Permission to Tell the Truth

An open and honest blog about TBI from Nicole Bingaman

My name is Nicole Bingaman. I became a student in the classroom of traumatic brain injury over five years ago. Since that time I have learned that love does win, but that love is also made up of incredibly tough moments.

Here, in this blog, I share the struggles I’ve faced, lessons I’ve gathered along this journey, and the ordinary and extraordinary moments that make up our days. I desire to offer a realistic perspective of hope with truthful acknowledgment of the brokenness that brain injury involves. I’ve learned that ignoring the painful emotions involved doesn’t make them disappear. It simply causes more pain. It took me a long time to acknowledge the depth of my own grief.

By giving myself permission to tell the truth, I hope that there can be healing for others who are walking this same road. Learn more about Nicole >

The Latest from Nicole

2,802 Days: My Son, His Truck, and TBI Seizures

Nicole and her son Taylor smiling at the camera.

Taylor’s pickup truck represented Taylor’s work ethic, his expression of masculinity, his love for country music, and a space of fun memories and experiences. Perhaps most glaringly, it represented something Taylor feels he has lost — his freedom. The decision to sell it came after another night of seizures.

Your Voices: TBI and COVID-19

In times of great distress, I sometimes forget that I am not alone in my struggles. I thought it might be helpful to hear from others in our community. I checked in with some caregivers and survivors, and here is what they had to say.

Dear BrainLine Community

Nicole holding up Black Lives Matter sign.

I have asked BrainLine to allow me to share this letter in place of my regular blog. It feels more important than ever that we not be silent about the things that matter.

Thank You Rehab Nurses for the Lessons Along the Way

Nicole looking into camera with pals together in front of her chest.

COVID-19 has left many caregivers struggling with the emotional pressures of isolation. Nicole remembers a pivotal conversation about the inevitability of change and offers some advice on ways to find some comfort and calm in these difficult times.

Heart Lifters, Light Bearers, and Hope Givers

Nicole Bingaman standing on a rock with one foot lifted and resting on her knee in a P shape.

What an awful, scary, and painful time it has been. I’ve wondered what (if anything) I should share. Some things seem so small now, and others so big...In this time of uncertainty it is important to tap into things that have previously helped you, and remind yourself of the goodness within you and around you.

An Overwhelmed Inspiration

Someone recently told me these kind words, “You inspire me.” I looked in the mirror feeling anything but inspiring...The word was OVERWHELMED.

Three Truths

My blog is titled Permission to Tell the Truth in an effort of honoring my feelings, not denying them. The actual act of truth telling is challenging. It hurts. Here we’ve established a relationship of trusting support. I’d like your continued permission to be open and real.

The Greatest Gifts

Taylor Bingaman with plaques showing pine tree carvings

As I moved throughout 2019 I asked myself, “What could people give survivors that would actually feel meaningful? What kinds of offerings and interactions provide a lasting impression?”

Hugs and Hard Truths

My name is Nicole Bingaman. I am a mother to three sons, all in their twenties. Our oldest son, Taylor, suffered a catastrophic brain injury seven years ago. There are some hard truths I’ve discovered about myself over the years. Please know some of them require great courage to share with you.

The Compassionate Equation

If there is a root to my pain, it is in this … I miss my son. I miss who Taylor was, and who we were as a mother and son. I am grieving someone who lives with me, who I see everyday. I felt as if I was losing more of Taylor, day by day.

5 Important Qualities of My Son’s TBI Healthcare Team

Nicole Bingaman three-quarter black and white photo

A gentleman asked me, “Looking back at the beginning of your journey, what could have been done on the healthcare team's end to help you?” Taking a deep breath, I realized the question was an open door. I wasn’t sure I felt fully prepared to walk through it. I’ve pondered this question since then and want to share five qualities of healthcare providers that left an impression on me.

Dear Fellow Caregivers

Nicole standing with fellow caregiver Danielle and young girl. All of them are smiling.

These words are part of my caregiving truth. Even though they are messy and imperfect, they are full of love. For you. For me. For the caregivers dealing with moments they can’t bring themselves to share, or those who want to cry, but find their tears have run dry.

Acceptance

Finding acceptance after a brain injury isn't easy. "For a long while, I bucked against our reality. I found myself caught between what I had once known and an uncertain future. The in-between caused marked turmoil. As much as I didn’t want to accept Taylor’s brain injury as part of our lives, it is. As much as I wish it didn’t affect Taylor and our family … it does."

The Caregiving Metamorphosis

It was hard for me to track my own evolution. But growth was taking place.

No Greater Love

Over the last few months, a group of people has weighed heavily on my heart. I’ve been thinking about them, and I’ve wanted to express my concern and compassion for them. They are the siblings of brain injury survivors. What happens when your brother or sister suffers with a brain trauma?

The Fierce Heart of Hope

Hope is complicated. It represents believing something can improve, despite the current state of circumstances. It also means having the courage to believe when things appear hopeless. I have become well acquainted with the infinite value of hope, but also the tightrope on which it teeters.

2,259 Days and Counting

Caregiving is hard. The lack of support for adults with brain injury (in our area) is ridiculous. I find myself wanting to scream when people ask, "Don't they have services for that?”

The Complexity of Ambiguous Loss

The emotional equivalent of being caught in the undertow came earlier this week. I was scrolling through old photos, reconnecting to moments captured in time. I found my mind trapped in the tumultuous waters of ambiguous grief, fighting my way to the surface.

The Missing

Life inside the bubble of brain injury is a roller coaster. In our bubble, the daytime is generally good. Nighttime brings the opposite. Each evening, Taylor's post-injury thought process evolves into a profound sense of sadness, frustration, and defeat. It is hell to witness.

Sunshine & Security

In learning how to manage the small, we become better equipped to manage the large. A well-rounded caregiver doesn’t just come into being because a trauma occurred. Becoming is a process, a transformation.

Plain Vanilla

In August, we were presented with both high and low points. Our son, Taylor, was able to attempt to return back to work two days a week. Within fifteen days of returning to work, Taylor lost his brain injury service waiver. We had to hope nothing happened. And then…it did.

The Balloon

Being a survivor takes dedication. From my vantage point, you have to be many things. The first, and perhaps most obvious is that survivorship requires strength. Strength is required no matter what stage of recovery or healing the survivor is in.

Your Happiness Matters

Our minds are both a beautiful and cruel playground, brain injured or not. Be careful about what you let on that playground, and when your thoughts seem to lean severely in a negative direction, recognize that in painful times, we sometimes think and believe things that are untrue

The Hike

My life as the caregiver and mother of a brain injury survivor is similar to being on a challenging hike. You gather the proper gear and feel adequately prepared. You begin the hike with an overcomer’s attitude, looking forward to moving through the miles...

Sitting With the Suffering

Nicole Bingaman Beautiful Truth April 2018

When brain injury comes into a family, it is an unwelcome guest, sitting at the table every single night. In time, you have to learn to accept the guest, and what the presence of it means. You can’t just pretend it isn’t there, and you can’t act like you know the totality of all that is involved.