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 If I seem withdrawn.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.