So, I was told to keep my sanity, I should journal

Funny how the thought of keeping my inner most thoughts private seems pointless.  I already know my thoughts.  And, then the irony continues because I normally keep all these things to myself, and now I'd rather share them with the world then just write them for myself.  I don't even understand myself sometimes. 

You can blame the VA for this.  Recently, they began a program for post 9/11 Veterans who need caregivers, and surprise, that is our house.  I had to complete some training ( you know, for a job I have been doing for years already.  Typical government program!) and it had some decent helpful hints.  Some I would have liked to have known years ago, and then the ones I just laughed off.  BUT, I don't know why the journaling seemed to stick with me to the point where I actually found a place to do it.  It did.  I found it, and if you are reading this... you did too!  Congrats.  Just know one thing, if it gives you a place to comment or respond and you put in there something that sounds like I'm sorry for you, or I didn't know, or anything that makes me view my life as negative.. I will bring you here and let you live it.  I don't need sympathy; I have humor.  I gave up the tears a long time ago.  Now, we just laugh about.  A lot of things that happen are quite hysterical.  I prefer to focus on those.  I know it sucks, it for sure isn't the life we planned on- but have spent countless hours in therapy to accept our "new normal" and to us, this is all normal.

The incident that pushed me over the edge the other day was the cell phone.  I really hate cell phones.  Brandon depends on his, it is a lifeline.  It contains numbers, notes, directions, secret codes.... everything he may need when his memory lapses.  When we set up the phone, it asked if he wanted a password to protect his voice mail.  He did, and chose the one password he has used for as long as I can remember, and the one he uses for EVERYTHING ( just like he shouldn't do... but, brain injury of the frontal lobe and numbers= good luck with that).  We finally got to the place over the weekend where he could not for anything remember that code.  This frustrates him, because he knows he should know it, and he spent a while trying to think of it... all the while getting more upset and frustrated over 4 little numbers.  He put up his phone, and on his way out to smoke commented on how worthless his phone was now and he wanted a new phone company that didn't allow passcodes.  Ok, well I had the password removed by the time he came in.  If my life had a rewind button, I would have totally used it here.  He came in and proceeded to listen to who knows how many messages.  Lots of names and numbers flying at him, too many too fast for his brain to process.  Just enough to elevate his frustration.  Remember which number to replay the message?  Nope, not even close.  A few messages later was an angry one from several weeks ago.  An incident that was closed, but suddenly reopened.  Listening to the message was not familiar and didn't seem to him to be old... it was happening right then with no recollection of the incident from before.  It was happening again.  It didn't go over well the first time, and the second time was no better.  This time he was already frustrated about all the names and numbers and accidental deleting.. and now anger from the phone.  AY CARUMBA.  It took a bit, but I talked him down.  Back to calm, convinced him the messages were old, and jogged that damaged memory of his.  These are those things I keep to myself.  Seemingly harmless, but yet causing an abundance of pain.  Another reminder of what is lost, what will not come back, and what will continue.  Another time to wonder if it will get worse or will anyone ever really understand what our life has become?  I usually believe it does not matter if people truly understand.  I wouldn't wish this on anyone... but would wish people could understand those moments you spend with him, the good moments, are a true blessing.  How much time and preparation goes into getting him ready to be around people and be their view of normal takes work for us.  This kind of thing is our normal.  It just is what it is, and we get through them and we go on.  We can't go back to how it used to be, we can't pretend these things don't happen ( ALL THE TIME ) and the one thing I will not do to anyone, anymore is apologize for these things.  Any man who fights for his country should be considered and treated as a hero.  Those who pay the ultimate price are remembered and hailed as the rightful heroes they are... those who return home wounded are misunderstood and often dropped like bad habits.  I have to say, it kinda sucks.  I have met some amazing new people walking the same path we are on.  They get it, it is "normal" for them to.  Some friendships have gotten stronger and some have made me question why I would have ever once considered those people friends.  It happens for normal people too, I KNOW THIS... but to think a lot who have walked away haven't done it as a result of Brandon's injury is ridiculous.  Some at least have had the courage to say so.

Ok, so I got that off my chest.  Not sure it solved anything, made me feel better, or it is something I'll look back on and think I'm glad that doesn't happen anymore.  Only time will tell.  Oh, and if you happen to call my husband... don't expect him to call you back, please don't leave a lot of numbers and think he can process them all- he can't, and above all , do not leave emotionally charged messages that he may not get for several weeks and then have to relive.  If you need something... call my cell phone.  I'm sure it won't be charged, or I'll have left it somewhere... but I can handle the numbers, I think to check it usually,and if you were mad at 6 weeks ago, I know how to check what date the message was left and I'd probably remember that.