stream of consciousness

I have pushed away the one MAN who truly cares for me; it was not a premeditated decision nor was it a series of acts that I can control on my own. I do not need drugs. I need understanding. 

My behavior is not the sort that is easily controlled; especially when other people deal with me in ways that act as a catalyst for my negative actions/words. I honestly feel as if I am nothing but a burden to the ones who love me. People love me when I’m not being bullied by the negative affects of my brain damage that make me act/react in ways that I originally would not have.

I cannot lose the love of HUD. I feel lost and pitiful. When I am offended/angry, I WANT to react a particular way; my brain refuses to allow it, though. Instead of my actions/reactions being “right” or good; my severely damaged front and temporal lobes take over; forcing me to act/react violently–either by physical abuse, or verbal abuse. Many times, it is both forms of abuse. 

I’m not at all proud of this. I made the mistake of entrusting my mother with the information that I used to react negatively/physically violent with a boyfriend (Pooky) when I was a teenager. HUD sent her pictures via text message of his face, and the abuse I (unintentionaly) caused to his BEAUTIFUL face. She now seems to think that I have a problem that the damage to my brain simply exacerbated, and did not cause. 

The TBI made me feel as if I have no control over what I do/say when I am “pushed into a corner.” HUD and his obsession with comic books, made me realize that when I feel as if I am “backed into a corner;” I relate to Bruce Banner, and his transformation into ‘The Incredible Hulk.’ HULK…SMASH!

The reason I was physically violent with Pooky, my first TRUE love; is really because I felt like he was cheating on me…with Mary Jane. MJ came FIRST in his life, and I was jealous. 

I acted negatively toward him…I never physically hurt him. I cursed him; A LOT.  I was barely 100 pounds…and right at 5 feet tall, so Pooky found it easy to restrain me. I think of that time in my life as “teenage angst,” even if he and I were in our early 20s.

I only need HUD want to learn about my injury, instead of pretending that it has never happened. If he chooses to remain in a relationship with me; I need him to know a little more about what life is like daily inside my head. He wanted to marry me. We were talking about it 2 days prior to our argument, and my physically assaulting him.

Dating (AIMING TO MARRY) a brain injured person is something for which you must prepare yourself. The guy who gave me a ring and requested that I take his name did not truly “get” how devastating and ever-lasting the deficits are.

I’ve dated quite a few men (BOYS, mainly) since my TBI occurred; not many chose to stick around. I’m unpredictable when someone doesn’t want to take the time to learn the best ways in which to deal with me.  

I’ve finally found “the one.” This brain damage is really f’n it up for me. I hope HUD will attend my neuropsychologist appointment WITH me, in 2 days. I’m scared…I don’t think he wants to be with me now that my neurological junk finally surfaced, and he’s unsure of whether or not he wants me to remain in his life.

I need him to research or at least read the things in which I Email him. I’m not comparing my former fiancé due to a yearning to have the NYer back in my life; I compare, because the things are almost exactly alike with how long it took me to “turn green,” like ‘The Hulk.’ I’m not crazy…I love HUD more than I believed I could love again. HUD is “my lobster.” 

I think he has been persuaded by people who have no idea about what I deal with in my head…to “get out.” Again, last Tuesday, he was all for me coming home, and us working on our relationship.


“It’s really over–you’ve made your stand. You left me crying; as was your plan.”

Published by BrandysBrain

"Writing, to me; is simply thinking through my fingers." — Isaac Asimovz [This blog is mainly one that concerns my life with my furbabies; Princess Coco and Mr. Whiskey, 'Chiweenies.' You've been warned.] My blog is mostly one of "journal-esque" (diary) entries with few real names being used to protect the innocent or to keep those who are not so innocent from being tracked down.

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