“The Strange Days That Followed” or “My New Life and the New Person I Had Become Post-TBI” Part 3

in #mental-health5 years ago

One of the more interesting parts of this was in late 2014 when I began to date a woman who, for the sake of propriety and fairness to her, will be called Lynn. Lynn was attractive in many ways — she had a bubbly personality and she seemed to be pretty bright. She was educated, had a stable job, and she was really sweet.

At first.

Lynn was exceptional at using a smokescreen. She had a ton of people fooled, myself included. Skipping to the end for a second, she was not the person that she purported herself to be. It was a bit disappointing, admittedly.
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So we spent some time together, and I found that I was pushing myself. I had not yet started Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) as of yet, as my stubborn streak was still going strong. My time with her actually brought me to the point of needing it — my subconscious was doing what it was supposed to do, and that was processing during the nighttime, which resulted in some pretty crazy dreams. Dreams that plagued me, dreams that frightened me, dreams that I was afraid to share with her.

The fear is what drove me to seek some help. Once I made the call and met with a counselor, it was determined that, due to the Traumatic Brain Incident (TBI), that CBT was strongly recommended and encouraged by the counselor. And so I began my journey.
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It was unsettling to come to realize all that I had lost. I felt slower in general, but I was unaware of the extent of the memory issues that I was facing. I mean, I knew that I was having issues remembering things — that had continued well past the point where I was declared medically fit and healthy from the neck down. CBT was a weekly occurrence for me from that point, and it led to a certain level of tension between Lynn and me. There was a slow dawning that Lynn was not everything she had claimed to be; as the relationship progressed, her mask began to slip. The stress was something that I carried with me to CBT, which proved to be beneficial.

I used to be rather insightful and socially functional at warp speed.
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Now, I was missing some of the rather obvious clues, indicators, and markers that would have kept me far away from someone like Lynn in the first place. My CBT therapist/counselor, Rob, remarked to me one day how he had noticed a trend in my attitude since I had arrived: there was more anger and frustration, which was to be expected, but not from the sectors of my life that he had anticipated. That came to a head one day when I realized that I was getting very little emotional support from Lynn during the difficult time of relearning how to cope and deal with certain things, such as panic attacks. Lynn is the reason why I came up with the “Amputation Analogy” that I used in my post “Strange Days” (https://steemit.com/mental-health/@phoenix32/strange-days-or-my-week-without-my-meds):

  • Her friend had lost his entire left arm due to his car accident.
  • A stroke victim might have lost her entire left hand.
  • I only lost a couple of fingers on my left hand (I am right-handed), although I am a concert pianist and I am expected to continue to play with 3 fingers but with the same skill and prowess as when I had 5 fingers.

Even then, she seemed to turn a blind eye to my needs and focused only on her wants.

One particular day, I walked in a complete mess. I mean, I was a disaster. I had learned coping mechanisms for anger as a youth, as should every child. This incident was the coin that helped me to take some necessary steps in my life. The one side of the coin was the fact that I was truly and rightly pissed off. I cannot sugar-coat that. I was ready to rage, and the mental tools and exercises that I had used prior to the TBI were no longer at my disposal — and I was learning it at just that moment. The other side of the coin was that I learned something about Lynn that I just did not bloody like, not one little bit.

So Rob decided to forgo most of the cognitive exercises and therapy and focused on the counseling aspect. That suited me, as I had no patience for anything. I also had no filter, since I practically vomited the problem onto his desk, as it were.

tl;dr — Lynn had a “friend” that she used to date a few years before she and I met, and every now and then, her “friend” would come and pay her a visit. Now, I am not insane or irrational, but when the person you are dating tells you certain things regarding that person’s ex, they tend to set you off. For instance:

  • He had to sneak away from his fiancé to visit.
  • He always brings gifts for Lynn and her daughter.
  • He is the “closest thing to a father figure” that her daughter has right now.

Shady. Like, wicked shady. Like, Slim Shady.
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Meanwhile, I am the guy who adjusted his work schedule, purposely scheduled very-necessary CBT, and adjusted his life to help her get her daughter to and from athletic practice in the afternoon. I’m the one who comes over on Sundays and cooks dinner. I am the one doing the hard work — moving furniture when she wants to clean or re-arrange her apartment, taking her car for oil changes and maintenance, making sure that there was food in her fridge when she got back from a long trip. And this guy, this ex-boyfriend… He’s the good guy? He’s the gorram superhero?

Yeah, I was pissed off.

I was, frankly, afraid of his intentions. If she saw this ex as some sort of good guy even though he had to sneak around on his fiancé to visit, it made me wonder what else he could convince her of? It wasn’t so much that I didn’t trust her, but I was 1,000% certain that he had every intention of getting in her knickers.

And I was also afraid that I was off the mark with it. I mean, there was a TON of stress with learning that I had lost a whole lot more of my mental capacity than I had realized. I was also running myself ragged trying to help Lynn with transportation for her daughter. Plus, she was starting to show her colors and was not showing much affection, appreciation, or caring towards me. So I ran it by Rob, because I really was concerned that I was in the midst of a mental maelstrom and not able to discern my thoughts properly. Thankfully, he agreed with me on all counts: (1) that I had not missed the mark with this, (2) that I needed to relearn some tools for my anger, and (3) that this guy certainly had every single intention of getting in her delicates.

Fortunately, since I had the opportunity right then, we began with relearning techniques to control and channel my emotions. This was good, because I must have sustained some damage to my amygdala, but I was also able to relearn what I needed to know. I was never a hair-trigger rageosaurus rex, and thank God I still was not. It was good to know that my anger with Lynn was justified.

CBT and I continued on, as did Lynn and I, despite several bumps. One of the bumps that CBT and I faced was that the practice had a split, and Rob was part of the one half and no longer working in the office in my region. So that was when I was switched over to my new CBT therapist/counselor. It was a great transition, honestly, and as difficult as it was to start over — build trust, an understanding, a relationship — it was actually a really key part of my CBT process. I mean, breaking process and resuming with a new therapist/counselor was not easy, and it forced me to face things as they were, to cope with them, and to make adjustments — man, that really was a gift.

Kay was different from Rob. Whereas I felt that I could be rather blunt with Rob, he and I having built a relationship over the months, I felt like I needed to hold back a bit with Kay. This proved to be detrimental, as she quickly proved that she was capable of handling whatever I had to throw to her (yes, “to” and not “at”). She asked me for clarification on the whole “Lynn and her ex” situation, and recapping that for Kay helped me to realize that I could be as open with her as I had been with Rob. I found myself apologizing to her, which she assured me was unnecessary, as I had not insulted her, just held myself back for a few weeks.

And progress. Slowly at times, rapidly at others. I was able to manage the breakup with Lynn with great ease thanks to the re-establishment of healthy emotional management techniques. Still, it was not enough, and I finally broke down my resistance to medication. I took a small measure of satisfaction in seeing the look of surprise cross Kay’s usually positive features as I said the words:

“I know that I have fought it, but I think I have reached the limit of what I can do on my own here. I think that it is time to really look into medications now. I’m ready.”

There’s a whole more to the journey of getting on the meds, finding the right dosage, and even a changeover to a second type. And maybe one day I’ll want to share that story…
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