I have many friends who live far away as I relocated years ago. But they are amazing friends that although we rarely see each other, when we do it’s like we only saw each other yesterday. And they mean the world to me. But when I was first injured I didn’t let on to them how badly I was affected. I suppose I wanted them to think of me the way I was, not the broken confused mess I had become. Perhaps that was egotistical of me. Also I thought I was doing them a favour. They were so far away they couldn’t do much anyway. So I thought it would just be something they would worry about that they didn’t need. But actually I have realised that maybe I was being unfair.
I bottled it all up.
Whilst you are used to me being very honest with you about my experience, it wasn’t always like this. I’d gone from this confident, self assured woman, to a babbling, twitching mess. I used to enjoy how people would value my opinion on things and ask me for advice. But suddenly I had nothing to offer, so I just sent out the message that I had survived a car accident. That’s it. Whilst they were all thinking “That was a close shave” they didn’t know this was much worse than just whiplash.
But my friends were devastated I didn’t ask for help.
My friend H (I don’t know if she minds being named) when I first started this blog sat down and read 5 articles in one go. These were the ones that really lay out the initial struggle of my brain injury. H found herself crying that I had faced that without my closest friends. Previously I wrote in Relationships vanish magnifying the trauma of brain injury about what it’s like to find some people aren’t in your life anymore as they can’t deal with the change. And there are some people who fall into this category who I can guarantee don’t read this blog. But actually H and some others would have bent over backwards for me, if I had let them. I was busy thinking how I had nothing to give, but H just wanted to help, not take anything in return.
Don’t put words in other people mouths.
I had misjudged the situation altogether. Maybe that was because I undervalued myself. I knew H was an amazing person, as are the few friends I still have keep in touch with in the South West of England. But we had never faced a test like this, and as life moves on, I assumed this broken me wouldn’t fit anymore. But since I have opened up I have seen that I was wrong. Life is a journey that never stops shaping us. So just because we change, it doesn’t mean others won’t still like us. H says there are facial expressions that I don’t pull anymore, but that could just be that I’ve grown up rather than the brain injury.
H likes to try to spread happiness and make others smile even when she feels like crying herself. And this is what makes her special. So H, I’m sorry I didn’t let you in earlier. Just having another person to share this with would have been what I needed, but I thought I was being selfless by not.
I’m telling you this because I don’t want others to make the mistake I did. As I explained in Relationships vanish magnifying the trauma of brain injury , many of us do find some can’t cope. Don’t automatically think people don’t want to know the details or can’t help. It’s not even that anyone has to do anything in particular, it’s just knowing they are there for you. If there is someone you haven’t spoken to in a while who never had the full details of your experience, maybe trying reaching out to them. You might be surprised. You have nothing to lose, and perhaps a lot to gain.
7 replies on “Friends agony of my brain injury I didn’t let her help with”
I think some friends are around at all different times in your journey. Ve few friends who have been with me the whole time. And: I found your Like button!
Yes I agree, people come and people go. But I assumed that as I have friends who live far away, that they would be “out of sight, out of mind”. But I’m so lucky that I was wrong.
I have never had any close friends, just acquaintances I suppose and since we had moved halfway around the world 11 years ago most of those had become out of touch. There was one work related aquaintance, who was a supervisor at one of our customers sites who I used to visit regularly. I saw him in a store one day shortly after my hospital discharge, we started talking about my craneotomy, and I sensed he was welling up a little. That’s when he told me he had lost his wife due to a brain tumour some 5 or 6 years ago. That’s when I realized he knew about some of my challenges.
Now I have to tell you about my ROCK and best friend, my wonderful wife. She has stood by my side all the way through my ABI journey. When I was put in the Intensive Rehabilitation Unit at our local hospital, she was there when I had my first sessions of rehab. As things progressed she would visit at meal times and we would sit together while I had lunch and supper. Later as my physiotherapist was wanting me to walk more, Carol (my wife) would do laps with me around the corridors. I was lucky in that she has a flexible work schedule which she could manipulate to suit my needs.
I won’t pretend it’s all been running through fields of wild flowers holding hands, like its portrayed in films. There have been some tough times, especially since I lost my job, but we are settling back into our relationship as we start to become comfortable with the new me.
Thanks Michelle for letting me tell a little bit of my story
Oh David, your chance encounter with your former supervisor just goes to show more people than we ever realise are affected by these things.
Carol sounds like she has been amazing. Of course there have been ups and downs, but that’s just being human. Otherwise she sounds like Wonder Woman ?
Thanks Michelle, you’re right she is amazing, when she took her wedding vows some 30 or so years ago she hasn’t wavered from them. I’m a very lucky person to have her as my wife.
I’ve been reading your blog since the beginning. I had my fall in 2015 and your blog let me know that someone else had experiences so similar to mine, even though you’re across the world. This one especially resonates so closely as it took me years before I was ok to say “yes please, thank you, I needed the help”. I struggled because I could no longer be confident that I could help them back if they ever needed help. I’m sorry that my ego stopped me from understanding the TBI and it’s impacts so that I could simply let people know how bad the injury was and thus allowing me to accept help faster. Injured brains are funny that way. Now, I’ll gladly accept help. It’s been a humbling ride and the friends that have rallied around me, I really consider my family. ? thanks for this post.
Jeni, I have found it so humbling as well. And that is one thing that I am thankful for about having a brain injury. It’s shown me that ego holds us back and by shrugging it off I have become happier.