That's right, in 4 days I "celebrate" my one year anniversary of my accident. I have trouble remembering much of the past year. I remember my vague thoughts as I was coming out of a comatose state. I remember relearning to walk. I remember my first day back at home. I remember my wife's struggles for me without any partner.
I remember figuring out where the Krempels Center is located. I remember the first time I went there. I drove myself there without getting lost and introduced myself. I remember the few Masonic gatherings I was able to attend. I remember meeting the august gentleman who is New Hampshire's Grandmaster Mason. I remember how humbling it was to be in his presence and not be overwhelmed at the same time.
Sadly, there is one thing that I do remember. I can't forget how embarrassing I was as a person. On a society level I was a blot upon the sun. Embarrasing myself, that does not linger as fair as shame or guilt is concerned. However embarrassing another, that lingers onward.
Much of my efforts these days is trying to correct any awkward feelings I caused to exist. However, this is not easy. I've already learned one harsh lesson while trying to say sorry. Sometimes sorry is not what people want to hear. Figuring out what they want is so nebulous that touch something here irratates another spot. And with the "net' being so powerful, it is easy for offended people to find much to deepen, and stregthen, thier annoyance.
Add to which, I've been using this forum to speak my mind as thoughts come to me. This fuels the problem. For example, there was (locally) a rash of spiteful vandalism a few months ago. While it has died down, no more acts have taken place, the local Police Department is leering my way. My inability to sleep the night through leave me awake at off hours. Sometimes I'll go out in my backyard and stare at the night sky. I take my cane and flashlight with me as there is a local coyote population. If a coyote wants to say hi to me I just want to say hi back in a language he/she understands.
However the P.D. is now looking at me for the vandal acts. Apparently I want to start a neighborhood watch and to get it started I committed these acts of vandalism. So instead of learning more about Traumatic Brain Injury & how to assist with it, the local police officers are learning more about George Zimmerman and the craziness of ill motivated people.
This was just one example, I have many people and organizations that have struck at me (peripherally) just because I am different than the norm. Before my accident, I was still different I just knew how to "hide" it so that people did not notice. My memory being so dicey has made my old skill of "seeming normal" is gone leaving only the mind of a Mensan of high integrity with Combat experience & training. Can one imagine why the police are looking sideways at me?
However, issues aside, this is painful and draining. Here I am always trying to remember my limitations (I do forget them) and try to "normalize" myself to acceptable society standards. I'm just having trouble finding my box. I would happily shrink myself into an acceptable box but I can't find it. Makes me wish for my pine box but that is depression speaking. I know that if I wanted my pine box, I would not have to look far for a person willing to consign my VFW old butt into it.
I remember figuring out where the Krempels Center is located. I remember the first time I went there. I drove myself there without getting lost and introduced myself. I remember the few Masonic gatherings I was able to attend. I remember meeting the august gentleman who is New Hampshire's Grandmaster Mason. I remember how humbling it was to be in his presence and not be overwhelmed at the same time.
Sadly, there is one thing that I do remember. I can't forget how embarrassing I was as a person. On a society level I was a blot upon the sun. Embarrasing myself, that does not linger as fair as shame or guilt is concerned. However embarrassing another, that lingers onward.
Much of my efforts these days is trying to correct any awkward feelings I caused to exist. However, this is not easy. I've already learned one harsh lesson while trying to say sorry. Sometimes sorry is not what people want to hear. Figuring out what they want is so nebulous that touch something here irratates another spot. And with the "net' being so powerful, it is easy for offended people to find much to deepen, and stregthen, thier annoyance.
Add to which, I've been using this forum to speak my mind as thoughts come to me. This fuels the problem. For example, there was (locally) a rash of spiteful vandalism a few months ago. While it has died down, no more acts have taken place, the local Police Department is leering my way. My inability to sleep the night through leave me awake at off hours. Sometimes I'll go out in my backyard and stare at the night sky. I take my cane and flashlight with me as there is a local coyote population. If a coyote wants to say hi to me I just want to say hi back in a language he/she understands.
However the P.D. is now looking at me for the vandal acts. Apparently I want to start a neighborhood watch and to get it started I committed these acts of vandalism. So instead of learning more about Traumatic Brain Injury & how to assist with it, the local police officers are learning more about George Zimmerman and the craziness of ill motivated people.
This was just one example, I have many people and organizations that have struck at me (peripherally) just because I am different than the norm. Before my accident, I was still different I just knew how to "hide" it so that people did not notice. My memory being so dicey has made my old skill of "seeming normal" is gone leaving only the mind of a Mensan of high integrity with Combat experience & training. Can one imagine why the police are looking sideways at me?
However, issues aside, this is painful and draining. Here I am always trying to remember my limitations (I do forget them) and try to "normalize" myself to acceptable society standards. I'm just having trouble finding my box. I would happily shrink myself into an acceptable box but I can't find it. Makes me wish for my pine box but that is depression speaking. I know that if I wanted my pine box, I would not have to look far for a person willing to consign my VFW old butt into it.
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