This year is going to be either a wonderful year of small successes leading to an overall fizzing glow of self satisfaction, or an unmitigated disaster in which I actually lose nothing, even a non gambler would take those odds
It’s taken me two and a quarter years to realise that I wasn’t either managing or coping with the demands of recovering from my crash, when you have a list of damage that’s so long that even a non-brain damaged person would struggle I was always going to fail without help and that’s exactly what happened.
Instead of actually working on recovery I found it difficult to remember appointments, then as I wasn’t able and still cant work I couldn’t afford the bus fair sometimes, it’s not just physio, it’s neuro, cardio, urology I had appointments on appointments and I missed so many because frankly already don’t eat much because the state gives e so little and on appointment days it really is either get some treatment or eat.
Money is something Im getting used to doing without, my social life is non-existent, I don’t go out socially and while Ms Pianist Fingers and I do things essentially it’s a sex based relationship without the nonsense, I’m not relationship material and fuck it, it’s her expenses account, let big pharma pay.
It’s not just the money that keeps me in but the pain I live with, I also suffer confusion, oh god, here come the water works; something has shifted in me it’s so slight that I missed it concentrating on the immediately obvious damage but it’s like my understanding of society has been reduced, I can’t even explain it because I never really noticed it while I had it.
I still Mentally I still struggle. I still struggle with the thoughts of the next 40 years of my life wasted when I could have been so much more, I still hate that life has been so fucking hard and just when I was getting on top that this happens.
Education was my solitude from my father who was abusive in every context, and some stupid wanker stepping out looking at his iPhone robbed me of that, I’m trying to hand crank my brain, I sit here everyday using the software that I’ve used for years in the hope that shit kicks in and I get the Hollywood ending. Sadly I spend more time crying in frustration as a realise slowly that I’ll never do my old job or anything like it again but every day I torture myself through tears, slowly beating myself to breaking point.
Counselor’s tell me I can do something else, they live in the accentuate they think it would healthy if I moved on, honestly to me that sounds like quitting, I would hate myself so much but like so many things in my life I never know when I take it far, I never been one to step off.
They want me to do therapy, I agree I need it because of the brain damage I’ve lost my ability to be divergent over my childhood experiences and I’m having sensate flashbacks that paralyse me, thankfully they don’t happen very often. I don’t think it’s possible to do therapy and the brain damage rehab work, and the brain damage is far more important than me having case of the bu-hoo’s because daddy loved me way too much.
If my neuro rehab hasn’t improved by June I’ll accept it and move to therapy, because will I had be all hard about in paper it’s not as easy about it in real life but I’ve been fronting that topic out for so long it’s my default position, I tell people I own my shit, and while I try on the childhood I don’t know how to move beyond that i had seven years of therapy 10 years ago and that gave me was a grim sense of twisted humour and the view that the social sciences are wishy washy filddy squibles when it comes to a solid outcome. I like solid outcomes. Really I don’t see the point in spilling my guts to a total stranger unless the payoff is “ this is how you fix your shit”, I hate therapy, part of me thinks it’s just bullshit cathartic nonsense but I made a deal with myself and that’s it, June.
I’m still debating the life expectancy issue with my suicidal intentions, now that is something that I’m willing to engage with from the off but the solution is very much grounded in the solution to the self of self problems linked to the brain damage and memory loss. If those aren’t solved and I don’t get back to work then my future is grim and I can’t accept living like that, especially without family support.
The worst case scenario is that the neuro rehab gets doesn’t work and on top of the I’ll have the natural aging factors and it’s quite possible I’ll be a simpleton at the hands of the state, that isn’t going to happen so I have things to consider I don’t even see it as suicide, it’s euthanasia; the actual suicide problem I have is obviously linked with mood and at the moment I’d say things are livable and while I’m busy trying to get my brain going I don’t hate myself so much.
I’m also slowly quitting cycling, I’ll not stop riding and my pains won’t ever let me be any good so what’s the point, I also need some new shoes and i know for certain if i can’t afford food i damned sure can’t afford them. Market prices for cycling are stupid but if they didn’t get me the pain would so i’m not that bent out of shape about it.