I wear my sunglasses at night. So I can. So I can.

I was in California this past week for work. It was hot, as in temperature hot. And I heard that song. “I wear my sunglasses at night” when I was driving.  I drove a lot last week.   And the song reminded me of driving in high school, and then for some reason the grog that I’ve felt ever since my brain exploded.  The grog that always seemed to feel a little better when I wore my sunglasses.  So for the last 20 months, I’ve worn them a lot more than I would have before everything in my life changed so dramatically.

Two weeks ago, my brain grog or fog started to lift.  I can’t adequately verbalize to you the difference between feeling brain groggy and regular groggy.  It’s different.  The only people that seem to understand what I mean when I say that are other people who have experienced brain issues.  My mother’s friend recently had a stroke.  She understood what I meant when I described my brain grog — and of course my brain exhaustion.  I recently had dinner with a fellow member of a non-profit board that I’m on who had a really bad and terrible concussion.  He completely understood what I meant.  Brain grog and brain tired is just different than regular grog and regular tired.  If there is one thing I’ve learned from this experience (actually, there’s many), it’s not to assume I can understand what anyone’s physical symptoms are from whatever illness they’re going through.  I just know that from now on, I’ll listen and believe people when they describe their symptoms or their pain — or whatever they’re going through.  Unless I’ve been through it myself, I won’t be too quick to assume I get them or what they’re struggling through. But I’ll care.

It was just a month ago when I had finally decided that my brain grog was just part of my new normal.  I mean, I had hit the 18 month “you’re now officially healed” milestone — and I still felt groggy.  So I just succumbed and accepted my new hazy fate.  And then two weeks ago, without any warning, I started to feel better.  Far less groggy — and far less exhausted.  Normal tired.  Not brain tired.  Suddenly, my weekend days went from doing one thing, and one thing only (besides resting in bed), to fully packed.  Yesterday I did multiple things…. all day.  I can’t remember the last time I’ve managed to do that.

It’s possible, my body and brain just decided that 20 1/2 months was actually what I needed to recover.  Or maybe the Fucker psychopath incident delayed my recovery a bit.  I mean, he definitely blew my mind (in the metaphorical sense)…  and dealing with the aftermath of his fucked up discard of me could have contributed to a slower rehabilitation.  Who knows?  All I know is that I’m so relieved to not feel groggy.  I’m also trying to quell my fear that this is only a temporary break and that my grog will return.  Now that I’ve felt normal for a decent chunk of time, I realize how un-normal I was actually feeling.  I really do not want to go back to that.  It’s pretty crazy.  Poor me.  I do feel sorry for myself.  This whole thing — my story — has been rough.  And damn, it has almost been two years.  This recovery shit is slow.

Anyway.  I wonder if Joe Biden, Brett Michaels or Sharon Stone also know the feeling of brain grog? They’re  some of the famous people who have survived brain aneurysms like me.  Laura Brannigan (of the song “Gloria” fame) probably never experienced it since she died of one in her sleep.  My friend Conrad survived his in his 20s…  He managed to recover splendidly — but then again, he was just a child when he had his.  I could get over anything quickly in my 20s.

As I finished my weird hot yoga today (with some weirdo loud moans running rampant from some of the weirdos in the room), I started to feel bad I took such a long break in between my posts. I find it is very hard for me to write when I’m away. And I do travel a lot for work. So my apologies in advance for the delays. When I’m traveling for work, I’m just focused on that….  which I suppose is a good thing.

Happy Sunday!