FREE RANGE CONSCIOUSNESS

MAN... PACKING A SIGNAL FLARE WOULD HAVE BEEN A GOOD IDEA

 I am more than east of where I should be... and that is not being modest about where it is I am, but I am further off than I have been in quite some time.  In fact, it reminds me of the early days of my injury, when I was unaware of what was happening to me and the long degradation of my faculties to the moment I knew what was going on with me whilst I lived in mid-Michigan.  Right now, I am trying to decide if this is actually 'a thing' or is this 'A THING'.  For instance...

No, I do not do Facebook much at all.  That is not intentional, but it is something of my character. My modest daily comings-and-goings do not warrant announcing to everyone who is being forced to listen.  Additionally, the people who really know of me, understand that not only is not hearing from me via social media is normal and therefore intentional.  What makes it normal is my desire to simply "be" and that makes it intentional.  I do not need to tell everyone about my comings and goings, and the only person that I would feel comfortable telling would be a quality therapist! This is not to say that I do not care about anyone else and how my life would affect their's, but that is not nor has been my reality.  I am forced to be more social than my character once saw fit, which is of course, ironic.  I never saw myself speaking to so many people and dealing with so many identities as someone with a TBI, but there you go.  The people here in Omaha are nice and they really affect a thoughtful pose when I have encountered a native.  That has gone a long way to affecting my rationale for remaining here, even as far as to have planned for my eventual internment (which is something that was done OVER A YEAR AGO... MAYBE TWO and has NO BEARING on today's feelings) and memorial services.

Adulting has been very difficult for me recently.  I am struggling with the weight of the mundane, along with fatigue from physical exertion (which also includes mental exertion, as even a malfunctioning brain demands at least 1/5 of the body's energy demands) leaving me worn out.  That is what journaling was supposed to be for me, a place where I get to "off-load" some of the thoughts that were taking up space in my head, and though I know I have said this before, hopefully, I mean it this time... I HAVE TO get this nonsense in order.  Back in the day, I had a Nine Inch Nails tee-shirt (might still have it buried somewhere) with the print saying, over and again, "Can't Stop This Scratching Inside My Head".  No surprise that I am thinking of it, and even as I wonder if that is a misquote, it remains that I cannot stop the scratching that is going on inside of mine.

Between missing appointments (medical appointments are of the highest priority) and having problems with my daily tasks, my concern is that I am at "the end of the beginning".  After all, I have been essentially on my own with this condition for nearly 20 years, and eventually, the time would come where being able to negotiate the world-at-large (much less the world where I live) would start to overwhelm me.

So that is why the Churchillian quote was used for this section.  The true start of my dealing with TBI has begun.  Nothing was over when I was with Mookie Dee, as the previous pages of my journal attest.  I have made a big leap and gone from where I was, a "bumbling, stumbling, rumbling..." human being who could go all the way to nowhere, to someone who has gone (and yeah, still strives to go further) to where their dreams took them.  If there were any regrets, I guess I that there would have been tighter Quality Control on what passed for my dreams... or at least on the blueprint that I followed to achieve them!