Prepping for Oz (26th Post)

Summer was coming to a close. My job in Wonderland would soon transition from full to

part-time to accommodate my entry into 11th grade. I was super excited to soon

become a resident in “The Merry Old Land of OZ”…a.k.a public high school. (See

previous posts). My life was beginning to feel as if my life was finally going somewhere.

Where I was going I had not a clue or even a vision. This was due to another

undiagnosed TBI symptom. I had a “Wrinkle In Time.” Passage of time was tricky for

me. All events, historical or current, always felt like they had occurred recently. I found

the concept of the future baffling and elusive. In addition, my friends were planning for their

futures. I felt like I did not have a bridge inside me to cross into the future.

However, thanks to the “Villagers” of my Wonderland, I learned if I combined my

desperation skills, the kindness of strangers, and the magical design of an organization, I

could flourish. I had put together a “brain” to deal with the confounding puzzle of me. I

believed OZ, like Wonderland, was another organization that could help me navigate

through the unsolved puzzle of me. My certainty was partially based on my first visit to

a public school, now many months ago, to explore OZ During that visit, I immediately

observed significant differences between the catholic school I had been attending and

the public school of OZ. In Catholic school, the language and behaviors of the nuns

were cloaked in the words: don’t, can’t, shame, restriction, and control. At Oz, the

language and behaviors of the teachers were cloaked in the words: encouragement,

empathy, and freedom. And in the classrooms of OZ, the teachers didn’t tell the

students who to be. Instead, they asked them to find out who they could be. The

teachers in OZ were not dressed in strange-looking navy blue gowns and bizarre

headdresses which hide their hair. The teachers wore everyday clothing. Unlike the

nuns, the teachers have not shuttered away in convents. They reside in the surrounding

neighborhoods and actually knew the local communities. OZ appeared startlingly safe to

me - no physical violence or emotional abuse. OZ, of course, had school rules and

regulations, however, they focused on order not tyrannical control. I concluded, that due to

all these differences, OZ exuded the kindness of strangers; a concept both useful and

very important to me.

OZ had other perks to delight and excite. Instead of drab uniforms, I could choose my

own attire. This freedom did give me pause though. In addition to being told by others, I

recognized I needed excessive time to make a decision. What I did not know was this

tendency was a symptom of TBI. Part of the damage from my 2 head wounds was

“stretched axioms.” That damage meant there would be delays in my brain’s ability to

transmit messages, (thoughts), from one neuron to the next and so on. Consequently,

behavior-wise, it would take me 4 times longer to complete any task requiring executive

brain functions than people with non- damaged frontal lobes of their brain. In preparing

for OZ, I realized making decisions about my daily attire could take hours. However, I

felt it was worth the time and effort. I also knew the task might induce utter exhaustion.

If that happened I would abandon the goal and wear an outfit from the previous day.

One astonishing and wonderful perk of OZ was gym class. In Catholic school, during

gym class students only learned how to march like they were in the military. Don’t ask I

have not a clue why. In OZ, gym class was filled with many varied sports for girls to

participate in. What an exotic and unique experience that was for me. A whole new

world. And bonus - no monotonous marching.

Unfortunately, just like Dorothy in her OZ, for me in my OZ, there was a tornado

upending my life. As one grows in physical years, so does the complexity of life. As the

first day of school in OZ grew closer and closer, my feelings of excitement and delight

started to be constantly haunted by anxieties and fears. Some aspects of my unsolved

puzzle of me were becoming more problematic. And new troublesome flies in the

ointment were making an appearance. My disturbing nocturnal behaviors now included

night terrors. I felt even more socially clueless from TBI's inability to read social cues. I

was surprised by both positive and negative comments people stated to me concerning

my TBI-induced behaviors and personality. My response to their comments was to

wonder to myself “this does not sound like me at all - how can they see that or why

would they say that?” Due to TBI Anosognosia, I often could not grasp what prompted

their positive or negative comments. And worse I did not know how to respond back.

Time was passing, however, my math, spelling, and pronunciation skills showed no

improvement. My anger and rage were getting harder to control. My low frustration

tolerance won out too many times. Anxiety was now bathing my body in sweat. I rarely

could compose a plan. Impulse control was meddling in a lot. My startle response grew

worse.

I felt immense despair that my unsolved puzzle of me was raining on my parade of

excitement and anticipation. I knew teenagers had hormonal fluctuations, growing

pains, and angst. However, so many of my challenges manifested and existed before I

entered my teenage years. And the worst part was I did to have the words to explain to

anyone what was happening inside me. Passive suicidal ideation was almost daily for

me. (If Dear Reader, you ever experience that please get help.) Panic yelled at me to

create/find additional desperation skills. That mission became my primary focus. I felt so

alone, so very alone. I felt like I did not fit in anywhere. Or as Alice said in her

Wonderland, “It takes all the running you can do to keep in the same place.” “If you want

to get somewhere else you must run at least twice as fast as that.”

I felt like I was certainly running “twice as fast as that. Then one day I was looking at all

the names on my Go-To-List I used in Wonderland. I immediately wished I could take all

those people with me to Oz. AHA! I realized on my first day at OZ, I could use this template

to create a Go-To-List at OZ!!! I could create another Village to help me navigate my last

2 years of high school. I reminisced about my experiences in Wonderland. Doing so

helped me find my courage, my heart, and my brain. Unlike Dorothy, I might never find a

way to go home or even find a “home” - I might never solve the puzzle of me. However,

my Go-To-Village worked for me in Wonderland. I had faith and was determined to

create a workable Go-To-Village in OZ. And so I did.