"If You Could Read My Mind, What a Tale My Thoughts Would Tell" (56th Post)

Back to the saga of my relationship with Rick (Dear Reader, see previous post - “How Did He Know to Ask.) 

The title of this post is a lyric from a song by writer and musician Gordon Lightfoot. This lyric kept playing inside my head during Rick’s visit. Sadly, our long-awaited and deeply anticipated reunion had not gone as either of us had planned. Our idyllic expectations had been disrupted and diverted by my undiagnosed PTSD and TBI-damaged executive functions. 

After my initial response to Rick’s “pull-the-rug-out-from-under-me” question, I said no more. I had been in no frame of mind for, or, even wanted a discussion of something that had eluded me. Instead of answers to his question, I only had yet another blasted puzzle for me to solve. In that moment, I had honestly thought I had stopped breathing, and that my heart had stopped beating. Only stillness and silence surrounded us. 

After I had answered Rick’s question he had not pressed for additional answers or had not presented more questions. He had not criticized me or told me he had wanted no part of our relationship. Rick had simply enfolded me in his arms. He had used a calm, soft voice and had told me how sorry he had been that I had been “that way.” I had responded to his kind words by tightly holding onto him. I had SIGHED deeply as I had felt relieved and grateful he had turned out NOT to be one of “those guys.” Instead, he had been “that guy.” He had known how toxic and predatory “those guys” could be. As we lay enfolded in each other’s arms, I felt surreal, overwhelmed, and emotionally exhausted. We had both forsaken further conversations. Somehow, we had managed to just fall asleep. Today, as best I can remember, there had been no further discussion of my “physical puzzle.” Or, maybe my memory refused to document any further pursuit of this “puzzle.” Who knows - certainly not me. Sigh. 

In addition to the PTSD caused by abuses I experienced while in catholic school and church, the undiagnosed TBI had also challenged our budding relationship. In order to be in love, one needs to have an open heart and be willing to take a risk or a chance on love. However, love by herself cannot sustain a relationship. To both grow and maintain a love-fueled relationship requires the involvement of the mind and spirit. Creating and expanding a healthy relationship requires adult executive functions and emotional management skills. Actively functional relationships bring to the table love, honest and open communication, abilities to set boundaries, self-identity, and awareness, a set of values, conflict management, and other adult life skills. Due to the PTSD and TBI, I had yet to develop many of these skills

My brain damage had thwarted my desire to build and sustain a loving functional relationship with Rick. Another challenge I had faced, had been some dysfunctional legacies programmed by my family. And, there had also been developmental delays due to the TBI damage to my self identity-and self-perception. All these challenges had not set me up for a “happily ever after life.” Even having one of these issues would be difficult, yet I had to deal with 3 of them.

Due to my forced involvement in catholicism, I had not discovered the normal outside world, until I had started eleventh grade in public school. That change made it possible now to interact with the secular world. And in the secular world, I had then lived a life of constant discovery, which is a good and normal process. YAY! However, discovery requires integration in order to have meaning and function in one’s life. 

In contrast to me, Rick had experienced the luxury of a functional family and a longer more normal period of discovery and integration. When I met Rick, I had only had 2 years of discovery and integration behind me. (Tragically, I needed another 8 years to expand my world and also needed the assistance of therapy for PTSD and brain damage rehabilitation. 

During our visit, Rick asked me for a deeper emotional commitment to our relationship. Through our conversations on this matter, it had become clear to me, Rick was someone who knew what he wanted to accomplish in life. And, just as important, he had a flexible plan accompanied by the necessary skills to accomplish his desires. However, for this writer, Dear Reader, deep inside me I had known what I wanted in life. But, due to the brain damage, I was unable to articulate and execute any of my plans by myself. Many year’s later a neuropsychologist said to me “You cannot formulate your thoughts or translate your thoughts into action due to the brain damage.” (My whole recovery from brain damage has many times included this thought - I coulda used this information many years ago!!!)

Relationship commitment needs specific words, feelings/emotions, and behaviors to sustain itself. I had been terrified and clueless as to how to reveal and explain all my broken parts to Rick, which composed the ‘puzzle of me.” The only solution my damaged brain and my broken PTSD heart had fathomed had been to hide my pain, confusion, and helplessness, and pretend all had been well. Unfortunately, those solutions only resulted in words or behaviors that had sent mixed or no clear messages at all to Rick. And worse yet, I had no clue or idea how to fight for our relationship, as I had never seen or experienced that in my family of origin. This is just a guess due to my TBI anosognosia - at that point in time, our relationship may have survived due to Rick’s good heart, generosity of spirit, tenacity, and patience. 

All too soon for me, Rick’s visit had come to an end. The hour had come for him to leave Massachusetts and return to his home in Virginia. I had been beyond relieved we had agreed to continue as a couple in love. I had been sad to say to him ‘farewell for now.” I had started to miss him as he had driven away. As I had slowly walked into my dormitory, I had recalled over the weekend the awful memory of some of my “puzzle pieces” being on display. In those moments I comprehended how those words and 

Page 3

 

actions had concerned and puzzled him. However, I quickly realized the impact of the “puzzle pieces” had not ended our relationship. I had then felt a thrill of SUCCESS! 

I felt I had somehow succeeded in acting as if all had been well in spite of the unsolved puzzle of me. I also felt safe from any further disruptions to our committed relationship as we had made it through the visit and still loved each other. In that moment of JOY, I had forgotten though, about the existence of the Vietnam War.