On Second Thought

In a previous post, I recounted my answer to a question that I often receive from groups that I’ve been fortunate to speak with. In “What’s the hardest part?”, I attempted to convey that not unlike most human beings walking around today; for myself, a brain injury survivor of almost 15 years now, staying present and mindful to fully participate in each day as it comes, remains perhaps my greatest challenge. It really is a miracle and ignites gratitude in my heart to realize that my recovery has progressed to the point where simply walking, talking, bathing, or dressing is no longer a daunting task.

So why the second post concerning the question coming in various forms over the years? Well, as is often the case with reflection, upon further thought my answer hasn’t entirely changed, but become clearer while also expanding. I don’t think that I’m unique in finding the most difficult form of forgiveness to be self-forgiveness. After all, based on the number of times I’ve heard someone share shame or guilt they have surrounding an incident occurring long ago, difficulty with forgiving ones’ self is quite common. We’ve all heard statements beginning like “I would’ve/should’ve/could’ve,” perhaps finding ourselves saying these very words.  I know I can find myself with similar thoughts quite often.

Particularly in the early stages after my car crash 7/4/06, and still at times today, I am overwhelmed with remorseful feelings for having caused my brain injury. In fact, after learning the circumstances of the crash over a year after the fact, I became extremely depressed. It wasn’t like I was unaffected by facing a life with my newly acquired disability before finding out that I was driving drunk that night; rather that suddenly I had a perpetrator to blame. In a weird way I felt a strange duality in that the prior version of Jim did this to the new version, and unfortunately, the more gains I made in my rehabilitation meant I was reminded of the guy who did this to me more and more.

It was this depressed state and quiet state that my dad dropped me off for my first day at the Krempels Center in 11/08. I had actually gone to inquire about volunteer opportunities after being discharged from an intense 4-day a week Neuro-rehab program leaving me with some newfound free time. I can’t remember if it was that first day, but it was very early on in my attendance when I met Brie an amazing woman who’s survived multiple brain injuries and is a talented Saori weaver and active member at KC! I was sitting off to the side after morning meeting when she approached me and said hello, asking how I was? I think I said something like, “not great, I did this to myself by driving drunk.” Keep in mind that Brie uses a voice box to communicate, now it is an I-pad, but at the time it was a larger object named
“Betty”.

The pause while she typed out the words, “Well I got hit by a drunk driver and I like you!” surely added to their effect on me. It’s not that I was suddenly relieved of all my guilt and shame in an instant, but wow, it really made me think! After all, I can’t really pick what the greatest challenge of living with a brain injury is, but forgiving myself is certainly right up there. To have someone I was just meeting who could understandably view me with disdain offer me such kindness was certainly a step in the right direction.