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…

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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.

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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.


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