I have days when things get bad. When too much sensory input collides with my still-healing and forever-damaged brain. I hate these – those – days. I don’t hate it during them, though; I don’t anything them because I don’t feel anything about anything on those days; it’s peaceful, quiet, to feel nothing other than momentary agitation when I’m required to convey some sort of response about some matter when I actually do interact on those days.
The following days, though, those suck. Vulnerability. Anger. Terror. Defensiveness. Self-preservation. Survive, just one more day. I don’t really like the days that follow.
Depression is fairly common following a brain injury, though it’s not always noticed by clinicians. I have it, though none of my clinicians have thought to take much notice of it. I’m generally a happy person, so why mess with that equilibrium, right?
Rant over. I’ll write a post with some stuff to back things up. Tomorrow.