Recovery from a brain injury can feel all-encompassing. Understandably, it needed to take the front seat as I learned to navigate life as a newly minted brain injury survivor. Looking back on those early years after my traumatic brain injury, I see a medical landscape peppered with visits to neurologists, neuropsychologists, sleep specialists, and others whose core expertise focused on treating me as a brain injury survivor.
But there is more to wellness than treating brain injury alone. I am a living, breathing, oftentimes thriving human being with a whole lot more than just a brain injury. My attention early on was focused entirely on getting over my brain injury. It was a completely understandable focus, considering that my injury affected every aspect of my life more than any other medical challenge I had faced to date.
As time passed, I quickly realized that I was struggling with emotional challenges that significantly impacted my quality of life. It’s hard to live with almost daily suicidal ideation and not have it affect you. I sought the help of a qualified mental health professional — not out of virtue, but out of necessity. I was life-weary from all my newfound challenges and unable to visualize a life worth living with a brain injury. Thankfully, that is in the past. Today, I have a profound appreciation for simply being alive. I credit my journey from there to here directly to the quality of mental health care I received. My practitioner was kind and compassionate. Under her care, I took my first steps toward a different kind of mental wellness — one where I learned the value of leaning into my challenges. It was a veritable game-changer.
Being mindful of my overall health is not a one-and-done event. I was only 49 at the time of my injury. Now, at 63 years old, I’ve enjoyed relatively good health for many years, but not without bumps in the road. As I’ve shared innumerable times, I’ve jumped in and out of treatment for PTSD over the years. It’s a bit of a PTSD two-step — I do relatively well for a while, until a resurgence of symptoms drives me back into treatment. I firmly believe that none of us should needlessly suffer. I do all I can to stay on top of my mental and emotional wellness. First, because I deserve to live my best life possible, but a close second is for those I love. I owe them the best version of me possible. I no longer need to remind myself that mental healthcare is healthcare. Seeking help when things aren’t right has been completely normalized in my world. There’s even a bit of selfishness in it — I prefer to feel good.
Over the years, I’ve navigated diabetes care, cardiac care, and regular visits to my PCP. Some have been preventative, others reactive. The takeaway is that I’m not solely focused on my brain injury. I have this whole living, breathing entity named David who occasionally needs looking after.
If I am one of the lucky ones, I will continue to age, and with the passage of years may come more challenges that have nothing to do with brain injury. That singular focus on brain injury is now gone. I have learned the value of stepping back and looking at my own personal worldview. Perspectives are funny things. I used to think that if I could learn to live with a brain injury, all my worries and cares would evaporate. The irony is that I have learned to live with a brain injury.
Despite my ongoing challenges, I’ve been able to engage with humanity and live a good, decent, and honorable life. But that acceptance only goes so far. The bigger question is this: Am I being mindful and attentive to all aspects of staying both physically and mentally well? In this moment, I can answer that in the affirmative. I’m a pseudo-senior with a brain injury, diabetes, a dash of mental health challenges, and a relatively newly diagnosed heart issue. But I’m a happy guy. And you can’t put a price on that.