Drain Bramage

I have affectionately, or not so affectionately some days, called my traumatic brain injury Drain Bramage for nearly two decades now. She and I have tussled, fought and now walk peacefully, most days, hand in hand.

The name is a little back-asswards, sometimes funny and entirely apropos… words are hard, man. My brain and I still have days when we aren’t on speaking terms, and I can’t find the words at all… T-Bone loves those days! 😉🫶

Some days, I can tackle complicated research for hours, write stories, and solve problems that require deep concentration… almost… sigh… like before.

Other days, I can barely keep pace with a TV program featuring the same age-old plot line that’s been recycled through so many shows, we all know how they end.

Then there are the days when I’m moving along at a decent enough pace, and my brain decides to reboot for no good reason at all… Like, what the hell?!

Welcome to Life with Drain Bramage!

I Still Remember What I Never Forgot

I had a pretty exceptional brain before it was scrambled. It was tested by the military at somewhere in the mid-90th percentile range as being one of those photographic jobbers. 🎥 If I read it, watched it, or experienced it my brain took either what I can best describe as still photographs of the information OR it stored the data as a movie reel.

Yeah.🥴😮‍💨 Wrap your mind around THAT fun fact… I have 38 FULL years of movie reels stored up in this head BEFORE the TBI.

School was easy for me. I am not saying that out of a braggadocio's heart, it is just a matter of fact. My mind captured the textbooks like photographs, so that I could retrieve the information at test time as though I had the books right in front of me. 🤷 Every test was an open-book exam for me.

After the TBI, I knew right away everything was different. I had holes in my recent memory. My past was still complete. I also knew I was having serious cognition issues, and that was something I hadn’t experienced previously.

I struggled to organize my thoughts and keep up at work, and that is an area I had excelled in before.

It has taken nearly twenty long years for me to understand my Drain Bramage and that my memory is not actually lost after all… it is just stilted, slowed wayyy down, if you will. And, if given the proper care and opportunities ol’ Drain Bramage performs pretty impressively sometimes.

That may sound like a small thing, but when you’ve spent years second-guessing your own mind and reality because of the people and circumstances around you, it is anything but.

See, here’s the thing about traumatic brain injury and emerging out of domestic violence a survivor… You don't just have to relearn how to do things. Sometimes you have to relearn how to trust yourself.

Hansel and Gretel or the Witch today?

The Art of Leaving Breadcrumbs for Tomorrow…

I did not understand in the beginning the magnitude of the impact my TBI would have on the rest of my life. When I finally got the right kind of MRI, almost two years after my injury, and the neurologist told me the true depth of my injury… I don’t think I really comprehended it.

The lack of comprehension stemmed from both the head trauma AND disbelief that THIS was my life. THIS was my permanent condition and at the time I believed I was not going to get better. I struggled, REALLY struggled… especially when I was told to “just get over it”.

I was trying to craft a whole new identity for myself, while trying NOT to lose myself. It was a scary time for me.

I made a real attempt to keep working. I could not maintain the level of performance in the line of work I had been in. It was extremely demanding and I was under high stress there to perform at levels I just could not maintain any longer. I tried working at less demanding places/positions and I could maintain it for short periods and then my brain would just crash.

It was very physically taxing as well.

It took me years, but after I was in a safe place... I mean that literally, once my mind, body, and soul registered that I was truly SAFE with T-Bone in every aspect, I began to subconsciously develop systems to help ol’ DB keep it on the level a little better.

I know, the old me would be CRINGING right now…Ew! Systems… but, I did this sort of naturally in a way.

I first bought a cheap notebook to write my ideas and thoughts down in, lists of stuff I kept forgetting to buy 🥴🙄, I even wrote about Thistlewyn in a raggedy old notebook… but once I KNEW I was REALLY going to use one ALL of the time, I went to ALL of the places around and touched ALL of them (I became VERY tactile after the TBI, another gift) until I found one that is pleasing to hold.

Next, I learned what TYPE of calendar/date book works for ME… what it needs to have inside, what SIZE I need for it to be actually used regularly, what fun stuff I need to engage me, what annoys me… I really do have REQUIREMENTS.

Next, are my apps. Which ones work, which don’t, and what purpose does each one serve? I was VERY techy before the injury, I like being techy now, but some of this tech is just crap for an injured brain!

Sticky Notes!!! Yes!!

Reading voraciously!! Yes! Both on digital formats and real books!

Games!! Yes!! Different types of games online that require you to think beyond what you see… The games where there are 100 Doors, anything that requires escape, anything that requires logic and search. I like the merge games that have multiple scenes/screens that require me to come back and remember what I did the day before to get my bonuses as well.

I have always found these games and books online to be helpful with short-term or what I always thought of as mid-term memory. They seem to have aided over the years with my attention and problem-solving skills.

I can generally go longer in between Drain Bramage crash outs, but I still diligently leave myself the all-important breadcrumbs lying around just in case I get a little lost and need a little help finding my way back.

Synaptic Shenanigans!

Giving This Ol’ Blob A Comeback

I could not accept that I was just stuck like that, with no hope of improvement.

Somewhere along the way, I began to learn about the brain’s ability to relearn things after injury. I am talking about miraculous examples of the brain relearning things after serious injury; patients learning to walk again, talk again, feed and care for themselves again.

I thought if THEIR brains can relearn THAT after their significant injuries… well, MY brain can relearn to organize my thoughts better so I wasn’t spending my days confused.

It can relearn to comprehend stories I read the way I used to, maybe not at 1000 words per minute, but really who NEEDS to read that fast?

I learned that I need to have more of a schedule in my daily activities now, in order to help my brain remember on a regular basis. Consistency is my friend; stepping out of my rhythm is courting chaos.

Rest is not always easy BECAUSE of Drain Bramage, but it is essential BECAUSE of Drain Bramage… a double-edged sword. It took us YEARS, but we finally got me to the point where I sleep more than 3-4 hours at night and it is more than a few hours at one time.

I work hard to keep all these things in alignment so my brain has the best chance of finding a little homeostasis and chilling the hell out.

When it is in its happy place, it is receptive to games and reading and other cognitive tools I’ve adopted instinctively to help myself, along with ones that I have researched and implemented to support further cognitive growth.

The Brain Has Left The Building…

When Ol’ Drain Bramage Calls In Sick…

There are mornings I wake up and my thoughts are properly aligned, none of them are jammed up like a nasty traffic jam on the freeway. All of them are going in the correct direction, memories are all in the right places, I am not confused about where I am😮‍💨🤷… I remember the project I worked on the day before or didn’t, I remember what I wanted to do for the day. Some days just start well.

Then there are the other kinds of days… I wake up and I am just… off. This happens to varying degrees, and I am pretty good at masking it. 😮‍💨🫶 I hid a lot of this from T-Bone for a long time, even, out of fear of judgment, and HE is my PERSON.

These are the days that scare me.

I have trouble when I leave the house knowing where I am because of the terrain… it all looks so similar, my mind can’t always make the distinction from one location to the next. It is difficult to explain and even more difficult to work through when you are trying to deal with the confusion. I try to stay close to T-Bone on these days.

Then there is constantly putting things down and losing them… my glasses, my tumbler, my lighter when I smoked… the list is truly endless! UGH! 🥴 There are things I put in a safe spot that I may NEVER see again! I try to tell T-Bone where I put stuff on these days OR make lists, and then try not to lose the list. I know y’all are saying ‘Me too!’, but this is on another level…ask T-Bone! I feel so bad for him! 🫶🥴

Sometimes I have some warning that she is going to vacate the premises. If I get too hot, too stressed, go without sleep, overextend myself physically… no big deal… I just need to be a passenger princess through life. 🙄

But, seriously, I do have to be more cautious and trying to pretend that I don’t is just silly at this juncture. I have been a migrainer since about the age of eight or nine, I was later diagnosed with Cluster-Migraine Syndrome in my early 30s. Then, after having had multiple concussions and head injuries, beginning with five maxillofacial fractures at the age of twelve, culminating in the traumatic brain injury at the age of 38, my brain just decided I had played FAFO too many times. I had now entered the “Find Out” phase…

I have been in the FO phase for eighteen years now, and some years have been a whole lot easier than others.

Navigating Life with My New Companion

Before Drain Bramage became my new companion, before cell phones and GPS navigation, I drove all over the place… even across state lines, at night, with my kids, alone! That’s right! I drove all the way from Colorado Springs to rural southeastern Oklahoma in 1991, overnight with my sons when they were both under three, without a MAP.

I used to drive all over Oklahoma, Arkansas, Texas and other places LONG before there was a blue line telling me where to go.

I even managed to make trips from SE Oklahoma to South Texas and western Oklahoma after the TBI to support my son after he joined the Army and tried to spend as much time with his daughters as possible.

I started to struggle more and more with coming out of buildings and not being able to place exactly where I was geographically. I wouldn’t be able to say for certain if I was in SE Oklahoma, East Texas, South Texas or where… I was truly LOST. Most of the time, I could grab my phone and use my GPS to kind of ground myself and even though my eyes might not be able to convince me I was where that blue dot said I was, I could trust that app… until that app failed me. On a couple of occasions, I needed my GPS and for whatever reason, I could not access it and I was left truly feeling LOST at sea and unsafe.

I had not really revealed this aspect of Drain Bramage to T-Bone, but during one particular incident I had to pull onto the side of the road during a storm and call him. The roads were flooded and I couldn’t take the normal route, the GPS was out and I was truly lost and had no idea where I was or where to go… that is when Drain Bramage chose to glitch as well, and I didn’t even know what state I was in. It was so scary and he could not begin to locate me either.

Thankfully, I did finally make it home safely with his help. We had a long talk and I came clean about the extent of confusion and we altered the way we navigate from that day forward.

I still wish I could take off on a road trip on a whim, but I would rather not go through the horror of coming out of a gas station and being clueless about where I am and where I was going. Waiting until T-Bone can accompany me is much more pleasant and he is a real trip to travel with.

Not A Thing Is As It Once Was

There isn’t a thing about me that is the same as it was the day before the TBI happened… I was a totally different human. I had different dreams, aspirations, hopes and even beliefs back then.

I have read many accounts from people living with traumatic brain injuries, not just from domestic violence either, stories from people who have survived TBI from automobile and motorcycle accidents, military service, fall survivors, other impacts not related to domestic violence, sports injuries… one common thread seems to run true for many of their experiences, the post-injury changes to the PERSON are significant.

One of the hardest things I've encountered isn't necessarily learning to live with the person I've become. It's realizing that some of the people who knew me before the injury are still waiting for the person I used to be to come back.

I understand that they remember her. They have their own experiences and memories of who she was.

But I don't have the same relationship with that woman anymore. To be quite frank, she died that night on that floor before I ever regained consciousness…

I've spent nearly eighteen years learning how to live with this brain, adapting to its limitations, discovering new abilities, and finding ways to make a life that works for me.

I'm not waiting for the old me to return. She has no place here anymore. She made decisions I would never make today, overlooked things I wish she'd questioned, and stayed in circumstances that nearly cost me my life.

I'm trying to live as the person I am today. One that is not perfect by any means, but this version of me makes better choices, and I learn from my mistakes.

Understanding Is a Two-Way Street

I have spent nearly eighteen years learning how to live with a brain that doesn't function the way it once did. I've worked to improve my cognitive abilities, manage my limitations, and recognize when my reactions or behaviors need attention.

And believe me, I've made mistakes along the way. Some real doozies! 🥴

I own those mistakes, and I continue working on myself.

But here's something I've finally come to understand.

I am not solely responsible for making everyone else comfortable with MY disability.

I cannot spend every waking moment managing my brain injury, working to improve my functioning, accommodating everyone else's expectations, AND making sure nobody is inconvenienced by the fact that I have a permanent neurological impairment.

At some point, the people who want to be part of my life have a responsibility to learn about that impairment, too.

To understand that my memory may need more time. That my cognitive endurance fluctuates. That interruptions, unexpected changes, pain, and exhaustion can make ordinary situations considerably more difficult.

And that sometimes, when I say I cannot do something, I genuinely CANNOT do it. When I ask for assistance, I REALLY need help.

I'm not asking anyone to tolerate mistreatment. I'm not asking for a free pass when I get something wrong.

I'm asking for the same consideration, patience, and willingness to adapt that I've spent years learning to extend to myself and others.

I have a responsibility to manage my disability to the best of my ability, and I take that responsibility seriously.

But understanding and accommodation must be mutual. I cannot always change how my injured brain functions, and I shouldn't be expected to continually compensate for others who make little effort to understand those limitations.

I ask only that the people in my life recognize that their words, actions, and expectations can have consequences for me, just as mine can for them.🫶

Understanding, consideration, and accountability are responsibilities we all share. 🫶

And THAT, my friends, is no longer open for negotiation.