As I closed my front door behind me, I had one last glimpse at the to do list on my phone.
Haircut
Ice skating with Reese
Food Shopping
Petrol
This small list may seem innocuous to most brain-injury free people out there but this for me is a very hectic day, especially between shifts, at a job the statistics say I shouldn’t be doing.
Job 1
As I entered the barber shop..
It was packed. So an hour and a half later I left and drove me and dad to Bournemouth for the ice skating.
Reese stayed over my mums last night. I saw her for a few hours after work yesterday and had to go home shortly after. I was exhausted after my shift
Job 2
We arrived in B-town. My head felt so heavy already as I kept my gaze lowered to the floor as we walked down the long hill from the car park.
I’m working tomorrow. It’s Xmas day on Tuesday, and I’m working Wednesday and Thursday.
After 45 minutes of ice skating with Reese, I was left feeling drained.
My knees were wobbly from the fatigue and the dizziness had taken over.
I went to get my car so I could do the shopping before the shop closed at 4 (With Reese)
Job 3
In Tesco, it was pandemonium. People were angrily bumping into me with their trollies as I tried to navigate my way down the aisles.
My spatial awareness deficit means I often walk into people and objects
My head was becoming increasingly heavy and painful. At this point I was absolutely fucked.
When you’re in this state, all ideas of budgeting when your shopping become irrelevant. I picked up the closest things to me off the shelves without checking the prices.
Any price comparison ideologies went out the window. I needed to save my brain power.
We bumped past people with me doing my usual talking to myself to explain what I needed to do next.
Reese is used to me doing that
Job 4
All the pumps At the petrol station had ‘out of order’ boldly printed next to them on bright yellow signs. I wasted precious Neuron energy scanning the pumps to find one that was in order.
Job 5
We drive home and my mum collected Reese to take her to her house. Reese is sleeping over there again.
I’ve been in bed for the last hour trying To recover so I can see Reese for a bit.
Christmas is another time for me where I constantly feel as though I’m missing out on seeing my daughter.
But it’s ok. I look fine so I can’t be that bad
In the world most people live in, this behaviour is seen as moody or it’s just simply misunderstood. Try to remember not everything is at it seems for other people.
Writing makes me feel better when I feel down. It’s cathartic and therapeutic which does wonders for my head. It’s a release from the constant inertia of not being able to express to others, either when asked how I am or I have to phone in sick at work (again), or when someone angrily spats comments at me when I forget things, or bump into them, or when the government want proof that I have a disability, because it’s my way of shouting:
‘Under this Versade of looking like I’m ok I’m feeling so alone and fucking struggling and I don’t know how to tell you!’