Hello and welcome back to Liveliness my amazing readers.
This post is about blogging. Fancy that. A blog post about blogging.
This post is for the three readers that will see this post. Hello, how are you? Go ahead and introduce yourself in the comments if you like.
Blogging is hard. Mostly because hardly anyone reads my blog. I don’t say that to guilt trip anyone, it’s just a fact. I thought that by now I would have at least a few subscribers, but I have one subscriber. And that one subscriber is me.
Sometimes I feel like I am speaking into the void, but I keep writing to have a creative outlet, for the off chance that I might connect with someone, and because it gives my days off of work some purpose. For example, writing this blog post will save me from at least twenty minutes of scrolling through YouTube shorts, although I do love them.
One of the best things about blogging though, is the free AI image generator built into the word press posting software. It has leveled up my game with post images. It summarizes what I have written in the post for me and creates a prompt to make an image that encapsulates what the blog post is about.
Anyways, if you want to help me on my blogging journey, let me know what I could do to improve my blog posts, I would appreciate the feedback. And let me know what kind of blog post you would like to read in the future.
What I’ve been loving
I have a new Beauty of Joseon Ginseng Cleansing Oilthat I have been liking. It has cleared my skin more than Cetaphil, Neutrogena, or CeraVe, so if those brands aren’t working for you I would suggest looking into Beauty of Joseon.
I also have this new gold twist ring that I have been loving. It is part of my everyday basic jewelry and goes with everything.
Weekly Inspiration
For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.
Moses 1:39
God’s goal is for us to become immortal and have eternal life. He is good at his job. A reason that you can choose joy in this life is because you are looking forward to what is to come.
Darmin breathed heavily, excitement filling his chest. He was so close. His eyes scanned the page of the heavy, weathered book, its edges tattered from centuries of use. The smooth leather-bound spine pressed into his hand. Running his finger down the yellowed pages his eyes fell upon what he needed printed in scrawling, loopy cursive: The Great Wizard Ashberg.
The Great Wizard Ashberg, he read in his mind, is to be found in Danin Collin Valley. Finally. His years of searching had come to fruition. His eyes raked over the rest of the small print on the page but found nothing else helpful. Closing his book and returning it to the worn shelf of the old library, Darmin nodded to himself, knowing what needed to be done as he tromped to his dwelling. Ample preparation would be needed for the journey ahead.
In his home he packed food: dried meats, bread, and cheese; a change of clothes; a map; and a nap sack. Grabbing a gnarled walking stick from outside, he rehearsed everything else he needed in his head. It would be a long journey to Danin Collin Valley.
Walking along a river on a beaten path, Darmin knew what he wanted, and another book had confirmed that the Great Wizard Ashberg could provide it for him. It was important as everything he did was, but this was the most important thing he had ever attempted. Dared he think it? An army. Made of shadows. He believed he had the skill to conjure it. It would take months of preparation of course, and who knew what state Ashberg would be in when He arrived in Danin Collin. Aside from the pride he felt blooming in his heart, he also felt a flicker of fear. What if it didn’t work? Or what if Ashberg refused to teach him?
Great Ashberg was most known for leading the Naroth army into battle. Fiercely conjuring spells alongside some of the bravest men in history, he had defended his homeland. The men had been strong and fought with axes and swords, but they would not have been victorious had it not been for Ashberg leading them, dealing death blow after death blow and striking courage into the hearts of his comrades.
As Darmin walked on the pine-needle laiden path the smell of pine assailed his senses. Listening to the rushing waters of the river, he felt peaceful. His mood matched his surroundings that held gently cawing birds and a slight breeze. A feeling of elation bounced in his stomach denoting his excitement at drawing nearer to Ashberg and the creation of his great army.
Days and nights passed with Darmin sleeping on the ground and eating his provisions. On the seventh morning, having arrived to his sleeping place that night in the dark, he awoke on a hill, sitting up to see a view of Danin Collin Valley. Multitudes of vibrant green trees, oak and pine, dotted the valley along with a brown mass of a small village on the far east side that was highlighted by the rising sun. Darmin took a deep inhale and admired the view. It was glorious, but a world this glorious had still not seen the might and power of his soon to be army. The world could only be made better by it, and Darmin reveled in the thought of the riches that lay in his future.
Trekking into the woods to find Ashberg, since he certainly did not live in a village, because wizards did not often mix with humans, they preferred privacy to practice their magic in peace. The humans tended to bother the wizards with requests to use their magic for them, he found a path to traverse. Walking through the trees for a day and a night, he looked for him until the next day he came upon a stone hut with a straw roof built between two groves of aspen trees. This may be the hut of Ashberg.
He straightened himself and walked up to the door and knocked. Pearly white teeth bit his lip as he felt a thrill of anxiousness race down his spine. He waited thirty seconds until the door creaked open. The Great Wizard Ashberg himself stood on the other side of the threshold. He had a short white beard and scraggly white eyebrows. He was balding too. He was wearing a green wizard’s robe which had sleeves that hit an inch above his wrists. He was little known to all wizards and all people in general due to the dark magic that he possessed. But to the ones that did know him, the ones who practiced dark magic, and in Darmin’s book, the ones who counted, he was agreed upon to be great.
“Hello,” Darmin said, “I am come to–.”
“Who are you?” Ashberg interrupted, glaring at him.
“I am the wizard Darmin, come to seek your mentorship on a rumored spell that creates armies.”
Ashberg just stared at him for several seconds until Darmin wasn’t sure if he had heard him. Then he said, “Come in.”
Darmin regaled him with the story of his long trek to find him and explained his intention of creating a shadow army. To rule the world no less. Darmin was one to revel in opulence and seek out riches and the finer things in this world. He explained that Ashberg was the one he needed to bring his goal to completion.
“I agree, you do need me,” he said, “this spell is a dangerous one indeed. It hasn’t been attempted for eons. The records of its outcomes and effects are sparse. I can’t recommend that you try to learn the spell, therefore, I refuse to teach you.”
Darmin couldn’t believe it. He had come all this way just to be refused. Anger welled up inside of him, “If you won’t teach it to me, I will find a way to learn it myself.”
“That is impossible. You would be remiss to attempt it on your own and of course I am the only one who possesses such knowledge.”
“Please, I beg of you, I must create this army,” He said, his voice going hoarse. Darmin stared at Ashberg. Then, muttering words, he began to say an incantation to disable Ashberg.
“Are you attempting a spell against me?” Ashberg roared in outrage. He muttered a counterattack and Darmin’s voice was silenced. Ashberg took a steadying breath, sensing he was safe now.
Eventually he said in resignation, “I am too old to deny it to you, I might as well pass on the knowledge before I am gone. Very well, I shall teach you. It is called the spell of Gnarlock. Come.”
Darmin’s vocals restored, Ashberg led Darmin behind the hut where he saw another building built out of sturdy-looking wood. Coming to the door they both stepped inside and Darmin saw that it was an observatory of sorts that was filled with magical equipment and shelves lined with books. Cauldrons and misplaced books and maps littered a table along with beakers, telescopes, and jars filled with strange looking plants.
Ashberg walked up a set of old stairs to a loft that housed shelves. Pulling an old leather-bound copy off the shelf and bringing it down to the table where Darmin awaited, Ashberg gave Darmin a long look. Then, muttering to himself, he began thumbing through pages, stopping on a less used-looking page. The page was titled The Spell Of Gnarlock and was covered with warnings about the danger of the spell. One read: Those who attempt this spell may unleash more than they intend. The author advised that the spell was for reading purposes only and should not be attempted. Darmin disregarded the warnings.
Ashberg read aloud, “The spell of Gnarlock takes a potion brewed with rare ingredients over a fire, completed on the night of a full moon with dozens of words that must be memorized and said out loud over the potion. Then one must drink the potion, then spit in the fire and remove the cauldron. The fire will then grow bright and the Gnarlock will form. A dark mist will emerge and form into a human shape until it resembles the silhouette of a person that is long and slender. Then this will be repeated, one by one, until your army is formed.” Under that it listed ingredients to the potion and the words that needed to be memorized.
“The words to the spell of Gnarlock: Sen argentum nastaroth slenseeth a mandulum comarlune ya an argun solan a mendan thenmarnarnap insen deena nroth argun carn nemdulum argentum a slenseeth an rhenarn yandere en andrel endreb bener nastaron aneron a argentum.”
“Those are quite unique words,” Darmin said
“They are the words that make an army for you. Do not take them lightly,” Ashberg commanded.
“And these potion ingredients,” Darmin remarked running his finger along the page, “I’ve never seen half of them,”
“I know where to find them,” said Ashberg, “But we will have to take a journey for some of them, many are hard to find,”
“Lead the way,” said Darmin.
II
At last, it was ready. Ashberg and Darmin had labored for nearly a year perfecting their spell. Part of Darmin thought that the reason for Ashberg’s tireless laboring was that he wanted his legacy passed down to Darmin. Perhaps if Darmin was successful he could be remembered as having the Great Wizard Ashberg as his mentor and Ashberg would have one more accomplishment to his name before he died.
Gathering ingredients and memorizing words, while also practicing proper pronunciation and techniques, they were finally ready. It was the night of the full moon and Ashberg and Darmin were busy building a fire in a clearing by Ashberg’s hut. Once done Ashberg placed his cauldron on some wood over the flames. He started putting the rare ingredients in, following the directions with exactly as written. It took hours for the potion to brew. Then, once it was ready, Ashberg ordered Darmin to say the words.
He recited from memory, “Sen argentum nastaroth slenseeth a mandulum comarlune ya an argun solan a mendan thenmarnarnap insen deena nroth argun carn nemdulum argentum a slenseeth an rhenarn yandere en andrel endreb bener nastaron aneron a argentum.”
The final words left his lips as he quickly dipped the ladel. The bubbling liquid was poured into the glass. Smiling, Darmin drank it. With a mighty blow he spat it into the fire. Quickly, he pulled the cauldron from the flames. The fire grew brighter and brighter, then so bright they had to look away. Then a small glowing mass formed and grew more concentrated in the center of the fire.
The mass began to radiate blackness inches from its center. It stood like that for a few seconds then it fell into the fire with a thud putting the fire out. A round black translucent stone sat there with a bright center two inches wide. The black portion of the rock was the size of two fists put together. A dark mist began to emmenate from the rock. It grew and grew, undulating around the rock and extinguished the fire. Growing some more it began to form shape. Resembling a translucent silhouette of a human as the book had described, tall and slender, it stood there for a second. Then something crackled and popped, and the fire sparked back to life and the silhouette was scattered. A roar went up out of the fire, and something like a shooting star shot out of the fire and into the woods.
“Oh no,” Ashberg said gravely, “I knew this wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“What was that,” Darmin asked, slightly breathlessly.
“That was very bad news. I am not quite sure what it was, but we will find out soon enough.”
The fire went out again. The silhouette reformed from the rock – its source of power, the Gnarlock. Then another one formed. And another. They kept forming until there were hundreds then thousands of them standing silently amongst the trees.
“Wow, I’VE DONE IT!”He exclaimed, feeling jubilant and beaming at his army of Argentas.
“Something went wrong,” Ashberg commented, “There shouldn’t have been that roar or that flash of whatever we saw.” Ashberg checked his book. He looked grave.
“What is it?” Darmin asked.
“We may have created a beast,” Ashberg said, “Look,” he pointed to a picture on the page. It was of a six legged hard shelled creature with antennas.
“What do they do?” Darmin asked.
“it doesn’t say, all it has is the picture, but it can’t be good.” The monster had shot off into the distance, too far for Darmin and Ashberg to see it. They looked around at their army.
“We march for the palace in the morning,” Darmin commanded, “But what of the monster?” He asked Ashberg.
“We must search for it, the situation is too dire,” he said, strained. Darmin commanded his army to stay put and followed Ashberg through the trees.
III
Hours later, Darmin and Ashberg came upon a village. The houses’ walls were bent and mangled, with sides crushed inward. were torn down and crumbled pieces of the statue in the city square lay on the cobblestone streets.
“How has this happened?” Darmin said in shock. Darmin and Ashberg hurried forward to survey the wreckage up close.
“I’m guessing that whatever that thing was last night did this,” Ashberg remarked as he surveyed the collapsed remnants.
“I think so too,” remarked Darmin. Then his eyes grew big, “Look out,” He said. Ashberg turned around and first saw two long antennas. He followed them to see the hard shell, pointy teeth, and six legs. Coming to just below Ashberg’s knee, the creature pointed its antenna at Ashberg and they began to glow.
“It’s just a baby,” he said. Then Ashberg’s knees began to wobble suspiciously.
“No,” He breathed. His breathing quickened as if he was running. Fumbling in his mind for any spell that could counteract this creature he at last thought of one and said it, pointing at the creature. It had little effect, only making the creature stumble, before getting back up and continuing to weaken Ashberg. Darmin tried a spell too. It did the same thing. Then they both rapidly fired whatever spells came to mind but the creature was unyielding.
“Run.” Darmin said. They both turned to run and the creature followed, easily keeping up. Then it caught up and pinned Ashberg to the ground with its six pointy legs. Ashberg grew even weaker and stopped being able to fight back.
“No!” Darmin yelled, he fired spell after spell at the nameless creature, but it kept Ashberg pinned.
“Run!” Ashberg yelled. Darmin hesitated, but then saw that he had no choice and ran. He didn’t know where else to go so he ran towards Ashberg’s hut. Ashberg remained pinned under the creature, still weakening. He inhaled, “Run,” he whispered one last time, and he exhaled through his mouth with a soft huh sound, not being able to find another inhale.
In part 1 of this series I explained what happened the night of my accident, some symptoms I noticed, and frustrations I had concerning my functionality post-concussion. In this post I want to provide a more detailed list of the symptoms I experienced, describe what life was like with them, and describe some of the treatment I received.
After a couple weeks of having a concussion I had accumulated many symptoms. I experienced:
Visual impairments: problems with tracking, fixation, reading, and light sensitivity.
Dysautonomia: easily startled and issues calming down after being startled, problems breathing–I couldn’t stop thinking about my breathing at times and got out of breath after saying only a few sentences, anxiety, and gastrointestinal issues, muscle tightness–especially in my neck.
Insomnia: I could only sleep 5-6 hours a night, took a long time to fall asleep, and woke up during the night.
Muscle spasms: mainly in my neck, but they occurred all over my body
Cognitive issues: severe brain fog, memory issues, concentration issues, and word retrieval issues.
Fatigue
Noise sensitivity
Depression
Exercise intolerance
These symptoms were constant and only got worse the harder I tried.
There was also the matter of overstimulation. If you don’t know what overstimulation is, it is when your brain receives more sensory input than it can process so your energy spikes, then crashes and it leaves you feeling exhausted with exacerbated symptoms. This happened to me within five minutes of waking up and happened several times throughout the day. It is an exhausting way to live. It also left me questioning whether I really had a concussion in the energy spikes and discouraged in the crashes.
Later, after six months of having this injury, I developed tinnitus and speech issues.
My main symptoms were brain fog and vision issues. Incredibly, I didn’t develop headaches as a continual symptom. I had only a few headaches over the period of time I had a concussion.
Life was a living hell with these symptoms. I couldn’t enjoy the activities I normally enjoyed like reading and running, and couldn’t even do the things that I did to rejuvenate myself when I was tired like watching a movie or YouTube because even those simple activities were exhausting and left me with severe brain fog and anxiety about what was going on in my brain.
I felt very angry and felt that it was a great injustice that I had to go through this. I thought that God was trying to teach me a lesson in patience or compassion, so I made sure to learn my lesson real quick so that God could heal me from my injury since I had the faith for him to do so. Passing months proved that God was not healing me from my injury as I had hoped.
I was also ashamed to be going through this. Why, when thousands of people are healed from concussions every year was I left to suffer on my own? I felt shame when I had to tell my parents to finally take me to the doctor two months later since I wasn’t healing.
One quick recommendation I have for anyone suffering from a concussion is to go to the doctor or emergency room as soon as possible after you are injured.
The doctors appointment left me feeling misunderstood and in tears. The doctor had simply asked me a few questions, diagnosed me with a concussion, and referred me to a sports medicine doctor, leaving me uneducated about my condition and unsure of what to do next. Didn’t the doctor see the severity of what I was dealing with? Couldn’t he see the pain and suffering I handled every day? I had expected some empathy and some answers and got neither.
When I left the doctor’s office crying my mom asked me in an indignant tone why I was crying and I told her that it was a big deal to have a concussion. She assured me that we would figure it out and not stop until we had. It gave me a little bit of comfort, but I still felt alone and broken. My life had seemed to have stopped while the world had kept going and I didn’t know what to do.
The only thing I could figure to do was keep going which in hindsight was not the best idea. I should have focused on getting treatment instead of work and school. Alas, I obtained a job working at a produce stand for the summer after high school. The customers probably just thought I was exhausted when they saw me mess up multiple times, or not understand what they were saying to me. I did my best, but most days I was overstimulated to the point of not knowing for a few seconds whether a red light meant stop or go. Luckily I always figured it out in time, but the consequences could have been disastrous.
I spent my days organizing corn, dealing with angry customers, and lifting watermelons. Even without a brain injury someone working this job would end the ten hour shift being exhausted. I felt like I was yanking my brain on the end of a leash along with me. I also felt trapped in my own body, and that if my brain could just cooperate for a few seconds I could find freedom.
Soon, I went to the sports medicine doctor that I had been referred to and he referred me to a brain injury clinic that finally gave me some education on my concussion and also gave me some much needed hope.
Beginning treatment there was a blessing because at least I was working on healing. Unfortunately, the treatment was minimally effective and only lasted a month because I had to move away to college. Although I continued doing the treatment exercises on my own for a few months, they were still minimally effective for my severity of concussion.
The treatment consisted of physical activity, cognitive activity, and rest. The physical activity was often cardio intervals and the cognitive activity included things like sentence unscrambling, balance work, and puzzle solving. These were recommended to be followed by ten minutes of rest.
The also taught me about the science of concussions. They said that brains had pathways built up from use that were like highways, and when you got a concussion those highways got broken and the “traffic” in your brain got all clogged up which caused your brain to use less efficient pathways which caused the symptoms.
Goal of treatment was to use the brain a little bit at a time before many symptoms got going, and doing that built up the broken pathways in the brain and restored blood flow to those areas.
Moving forward to college time, I moved out to college, met my new roommates, and started a new life. I don’t know what I had expected for my first semester of college, but it definitely wasn’t dealing with a concussion while trying to learn to live on my own and navigate freshman college life. It felt too busy and overwhelming.
One thing I dealt with during my concussion was feeling like my brain had to refresh (like with a computer) itself every five to ten seconds. I dealt with this in class, taking it in five to ten second intervals. Every interval I had to remind myself to keep going.
I had a hard time reading the professor’s powerpoints and reading my notes. It was also such a struggle to concentrate in class amidst all the brain fog, fatigue, and overstimulation.
I would come home and either crash on my bed or struggle through some homework where I could barely read what was written in the readings and could barely comprehend it even if my visual reading skills had been working.
Next I would attempt to do some treatment exercises and be my own doctor. This usually led to me having a daily existential crisis of why I was even in college and I would grapple with my injured brain, trying to find something in there that felt normal or a little bit better. The exercises didn’t seem to be helping.
Aside from that I still made some great friends that semester of college. The awkward part? I never told them that I had a concussion. It felt too heavy to bring up to them, and I barely understood why I was in college with a concussion, I couldn’t tell them why I was here if they asked, so I never brought it up.
After three months of this I went home for Christmas Break. It was a blessed time off of school, but I had nothing but time to face my debilitating symptoms and I felt more depressed than I ever had been.
Christmas break was coming to a close and facing another semester of school felt like too much for me. It was one day that I had a raging panic attack with hyperventilation while thinking about going back to school that I decided I just couldn’t and it was time to get more help.
On the day I was supposed to start Spring classes I went back to the aforementioned concussion clinic and I was diagnosed with Post-Concussion Syndrome, the diagnoses that people receive when a concussion lasts more than three months. I was referred to a more intensive clinic that I had to wait five weeks for, and received treatment at the less intensive clinic in the meantime.
Those five weeks were some of the longest weeks of my life.
There was a lot of time spent sitting on the couch and staring at the wall. Sometimes I stared at the wall for two hours straight. I would try to not get overstimulated if possible throughout the day which meant taking breaks every time I started to get a lot of extra symptoms, but sometimes I felt like they didn’t do anything and that I got overstimulated just staring at a wall, which is quite severe.
I also hated driving in the car so I didn’t really go anywhere. I had this “fun” symptom where if I got jostled or bumped my head a little bit I would feel a rise in symptoms, as if I had gotten another concussion, even though the bump or jostling would be too soft to have caused an injury. This gave me an intense fear of riding in the car, jumping, sports, hugs, or sometimes, in my worst times, even walking. I got into the habit of walking as lightly as I could and reveled at how I had even walked normally before my injury. I must have been so tough, I thought.
I remember one day I was listening to a talk from the General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and I think it was on something along the lines of faith without works is dead. I felt so much despair when I heard that talk that I couldn’t finish it, which is not normal for me. Usually those talks are inspiring and uplifting for me. I thought, how was I supposed to have good works when I can’t go five minutes without getting overstimulated? I needed the blessings that came from performing good works, but couldn’t carry any out. I felt for a moment like I had been spiritually check mated, that I had been put in a position where I couldn’t receive blessings of healing because I was too broken to act in faith. I couldn’t even watch the whole video for crying out loud. How was I supposed to put in more effort in my life? I knew that God gives grace, but I wanted the blessings mentioned in this talk specifically, and I couldn’t bless other’s lives in a way that I felt would give me those blessings. I laid down for hours, staring at the ceiling after that.
I often felt empty inside like this. I would sit on the couch with the lowest amount of stimulation possible and try to feel something, anything, but nothing would come. Concussions come with a reduced ability to feel emotions.
Alas, the five weeks did come to a close and my time for treatment at the intensive clinic started. It was a boot camp format with two weeks of intensive treatment with six to eight hour days. The therapists were supportive and we got delicious lunches which made it enjoyable, but it was sometimes repetitive and difficult to drag my exhausted brain through the exercises.
What kept me going was the incredible fact that it was working, and I could feel it. I would be going during an exercise, about ready to give up, then I would feel a rush of blood flow to an area of my brain that had apparently been lacking in it. This happened several times. It was a miraculous experience.
I experienced leaps and bounds of improvement during those two weeks, and the neuroscientists that worked there were even impressed at how much improvement I had made. They told me that my brain was back to a normal healthy range which was remarkable.
At the end of two weeks I was given a regimen of exercises to do at home and an assignment to go to a vision therapist. I later chose to go to a therapist and chiropractor as well.
Unfortunately after those two weeks my brain was receiving blood flow in a healthy range, but I didn’t FEEL better. I still felt like something was off, but didn’t really know what it was. I went through a vision therapy program which was not very successful and I am still working on my vision skills to this day. And I went to a therapist which didn’t really help me with the “off” feeling. And I went to a chiropractor which didn’t get rid of this feeling either.
I have this feeling to this day, and don’t really know what it is. It may be depression, it may be mental health related, or it may be a bit of lingering brain fog. Along with that I have muscle spasms, tinnitus, mild reading and fixation problems left over, and I still get some symptom aggravation when I get a soft bump to the head, but it’s not nearly as bad as it was before. I can hit bumps in the car and be fine, and even some direct hits haven’t bothered me. But other than that, I am doing great in the brain injury department.
I think it’s important to mention that there is always hope. This is probably the hardest thing I have ever done and I miraculously got through it.
Not to say that all I had to do was “get through it.” That seems like an understatement compared to what I really did.
I lived it.
Every day for a year.
I experienced the lowest of lows that I didn’t even know I had the capacity to experience.
I think it’s also important to mention that I have faith that everything happens for a reason. In a talk that I love called By Divine Design by Elder Rasband it talks about how in the Book of Mormon a man named Alma was preaching to people in a city called Ammonihah. But, soon he left the city because of the wickedness of the people, but an angel appeared to him and told him to return and preach again(1).
Alma did just that and as he entered the city he was hungry and said to a man: “Will ye give to an humble servant of God something to eat?”
“And the man said unto him: I am a Nephite, and I know that thou art a holy prophet of God, for thou art the man whom an angel said in a vision: Thou shalt receive.”(2).
That man was Amulek. He is the man that would become Alma’s missionary companion and that would do much good(1).
This is an example of there being no coincidences in life. Alma did not just happen to find Amulek there, it happened by divine design.
A quote by President Thomas S. Monson says, “There is a guiding hand above all things. Often when things happen, it’s not by accident. One day, when we look back at the seeming coincidences of our lives, we will realize that perhaps they weren’t so coincidental after all.”(1).
I don’t know for sure why I had to go through this, perhaps it was to develop more compassion or patience as I thought before, or maybe it was for another reason entirely. But I believe there is a darn good reason for having to go through this. It wasn’t for nothing.
Looking back now, I think it helped me develop strength. It worked my spiritual and mental muscles to the max, and, it seemed, to the breaking point, and now they are healed and stronger.
If I could give myself a message back then it would be that you can cry and crying is worth it.
If you are experiencing or have experienced a brain injury I would love to connect with you so we can compare stories!
Strobing red and blue lights flash all around me. Loud dancing music echoes off the brick walls. Exhausted from the night of dancing, I stop and rest for a moment in the middle of a crowd of sweaty teenagers. Everything seems normal. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see a girl who’s head is speeding towards me at an unusually fast pace. She’s not in line to hit me, I thought. I don’t need to move. Boy, was I wrong.
What she was doing to achieve this kind of velocity I’ll never be completely sure of, but as far as my understanding goes she was either doing a back handspring, or threw her head back super hard while dancing or laughing.
Either way, amidst all the chaos and my exhaustion, she managed to hit my left eye with the back of her head. Stumbling back in the crowd, I couldn’t see anything for several seconds, I don’t know if that’s because my eyes were closed, or because my vision blacked out. When I recovered I had the sense that something had been hurt, and I suspected immediately that I might have a concussion, but I brushed the suspicion off at first, not wanting to face the implications of having a concussion.
I immediately went back to dancing, hoping that no one had seen me get hurt. Then I stopped, because I was worried that jumping itself might aggravate a possible concussion.
I first noticed evidence of something being wrong when I tried to walk and my body didn’t respond for a couple of seconds. Then, after trying harder, I got my body to initiate walking. It was a confusing couple of seconds. I was doing everything I normally did to start walking, but nothing in my body moved. Luckily, this phenomenon didn’t occur again.
After thinking for a while and stalling for time by lightly dancing (no jumping) I came to the decision of going to the bathroom to see what my face looked like in the mirror. As I reached the bathroom mirror and inspected my left eye I saw some minor redness above and below it, but nothing serious. I then got some ice from a kind Teacher’s Assistant and sat out the rest of the dance.
My mind was reeling while waiting for the dance to end. I had taken an emergency medical responder class, I should know the symptoms of a concussion, but the only things that came to mind were nausea and tinnitus, neither of which I had. In addition to that, I couldn’t stop overthinking whether you are supposed to put ice on your eye.
As the night wore on we transitioned to the after party of games and a movie where I noticed some confusion, brain fog, and had the overarching sense of everything being harder. I didn’t want to accept these symptoms though, because I liked to consider myself invincible. It took several hours of constant symptoms for me to accept that I probably had a concussion.
When I got home late that night I tentatively told my mom that I thought I had a concussion. I asked her if I should go to the doctor and she said no because she didn’t think it was that severe. That was a Saturday night. The next week happened to be the last week of school filled with all the senior activities that I longed to go to. The pro that I saw of not going to the doctor was that he couldn’t tell me that I couldn’t attend any of my senior activities. Similarly, the con of not going to the doctor was that he couldn’t tell me that I couldn’t attend any of my senior activities, which in hindsight, should have been abstained from.
The biggest set back was going to a rollercoaster park. Riding rollercoasters + a concussion = an unhealthy time. I’m pretty sure I got at least one more concussion on those rollercoasters since it’s easier to get another concussion when you already have one. I was also risking a lot by going on those rollercoasters because there is something called second-impact syndrome where you get a hit-even a soft one-after your concussion and it can cause your brain to rapidly swell and your breathing to stop, and it puts you in the emergency room if you even get that far before you pass away.
Doctors don’t know why some people get second-impact syndrome and some people don’t, but I was in the lucky category of not getting it.
The loud noises, jarring rollercoasters, and long, crowded walks left me dreadfully overstimulated and fearing for my life. This experience is why I will never ride a rollercoaster again. That being said, I did survive the day, but met my ride home being so exhausted that I was unable to speak even if I wanted to. Unfortunately, not speaking is a typical state for me so my ride (my dad) didn’t think anything of it. I wanted to scream that something was wrong in my head, but I couldn’t get any words out. I felt trapped.
The next few days were exhausting, but not rollercoaster riding, fearing for your life exhausting. Soon, came my high school graduation. To be short, it felt like a fever dream. I was out of it, had difficulty comprehending conversations, and was worried I was exacerbating my symptoms the entire time. Looking back on those pictures I look slightly pained and have a small red bruise just below my left eyebrow.
In general, what was worse, I felt like with every previously normal thing I tried to do after getting a concussion, I discovered a new deficit in my functioning. I felt like I was exploring my brain in a way I never had before, and not in a comfortable way. More like in a depressing and excruciating way. Try reading? My eyes couldn’t follow the words and frequently skipped. What about watching a movie? I was exhausted and got pressure in my head and brain fog. There was a similar story with every activity I did. I also had a strange sense of physical areas in my brain being activated differently and it was a constant reminder of my brain not working properly. I couldn’t even get my mind off the symptoms long enough to fully comprehend how bad they were.
I will leave this entry here since I don’t want it to be too long. In part 2 I will talk more in depth about my symptoms and what life was like with them. I hope this helps some people in putting words to what they may be experiencing, because I know I felt like I couldn’t put the proper words to it when I was experiencing it.
Thank you for reading this far. This has been a very cathartic experience for me and I feel more whole after writing this. I guess a part of me was still emotionally broken from this experience even after 3 years and writing it has helped me work through some of it.
If you want to see more content like this feel free to follow along!
