Excuses, excuses.

Sure, I deserve to be able to “make excuses” for not wishing to follow through with my plans–I don’t plan on being “too tired” to do something. I have issues…people fail to understand that about me, many times. It is probably because I “look fine” on the outside. Plus, I always made it a point to let others know that I may be a bit different in the way I speak, move, and recall things; but, I am still ME. I did not want to be given special privileges because I am brain damaged. Eventually, people began to not give me “special treatment,” and then I decided no one cared about my being a TBI victim. I’m such a fan of irony…

Also, it is my fault. Every since my sustained the TBI in 2003 (or was it 2004? Must have been ’04 because it has been 12 years post. Sheesh…) ; I have tried to discredit any “special” circumstances that people (justly) assumed I would need. I was determined to be seen as ‘normal.’  Now that I have accepted the fact that I am unable to do the things I was once so proud of; most everyone sees me as ‘normal’…aside from my speech impediment.  I get so frustrated…then I remember I conditioned folks to see me as “normal.”

My brain needs adequate amounts of rest…that is something that it has taken me 12 years to accept. I always tried to be the exception to how recovering TBI patients are in the years post-injury.

My mom/Joe (my stepdad…I call him “Joe;” even if that is not his name) were expecting many of the things we dealt with/I endure(d) to occur. I am stubborn; therefore, I was determined to “live normally; as if I did not have a (severe) Traumatic Brain Injury.” I always said I do not want “brain damaged” to be the thing someone describes me as. It is silly to me that I said that, because now; I want people to understand that I AM BRAIN DAMAGED. Everything takes work/courage for me to accomplish.

For example, I may be able to do something in a day; such as clean ONE/TWO rooms really well. But, then I am shot…my brain becomes fatigued easily; that makes my body too tired to accomplish anything. I have begun to not need to nap every day…but I do need to get my rear into bed at a decent hour (I usually take the pups into the bedroom with me, around 9/9:30…I will read or veg out on the Intenet/write in this blog, before lying down to sleep.

Some days, I am up at 7 or 8 AM…others, I finally get out of bed around 9:30/10 (sometimes 11).  HUD insists on getting ready for work in our bedroom, and his scrambling around keeps me awake after I get up because his alarm woke me; I’ll go to the puppy bed, in the kitchen, wake up the babies; then, they go outside to “potty.”

They get a treat when they come inside the house…and they run incredibly fast into our bedroom, and use the stairs I bought for them to be able to get up on our bed; they then want to snuggle with me and sleep more. HUD leaves for work, and I normally sleep a bit longer…then, when I get out of bed; my day starts.

Sure, I am a house”wife” (something I never wanted to be…prior to my TBI). Before I moved in with HUD; I told him that since he drives an hour to work and works an 8-10 hour day; it is only prudent for me to make dinner every night, and to wash/dry clothes and iron them, too. I tell him that he works out of the house, and this home is where I consider my workplace to be.  I do laundry/clean/vaccum…take Whiskey and Coco out for potty breaks. By the time I get a minute to myself; I’ll shower…then when I get out of the shower, my “long day” begins.

I try to have supper cooking before HUD arrives home. He grew up with parents that were not young; so, HUD thinks dinner should be ready and on the table at exactly 6:30. Eh, I don’t really try to adhere to that. I mean, HUD and I need to have our own “schedule,” and I do not like eating dinner early.

Currently, I am sitting at home because we had to have our septic tank pumped and new field lines installed. After these men leave, I am going to head over to my buddies new home to help him clean it so he can get moved in this weekend.  I have already told HUD that he can heat up leftovers to eat for dinner; thankfully, he understands my need for rest, and told me not to worry about dinner.

I chose to write in this blog, as I was waiting for the septic service to be completed…now, I am off to help my friend clean up his new place of residence.