Here I Am and Here is my Damaged Brain

Here I am.  I am here.  
This is Briella.  Briella is my post-traumatic-brain-injury-Brain.  Still brilliant but a bit sideways.

I do not have the luxury of pretending that I am here alone without my damaged brain.  I live with my damaged brain every day.  You don't.  I hope you never have to.  Don't hide behind your cutesy slogans or stupid fake rubber band bracelet.  Forget your damn suit that you wear to our conferences.  Burn your business cards.  And those stupid slogans.  Those slogans were never any good anyway.  Forget your sparkly p.r. campaigns and your expensive dinners to raise money that I cannot afford to go to.  I am not a grateful survivor.  I am not a t.b.i.  I am a pissed off brain damaged human being.  Stuff your platitudes.  There is no room in my life for your pretenses. 

For you to pretend that you "don't see" my brain damage, t.b.i., brain, atypical neurology, limitations, signs, symptoms, disability, disabilities, differently abilitied abilities, and so on ad nauseam renders you an ineffective agent for change, professional helper, advocate, brain injury association board member, volunteer, acquaintance.  Here is my injured brain.  Here is my damaged brain.  I already told you she has a name.  Her name is Briella.  Go ahead.  Touch her if you dare to.  She is electric.  She is firm and blobby and disgusting.  Like rotting banana in a skin.   Smell her.  Smell the axons burning.  Smell the rage she carries.  Smell her stink.  And now, don't forget.  Don't forget.

Bear witness.  Silent witness if you must.  Do not turn away from my damaged brain.  I have no room in my life for bullshit.

sapphoq and Briella healing t.b.i.