| :: an artist rising :: ( @ 2008-03-20 20:07:00 |
| Current music: | Behold and See (from Handel's Messiah) - Jon Schmidt |
| Entry tags: | ariann, introspection, tbi |
answer to a question
NB: I am going dark shortly after this. Though I am not using the userpictures or made posts about it, I feel strongly enough about censorship to at least pay lip service to tomorrow's Content Strike.
ed using In response to a recent ask/tell poll, the lovely
ladytairngire asks:
A) Do you subscribe to the idea that illness and injuries are more than just accidental, that they are often symbolic and/or are messages from the Universe [or fill in your favorite term here]?
B) If not, pretend for a moment that you do. What meaning do you take from the accident you had that has so effected [sic] your life?
In a recent post, I allusded to the fact that I thought I survived my Traumatic Brain Injury for a reason. To this day, though, I can't fathom what that reason might have been. Indeed, I am starting to lose hope for ever finding such a reason.
"But you're father to a wonderful girl," some might say. "Isn't that enough?"
"No," I would reply. "It's not enough." I want to leave my mark on this world; I want to be known for my accomplishments. Ariann's life is hers; like an arrow shot from a bow, I have precious little control over her aside from the initial thrust and direction. She is her own person, and it is not my place to ride her coattails.
I can safely say that
But Ariann is not the subject of this post. My TBI is, and how the Universe might have been communicating with me through it.
If indeed that is what happened, then I would say in response "Couldn't you have found a better way to send me a message?" For though I am high-functioning, there are things that continue to this day that clearly delineate my disability: Constant tinnitus (ringing in the ears). Near constant headaches. Inability to hold a job. Lack of motivation and ambition. Cognitive fatigue that can strike at any moment -- as if my brain would throw up its hands (if it had hands) and say "Nope! I'm done! Too much input. Shutting down now."
Oh, and something else about my injury: It's invisible. You wouldn't know about it if I didnb't tell you, and for the majority of the 23 years since my accident, I've discounted it, downplayed the impact it has had on my life, and generally tried to get along as a "normal" person in a "normal world."
I've tried and generally failed, now that I look back on it.
So what was the Universe trying to say to me, and why did it use the cosmic equivalent of a 155mm howitzer to get the message across?
I still have no idea what it was trying to say, or why. I may wonder all the way to my grave, but nonetheless I believe that there was a reason. Even if I don't know what that reason was.
Does that answer the question?