Mindless retreat

Sitting at the back of the bus on September 24, 2015 reading “The World Has Changed:  Conversations with Alice Walker,” little did I know that my mine was about to in significant ways.   I saw nothing and it all happened so quickly.   Passengers informed me after impact that my head hit hard against the exit barrier as the driver stopped suddenly to avert collision with a truck.  It is so difficult to explain “foggy brain” and the feeling of “not being right.”  

It all started so slowly; the erosion piece-by-piece of a simple and uncomplicated life filled with interesting activities and people – Saturday morning breakfasts on “the drive” with friends, volunteering as Strata Council President, walking 185 stairs from the street entrance to the office doors upon arrival, noon hour jaunts in a vibrant downtown core, participating with my writing group and book club, attending weekly Weight Watchers meetings, date nights with my darling, and a dedicated 90 minute morning practice of reading and sharing thoughts in a trusted journal.  

 I saw nothing and it all happened so quickly.

One by one, each week, something left my life until I realized that all my personal time was spent recovering from one day in the office till the next.  Evenings and weekends were spent in seclusion due to the challenges of noise, irritability, crowds and light.  I struggled to hide my diminished abilities and raw emotions.  Once I could no longer work I had to surrender fully to acknowledging the situation and in April of this year I transitioned from sick leave to long-term disability benefits.  I hate the label and stigma of being on LTD.  Learning to accept my situation is ongoing and not easy.  Each week I meet with a Clinical Psychologist as I learn to thrive within my newfound limitations.

As I continue to recover from post-concussion syndrome and whiplash injuries, I find myself remaining on a retreat in my own home and neighbourhood.  Unlike the many I have participated in where you search for mindfulness, and think of the present in appreciation, this one finds me journeying into mindlessness where it is best to remain empty-headed so not to provoke yet another headache.

Resting the brain in order for it to restore and heal is an extremely hard task.  I am encouraged to be in nature, meditate, take long hot baths, sit quiet in soft light while doing a home-rehab program, all with the intention to gradually return cognitive, physical and social activities into routine.  There is little joy as head pain dominates.  Concussions and their consequences are nasty business.

As the days drift you can’t help but feel adrift.

It is very difficult to have so much time and not the energy, focus, or ability to engage in life’s many offerings. I am learning once again that life is full of messy circumstances which encourage patience and understanding from us and others.  In my personal haven I complete a ritual of silence, stillness, and rehabilitation aimed at reconnecting to wellness.

One of the most frustrating elements of concussion recovery is how fast the days pass when you do nothing and have nothing to show for them. As the days drift you can’t help but feel adrift.  I feel worn out by living with an intense tension of not knowing when my beloved life will come back.