Living the Life (54th Post)

My summer with Rick had come to an end. Autumn had arrived, and I left my home in Virginia to attend college in Massachusetts. I was convinced that the physical distance between Rick and me would not adversely impact our growing relationship as I felt we had a secure bond between us. 

It was the early ’70s, one’s hand glued to cell phones, Zoom, Skype etc. had not yet been invented to help lessen the distance of physical separations. At that time, I had discovered and learned I liked the art of writing letters. And, as a going away gift Rick had bought each of us tape recorders. Consequently, in addition to pen and paper, we had been able to send tapes in which we shared our voices and discussed our sagas and feelings for each other. To this day, I am still a fan of utilizing the US Postal Service to send letters, bills, occasion cards, and packages. In 2016, a politician appeared who threatened the existence of the Postal System. During that time, I had discussed this issue with my friend Jan. She said to me “People’s lives travel through the mail - when you sabotage the post office there are serious consequences for those lives.” In addition to postal correspondence, there had been a pay phone on each floor of my dormitory, Rick had planned to come visit me, and I had planned, and had looked forward to seeing him when I returned home from college during the winter break.

Even though Rick and I had this strong bond and I was falling in love with him, there were parts of me I had kept hidden from him and others. These aspects were my undiagnosed TBI and PTSD symptoms. These symptoms haunted my life. I was fully aware of these ghosts. I found them to be chaotic phantoms who meddled with my thoughts, feelings, and behaviors…and not in a good way. (Dear Reader, see early and previous posts). For me, the worst impact was the symptoms that resulted in the loss of friends. I was very concerned I would lose Rick. The other side of this coin had been that TBI diminished my ability to find words to explain the symptoms - and their impact - to myself and others. I constantly dreaded Rick would see those ghostly parts of myself. I had been unable to give a voice to the crushing pain inside me, so I could not tell him what I had been struggling with. 

As I had addressed in previous posts, Rick lived in a larger and more active world than I. When with Rick I had not known my damaged brain was constantly overstimulated, my executive functions on mute, and I had suppressed any overwhelming emotions including love. Unlike me, Rick had matured without any developmental delays. I had not received ANY rehabilitation for the two head wounds. Consequently, I had not been developing new neural networks to supplement the damaged and dead ones. Thus, I had child-like problem-solving skills, developmental delays, and a malfunctioning decision-making system in my brain. Thankfully my intelligence and memory had not been damaged. However, due to the damaged executive functions to manifest the brilliant intellect I needed “villages” and the “kindness of strangers.”

In contrast, Rick had been like a well-trained racehorse. He had been able to envision his future, activate his dreams, manifest his plans, for, he had the drive and skills to create the life he wanted. As for me……..I was like an abused, neglected horse, put out to pasture before her prime. Rick was building a life. I was just trying to survive each day. 10 years later when we should have met. By that time I had completed Trauma Therapy and had created and put into place, many developed “villages” to assist and support me with more successful navigation through my life. 

However, the one thing that had adhered to me to Rick was my “mission to solve the puzzle of me” and finally be able to live the life laying in wait inside me. And due to that “mission”, when I had met Rick I truly thought I was “living the life.” That belief had been born when I started my junior year in high school. By graduation from high school, I had built excellent villages at work and school. I had amazing friends. I had been accepted into college. I would escape my family by attending school in Massachusetts. And after graduation, I met Rick, had fallen in love with him, and really liked his family and friends. Finally, I had a serious relationship. And like the title of the song by the mellow classic rock group - America - “You Can Do Magic” I was under the impression that Rick and I could make magic. I had believed I was a magician who had successfully shuttered my ghosts in an attic deep inside me. I had been determined not to let the dread inside me breathe a word to Rick or anyone else.  And, like Deborah Harkness said, - “Magic is desires made real” -  I had actually had a summer where some of my desires were now real.  For me, autumn would continue this new way of life.  Yep, I was living the life!!!!