Why I Am Here

I’ve been on a research kick lately, and my brain is constantly full of a lot of different thoughts. I figured writing out some of these thoughts would be helpful. Despite being set to public, I am not expecting anyone else to read here. My content is not interesting or engaging to anyone but me. Plus, while I used to be a good writer, I can no longer write as well as I used to.

I was in a car accident four years ago and suffered a traumatic brain injury, which damaged the left region of my brain—mostly the frontal lobe. Despite having worn my seat belt, my head still managed to crack the windshield. I think there were two impacts, so that may have something to do with it. I walked away from that accident believing I had gotten lucky with a broken thumb. It wasn’t until later that night I realized something wasn’t right.

Here is part of the intake form I filled out prior to a neuropsychological evaluation several months after the accident:

Wow, I have not read that in years. Things have definitely improved—a lot. I did several months of speech and physical therapies following the accident, which helped tremendously; however, I’m not the same person I was prior to the car accident.

I still have memory issues, no stamina, and a fear of leaving the house (PTSD). I cannot initiate tasks at all. Stimulants help some people with this issue; they don’t help me (they do wonders for my anxiety, however). My intellect and sense of humor have been dulled. I have trouble organizing my thoughts and have problems articulating myself—which leads me back to why I am here.

The brain is a “use it or lose it” organ. I try to use mine as much as possible. I’m constantly reading or researching something. I love genealogy especially because there are always mysteries to unravel, and that often requires brainstorming and creativity. I also love compiling and organizing data, which is rather embarrassing to admit.

What I do not do enough of is writing. After writing two blog posts yesterday, it occurred to me that I was doing something good for my brain. Perhaps if I continue to write, I will improve my ability to organize my thoughts and articulate myself in a way that— (I’m having a problem articulating this. It’s extremely frustrating. I have spent 15 to 20 minutes trying to convey my thoughts, and it’s just not happening. Moving on…).

I’m hoping I will continue writing blog posts. My brain may never be its old self, but it is absolutely capable of improvement. I will happily take what I can get. I think I’m finally at a point where I’m ready to accept my reality: I am not who I used to be. But I can work with that.

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