Gratitude, Suicidal Ideation, Voices from patients with TBI, Working through Trauma

My angels scrambled that day.

Two years ago, at this moment,
I sought the ultimate escape when I was in a state of triggered utter despair. I am grateful to [my] “heart-husband” and “heart-daughter” for calling the police, jimmying the door, and getting me to the help I needed so desperately. I had warned no one. I had given up on everything. The profound impact of my brain injury on the capabilities and possibilities for my future combined with the unshakeable despair left over from falling into a black hole overwhelmed a severely fatigued brain. I saw no tenable road forward. I had had enough. I said goodbye simply. I posted ‘so long and thanks for all the fish’. Left a note and a will. Took what my research said should have been a fatal dose. Locked myself in the bedroom and hoped they’d be too late. My angels scrambled that day.

Nothing in life can prepare one for the level of despair I felt when I flashed back into infancy. The first six weeks of my life, I was left in a neglectful, unprepared foster home in a state of raw emotional disregulation after being removed from my bmom without ever being held. The pain of Not being held or touched was excruciating for a strong Empath entering the world unwanted and hidden from all.

Set aside to cure like a hunk of meat until I could be legally placed with a barren couple in a poorly executed attempt at filling their void. Hidden in shame. A (whispered) Bastard. The Catholic Church was brutal to unwed mothers in that time period and the bastards were treated like unwanted puppies. But like the modern day pit bull, society believed we were born bad. The nuns scorned us and our mothers. When the nun handed me to my Adoptive Mother, she commented that my bmom “liked boys too much”. Judge judge judge. Assumed willingness is a fatal flaw in that judgy sh*t. That one comment ruined my life. My mother overcompensated to the point of harm. At 53, I’m finally shaking it all off but it’s too late for some paths.

Anyway, I am so grateful for the help I received both that night and the days that followed. It’s been two years of actively working with a Trauma Specialist Psychologist to slowly unravel the tangle of repeated trauma and PTSD and triggers. Blocked memories surfacing and popping like a noxious fart in the bathtub leaving behind the stench of old harm but Releasing the poison darts embedded by cruelty. Releasing my soul to dance in joy and love unfettered and free.

Metamorphosis in active mode.
Wings growing.
Blessed Be.
💋


The profound impact of my brain injury on the capabilities and possibilities for my future combined with the unshakeable despair left over from falling into a black hole overwhelmed a severely fatigued brain.

Thank you, Amber, for sharing your story. The feeling of being overwhelmed with a fatigued brain is a common thread that many within the TBI community experience. Similarly, the feelings of despair that may precipitate suicidal ideation are also very common in this perseverant, yet sometimes very fragile, patient population. I am happy to hear of your caring support system, your efforts to overcome your trauma, and of your wonderful attitude. May you continue to heal and for your wings to spread ❤

– Jing

 

{Photo taken by author in her own yard}

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