From Survival to Healing: Living with PTSD After a Traumatic Brain Injury
by BrainInjuryWise
| PTSD: My Story Project #017
Trigger warning
Living with PTSD after a traumatic brain injury wasn’t something I ever expected. Like a lot of people, I believed PTSD was something veterans dealt with coming back from seeing unseeable things in war zones. “Must be rough,” I thought. I heard it called “Shell Shock” before, or the anguish of firing automatic rifles into bodies, discharging shell casings as they went. These narrow understandings made me woefully unprepared for the PTSD I would have to recognize and endure in my own life, even without ever stepping into a ‘war zone’.
I have experienced many traumas in my life, but I never really thought of it that way. I was sexually abused once as a child, later my boyfriend at the time was killed in front of my eyes in a boating accident, my aunt and uncle were involved in a murder-suicide, and I have had a few friends, relatives, and co-workers die during my lifetime. As I write this, I feel a welling of something in my chest. When young, as these events occurred, I soldiered through. Never gave them much conscious thought. I compartmentalized like it was an Olympic event. I felt I had adeptly passed through all these problems and went on to live a very full life with marriage, children, education, career, athletics, etc…
Every now and then, something would trigger a certain memory, but that was quickly replaced with the next distraction. It wasn’t until after I had a career-ending brain injury resulting from the life-changing car accident that my ‘compartments’ started to leak. I was presented with a true opportunity to get to know PTSD. Inside and out. That’s when I became a soldier – living with PTSD after a traumatic brain injury, whether I understood it or not.
Traumatic Stress
I was hit broadside by another car right where I was sitting as the driver. My husband sat next to me in the passenger seat. Apparently (I can’t recall it), my head smashed against the window and then jerked the other direction, resulting in contrecoup. Our car had been pushed across two lanes, up over a curb, and onto someone else’s lawn by a driver who had lost control on the first icy day of the season. I remember getting out of my car and walking over to the other driver to yell at him, but nothing came out of my mouth. I couldn’t speak. An older gentleman told me I had had a head injury and I should go sit down.
Then I remember firemen sitting inside my car with me, draping me with a very shiny, silvery blanket as we waited for the ambulance to arrive. Once they did, I was moved to a spinal board. In the ambulance, an EMT trainee asked me for my health card. What?? I’m strapped to a board. Bless him, I thought. He was trying so hard, but a little misguided. I had no idea where my health card was. I remember crying.
Unpacking trauma I didn’t know I had
Long story short, I had (to the tune of 12 days of Christmas), 10 years of recovery, 9 types of therapies, 4 kinds of medication, 3 MRI and CT scans, 2 traumatic brain injury (TBI) diagnoses, and ONE year in bed!! Joking aside, this was my accident experience. Does it sound like a traumatic experience to you? It didn’t to me. I thought I would just get up, do some therapies, and get on with my life like I had always done before. Like I had practiced and conditioned myself to do. But this time was different.
As my body physically healed, my psychological self was screaming. It was like all the traumas I had had before had escaped from their cages at the zoo and were running amok in my head. I couldn’t tame my mind like I always had. This is where my learning began – the beginning of living with PTSD after a traumatic brain injury without fully understanding what that even meant.
Living with PTSD after a traumatic brain injury
My PTSD felt like I had reached a trauma tipping point in my life, and my brain was no longer able to compartmentalize, contain, and forget anymore. My cup was running over. The bathwater was pouring onto the floor. It was so funny, I never thought of my car accident as traumatic. I thought it was ‘only a car accident’.
Even though I had been diagnosed with a TRAUMATIC brain injury, that did not help me realize what I was going through. I was disjointed. Even when I had experienced the most significant altering event in my life, I was mystified when PTSD symptoms started. I didn’t realize at the time that the trauma of my car accident had triggered other unhealed trauma, and I was awash. Yet I couldn’t put it all together and understand why and what was happening to me. Denial? Maybe. Lack of information? Maybe. Unpreparedness? Likely.
So, my PTSD first started with a fear of watching anything related to trauma in the newspapers or on TV. I insulated myself with well-known, innocuous TV shows I knew well and I know would not shock me. My brain was afraid of having to deal with any more trauma. Like it didn’t want a second more. So, it was creating an anxiety to steer my behaviour away from anything threatening. If my friends started telling me a story and I sensed it was veering into potentially shocking/traumatic territory, I would abruptly leave or tell them to stop talking. Before I had regained my ability to read again, I would ask my husband to read me the newspaper, but only the good stories. Everyone in my family knew to steer clear of certain topics when visiting.
The unspoken reality of living with PTSD after a traumatic brain injury
The next PTSD symptom of the many I have had, but by far the most distressing, was experiencing intrusive thoughts. It was like my brain would try to think of the most terrifying or traumatic situation, so it wouldn’t be surprised by any experience I might have in real life. Like getting out ahead of any potential trauma. It was adaptive in a way. I would be sitting there minding my own business, and all of a sudden, I would have graphic imagery of torture and death scenes that would horrify Quentin Tarantino. I thought OMG, why am I thinking that???
So, I would try to push the vision out of my mind, but even that wouldn’t work. It would always come back 20 times more horrific. And it wouldn’t go away. I wondered what to do. Do I tell someone I am thinking of graphic horror scenes? Would they think I’m insane and lock me up?? (If you want to know what scenes I was thinking of, please ask me and I will tell you). Spoiler alert: I worked up my nerve to tell my doctor, my husband, and my psychologist.
From survival to healing
My recipe for healing has had many different ingredients. They include (medication, which I hated and did not continue with), and an assessment by a psychiatrist, but the most helpful of all were the following:
- Learning to give myself the gift of less self-judgement, and the grace and latitude to stop wrestling with every emotion that arises.
- Learning to understand the integrative nature of my traumatic experiences and honoring them as part of who I am, not as something to get rid of
- Over time, I have learned what was happening to me, and that it happens to others
- Understanding that my thoughts were my brain trying to get out ahead of any further trauma, and that, in this context, really made sense
- Understanding that my intrusive thoughts were like one of those finger-traps, the more you wrestle to free your fingers, the more the traps tighten
- Learning that the true path to freedom is relaxing and releasing, allowing the intrusions to be there, and taking a curious approach rather than disgust with myself for having them in the first place
- Knowing that PTSD looks different for everyone and that someone who has nightmares may have the same distress I experienced with my day-mares
- Knowing the most likely time the intrusions will return is when I am overwhelmed or very tired so I try to take really good care of myself and cut myself a lot of slack
- Lastly, I have befriended PTSD as part of me and I appreciate what it has taught me. It’s not gone forever and that is ok. It is something that shows up now and again. But now, instead of panicking when it bursts through the front door, I just take notice. I don’t make a big deal, and let it waft out the back door when it’s ready, and I continue with what I was doing. I now think of PTSD as a warning, a sign that I need to pay attention to something…my body is giving me a signal. And this, I’ve come to understand, is what living with PTSD after a traumatic brain injury really looks like: it’s not a linear path, but it is one filled with growth, grace, and acceptance.
Finding peace while living with PTSD after a traumatic brain injury
I decided to participate in PTSD: My Story Project because I lived with the anguish and shame of PTSD without knowing what I was dealing with. My hope is to talk about it more in an effort to normalize it. To reduce its stigma, so others may feel better knowing they are not alone in their experience of it. Awareness is the most important step forward.
I know in my life I may have more trauma. Life is full of it. But the way I can move forward is to think of it as a companion. My body at first was really trying to do things to limit further trauma. AT ALL COST. But it is unavoidable. I feel that I’ve had enough experience with stopping, recognizing it, allowing emotion, and processing. That I’m ready to experience negative events again without causing a full shutdown of the motherboard.
Trauma is not easy for anyone, but when you have had your share and your body says ENOUGH… It is time to LISTEN TO WHAT YOUR BODY IS TELLING YOU. And do what you need to do to regroup. The best advice I got was from my shampoo bottle. When I feel PTSD symptoms rearing up, I shampoo – recognize feelings and allow them in my space. Then I rinse – stop, process, take inventory of my current overwhelm, care for myself, and repeat as needed.
And you know what? I cannot remember the last time I had an intrusive thought or any panic that it caused. They are me and I am them. I am a whole being and the sum of many parts. I am OK. And I am loveable. And I now feel at peace with living with PTSD after a traumatic brain injury – not as something to fix, but as something to understand, integrate, and move forward with.
BrainInjuryWise
@braininjurywise continues to rehabilitate injuries sustained in a car accident 11 years ago, including a career-ending brain injury. This situation has been very difficult, but it is also an opportunity for self-reflection and assimilation of new ways of living while honoring the old. Living life to the fullest has a different definition now, but the re-adjusted goal nonetheless. @braininjurywise writes as a way to process “life” and encourages any questions or discussion. You can find BrainInjuryWise on Instagram.
Read more real-life stories from trauma survivors here: ‘PTSD: My Story Project‘.
Do you have experience with PTSD, or do you take care of / live with someone who has? Would you like to share your story in a guest blog post?
Aim
I’m not an expert or a health professional, so the aim of this project isn’t to offer professional advice. Neither is it to pity those who experience PTSD. That’s not what I want. My aim is to raise awareness of PTSD. By sharing your story, you can inspire and empower others. You can highlight the methods that helped you. This way, you can encourage others to reach out for help.
And it may help you as well. Perhaps it’s something you feel like you’re not able to talk about within your closest circle and would like to connect with others in a similar situation. It’s nothing more than bearing an untold story inside you. The fact is that our society still lacks an understanding of mental health. Therefore, I’ve decided to share my story and invite others to join me in this project and write a blog post about their experience. By working together, we can help destigmatise mental health problems and promote well-being.
To be featured
If you would like to join in and share your story on my blog but don’t have the experience of writing a blog post, this isn’t a problem. You can still contact me, and I’d be happy to assist you with the writing. And you can use a pseudonym if you wish to stay anonymous. You can share as much of your story as you want in a way you feel comfortable with.
The only thing I ask is that you mention ‘PTSD: My story project’ in your post and briefly state why you have chosen to take part in it. You will be allowed to approve the post before publishing it, should it be edited.
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