Miracle of Listening & Joy of Being Heard

We all have basic needs to be met as human beings.  One need is to be heard, understood.  For someone to say, "I get you" or at the very least, "I accept you for who you are AND love you anyway."  When we've made this connection with someone, a brain injury can shake the sturdiest foundation in any relationship.  Change happens to us TBIer's in subtle or obvious ways.  Choice was not an option given to us.  Acceptance for us or those touched by our lives doesn't always follow as soon as we'd like for various reasons.  Even, especially, with siblings.

October 28th was the 4 year anniversary of my Life altering car accident and subsequent trip down Brain Injury Lane.  Some days it feels like yesterday.  Today it feels like a lifetime ago.  My needs have changed over the last four years, but the desire for being understood and accepted remains the same.

A miracle happened this week.  My oldest brother finally listened and heard me.  I know he did because he not only muted the TV, he shared his thoughts and feelings.  YES!  MIRACLE!  Gratitude overfloweth my cup.

Acknowledging the changes in me are not simply procrastination or irresponsible money management, but part of the ever changing re-wiring process means the world to me.  Whew!  Irresponsible was never a Kristy trait.  Uber responsible yes...to the point of being anal.  To be seen as irresponsible, as if I didn't care, was a tight fist clenching my heart.  But that's the impression my brother had of me....  Kristy is being irresponsible.  I can fix that with some tough love...Until now.  The fist finally let go allowing me to breathe again.  I feel so much lighter and that ache in my heart is also gone.

Why did it take so long for him to listen and hear me?  His honest answer filled me with all sorts of emotions I'm still sorting through.  He didn't want to admit that the brain injury negatively impacted my life....family motto...ignore it and it will go away or better yet...didn't really happen.  That's not the reality I live in, but was easier on him emotionally to duck his head in the sand.  I get that and appreciate his honesty.  It took living with me to open his eyes to my challenges, "Ya know, your biggest fault is that you always act like you've got it together and can handle anything.  I didn't see past the facade until you came to live with us, but don't worry...I can teach you."   Ahh brotherly bravado.  Now may I tell you your faults dear brother? Yep, didn't think so.  

This is not the first time I've been accused of acting like I have my life in control.  A facade?  That feels like a pre-meditated cover job.  I don't purposely try to hide my deficits. I simply don't want them to define me or have people treat me differently.  I can admit I haven't found a balance yet between the brave face I show the world and allowing the vulnerability of showing my wounds.  When I initially shared my deficits with my brother I got the (I'm sure you've heard this before if you know TBI), "Now, I don't want to hear you talking like that.  You're giving yourself limitations by saying you have deficits.  You can do anything you put your mind to.  Think positive and things will change."  Yes and no. (Internal scream) HELLO BIOCHEMICAL ALTERATION isn't simply mind over matter.

I've gotten this far by walking through it day by day with a positive, can do attitude and a smile on my face.  Most days.  I am Pollyanna.  That hasn't changed.  Not that depression doesn't set in, it does, but I rely on my mad feline skills of landing on my feet.  That and silver linings pull me through.  In my darkest moments something happens to turn it around.  Anything else would be giving up...right?  

So, I am being positive.  Right? I'm also being realistic by finally admitting I lack the ability to do things I once took for granted.  By denying my statements, you discount all I've overcome by accepting my differentness.  I'm not saying I will never be able to do something.  I'm saying right now those skills are out of my grasp. Telling me I can do anything I set my mind to, when I cannot, is... whatever is beyond frustrating. (He heard this and understood!)

When you have a brain injury close family and friends don't like to say anything to hurt your feelings or make you think you can't do anything.  They walk on If Then eggshells as do we.  Nobody wants to admit to changes or voice concerns... If I agree/admit she can't do this, Then it might make it true.  Thanks, but none of us have that much power.  Please just stomp the damned eggshells!  Speak the truth with Love as your intention.  We all have our own truth.  By sharing our truths, it sets us all free.  Be honest with yourself and me.  I'll gift you with the same respect.

Communication is essential.  Isn't the core of love and compassion... truth and honesty?   It is to me.  It's not always pretty.  It doesn't need to be.  If you fear I can't handle it, talk me through it, hold my hand, choose your words carefully with love, compassion and be there to help me understand....Or a box of tissues and a hug.  Didn't the accident already prove I'm not easily broken?   

Weeds of trepidation fill both sides of this communication fence.  I know I'm different.  You know I'm different.  Thanks brother for getting on the same page.  

Telling me about your observations is not going to block my recovery, but help me move forward.  Sometimes what you see isn't obvious to me like it once was...tell me.  I need to know.  This isn't an open license to bash me (or your loved one).  Compassionate communication coming from a place of LOVE will make it okay. 

Dearest brother, you are proof miracles happen.  Thank you for finally taking my hand to walk through this by my side, not in front or behind me. We'll pull each other through while getting our needs met. We are family and I love you.