Severe Ruck-da-buck

This whole ordeal started out with me waking up uncertain of where I was or what was going on. My whole right side felt numb, kind of as if it was asleep. My mother and grandmother were there with worried looks on their faces, but my mind’s eye was far clearer than not. Meaning, despite the situation, nurses, and the hospital, in general, I was calm as the sea after a storm. This part of my situation, I can only describe it as the third-person part. What I mean by describing it as the third-person is that when I did anything, it felt as if someone else was doing it.
In the hospital everything was done for me, it was as if I had been born again for the second time. But in all do not know how many times I had escaped the end or death so this was what I like to call my second time, but to be honest it’s been way more than two. Every time you wake you’ve escaped death. Over my three and a half month stay in the hospital, death becomes your friend and having a severe traumatic brain injury, which in itself is a sort of glass, some of my traits were magnified. For you see a brain injury works as a magnifying, unlike a magnifying glass which only magnifies. Traits, things that were there prior to the injury are either magnified or shrunk.
I don’t know how the choice is made seeing that I am the one having to deal with the brain injury labeled severe. They are then blown to sometimes unreasonable levels but other times the glass is flipped over and shrinking happens. Both happen seemingly randomly. Filters keep you from losing your temper when someone does something you don’t like. And since I chose not to mind most of my filters before my head got “parked”, afterward it got much worse. It was as if my Head Honcho in Charge of Filters called them to a great selectively, drugged, fired, and otherwise promoting some of them.
Now how did a darker than light country boy end up with a severe traumatic brain injury? To answer that, we’re going to have to look into my past. Looking a person’s past is most often shown in a bad light, but I do it now to learn from my successes and mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes, that’s what being human is all about, and if we try and shield kids from making any mistakes. How will they learn? Unfortunately, there has been just as many failures in my past if not more than successes.
My life before that accident was spent being productive, but the definition of “what” I was productive at remains lost to me. It all is what it is and what it ain’t. It ain’t. When getting behind the wheel that fateful night, I knew I wanted to get home but didn’t think I would ever be parking my car, and my head, in a cedar tree. Unfortunately, the reality of my disability does not sink into my that I am still dealing with the effects of a brain injury. Information to the contrary goes in one side of my injured brain and out the other, as most everything does–minus, of course, that which doesn’t.
Before, I could run, talk to anyone, and eat what I chose, but then the “parking job” happened, which left me connected to life support in the hospital for three and half months, talking in a whisper and being fed through a tube. Everything that has been told me of my life before, mixed with what little I remember me to leave that door shut and let sleeping memories lie.
Picture me as a big little kid, mentally as a child, growing into a man of 25 but staying with the kid tendencies. I don’t remember making the choice that’s what happened. One of the more serious consequences of the trauma is my lack of mental, filters. What is normally given to a child in the early ages of their life, basic rules and characteristics that will come in handy later in life. Not being any different, my mother instilled in me my first filters. Later filters are gained by your choice of who you spend time with, family and friends. Filters of how to act, speak, what to do, and what not…
Being some degree smarter than stupid, the world tells me it was like this before my accident. Full of distractions, I too fell prey to some of the world’s many distractions. All of the world’s distractions, some sins some steps to, fall into three categories. All three start in the mind, then some fall in the flesh category and some deal with the mind, the main computer of the body is where they all start. So it is of great importance to protect your brain, not letting the enemy take hold.
Experiences that took place created natural filters in my mind, but by choice I had placed filters selectively blocking some good while letting some bad in. Then, thanks to the “parking job”, my bouncer the filter I named “Earl” is missing. “Earl” used to work the entrances and exits to my mind, but the years of partying and drugs had turned him into a half-asser. Yet he still refused admission to some unwanted intruders. Others made it through and now it’s a free-for-all. Unfortunately often lose my cool when there are multiple inputs or more than one person has something they want me to do. Just writing these paragraphs may seem simple, however, it was anything but. It consisted of me writing paragraphs only to write them again, moving round and round and round. Without my filters, it is definitely harder than easy to complete anything.
Another filter I named “Randy” filters my information making the public stuff public while keeping the private stuff in the box. Randy always kept me out of trouble in sometime during the hospital stay he took a leave of absence. Upon exiting he left the door wide a whole to which anything, and I mean anything, could go in or come out. Any thought or person was allowed in and any impulsive comment came out, which presented a “fun” opportunity for people and offered me as a target for amusement, which they did not let go to waste.
The “head honcho”, although he has a name it was told me that if I disclosed his identity I would then be “silenced”. At the point of being told I would have to die, I promptly said good day, both nodded and smiled, and didn’t ask another question like a good boy. Lately, I have been referring to him as the “head honcho”. Anyway, the “head honcho” did away with both my filters, “Earl and Randy”, and since anything can happen. Until I could find a replacement for Earl or Randy I found myself totally disoriented, even in the most orient of places.
My whole ordeal was and is altogether simple, a friend and I were drinking moonshine in Crozet, mixed that with marijuana and cocaine and you have a deadly ensemble, a Molotov cocktail of sorts. Although the gentleman’s house we were at said at the time of me first getting out of the hospital that there was nothing wrong between us, what took place between then and now screams otherwise.
Being far smarter than stupid, his actions tell me that regardless of what comes out of his mouth, he and I had long since stopped the friendship. But let it continue the public only. If I had known that at the time of me first getting released from the hospital, I would’ve still given the money back to him but would not have wasted my eye on him. It was told me, by him of course, that I had robbed him of $600. Being fresh from the hospital and facing a severe traumatic brain injury, I did not totally think it through despite the nervous look on his face. And saved this $600 up over the span of however months it took, taking bits of money out of my disability check. Regardless of whether or not I had actually taken this money or it was some sort of a joke of his, the joke is on him seeing that it will be rectified in the end.


Holla at me.

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