Speak
up. A trivial slip and fall on my
backside two weeks ago. A sudden
collision with a small deer as we were driving home from the beach a few days
later. Minor bumps that the old me would
have brushed off without thinking twice.
But with this delicate brain, my concussion symptoms reawakened. This old familiar fuzzy dimension. Dizzy.
Disconnected. Undone. This body and mind that don’t feel like
mine. Are these sensations
post-concussion syndrome or depression?
I’m not sure. The nuances between
the two are just too damn close. I do
recognize this dark gloomy place though.
I’ve lived here before. I don’t
really feel like staying. But I don’t
get to decide when I can leave.
Invisible injuries and illnesses are bitches like that. No one wants to talk about them. But that’s how they lose their power. Dismantling associated stigmas by speaking
up. I can’t just suck it up. I can’t fake it. I can’t keep telling myself those lies. All I can do is listen to my body. Follow my own rules. Be patient.
And I can also speak up. Its manifestations are physical. It’s not just in my head even if it really
is. If I seem indecisive these
days. If I cancel plans last
minute. If I seem withdrawn. If I isolate myself. It’s not you.
It’s me. I’m not
apologizing. I’m not looking for pity or
sympathy. I’m simply speaking up. If you’re going through something similar,
please know that you’re not alone. If
you want to talk about it, I’m here.
Speak up.
