it pre-injury.  Misinterpretation of visual data in the brain has caused visual disturbances.  These are not frightening.  And dry eyes.  Because I no longer blink as much automatically as I used to.  Reading was not possible for me for longer than thirty minutes [and sometimes not possible after much less than thirty minutes] until the introduction of an e-reader.  It is not large print that I need.  My visual acuity is within the range of "doesn't need glasses while driving."  What I do need, and the e-reader provides for me, is more white space between words and the ability to adjust the light settings.

When hunting down the research into the use of various visual tests and measurements in the diagnosis of traumatic brain injury with our troops, the earliest reference I found was dated 2009.  This is the sort of thing that should have been reported on by the media much earlier than yesterday.  The research has implications for all of us who have sustained brain injuries from a variety of causes.

While I applaud the Veterans' Administration for the research being undertaken on behalf of soldiers who have suffered and who will continue to suffer blast injuries, it is my sincere hope that refinements to the diagnosis of a t.b.i. and delivery of services designed to address tbi-related visual difficulties does not become bogged down in the usual bureaucratic paperwork and a system which seeks to deny our vets services when at all possible.

sapphoq healing t.b.i.

Other references: