6.37 I'm very fond of my brain

I posted this last week and subsequently deleted it. I'm not sure why exactly, perhaps I didn't want to talk about it right away? Maybe I felt a certain amount of shame in seeming to want sympathy? Either way, there was something uncomfortable about it, but what the hell, let's try this again.

Last week I was in a car accident. I don’t really want to go into too many details at the moment. For now, let’s just say I didn’t initiate the crash, and there were two trucks involved and a guardrail. Shaken up a bit, plus a concussion, whiplash and some bruises, but otherwise okay.

What I do want to talk about is that concussion. I’m very fond of my brain. I make a living off it and it fuels my creativity in all my other extra-curricular activities such as podcasting and storytelling. I’ve been feeling a bit…foggy is the word I’m using. I catch myself stuttering, reaching for words and losing my train of thought if I talk for too long.

I’ve been told by the doctors to rest my brain. It has suffered trauma. If I sprained my ankle, I’d be advised to stay off it. How do you stay off your brain? Limited exposure to screens, no phone, no reading, no over-stimulation. I’m doing my best on all these things. Basically, sit in a dark room and try not to think. Right.

The doctor didn’t say that I couldn’t write. And I’m a writer. So, I’m going to write about it.

Of course, writing involves thinking, but for the first time in years, I am not using a computer to do it. I feel I am extracting my thoughts and pouring them on to paper. Thoughts about whether this accident was a profoundly meaningful wake-up call. Or that it was a meaningless random act. Thoughts about mortality, about death, about life. Scary thought about whether I did in fact step out of that car. Aren’t these thoughts better on the page rather then get imprinted on my brain?

I’m very fond of my brain. For as long as I can remember, I’ve lived in real life and inside my imagination. I’ve tried to take those things I see in my imagination and transfer them into the real world as living, tangible objects. I do fear that there will be effects from this accident that are not yet visible.

I hope this entry makes sense. It’s short, but it’s about my limit for the moment. I’ve been feeling a bit foggy lately. It’s not supposed to last too long. The brain is an incredible muscle, mine has been sprained and it just needs time to heal.