Confessions of a Concussed Cyclist: one is the loneliest number

April 15, 2021

When I first entered the life of living with a traumatic brain injury I could never have imagined just how lonely it would be. Every single thing I do now is based around my brain injury and how I’m feeling.  If I want to get together with someone, I need to plan to rest up ahead of time to have the energy for our adventure and rest up after to recover.  I need to be careful what the environment is that I’ll be spending time in (not too loud, not too busy, not too overwhelming…think Goldie Locks…it needs to be just right). I need to keep an eye on the clock and on my energy level and make sure I don’t spend too much time in a social setting because the consequences can be disastrous for me. 

I’ve lost people I thought were friends.  I can’t spend as much time as I’d like with the friends that remained.  I have to limit how much I’m around my family, even though if it were up to me I’d spend every minute of every day with my nieces and nephews. I gave up dating four years ago because dating with a TBI proved to be too hard.  I still love the idea of “the one” and “happily ever after” but he will need to be THE most patient and understanding man ever (if such a man still exists) and he’ll have to do the work to convince me of these qualities beforehand because I stopped looking and agreeing to dates a long time ago.

I’m thankful for a dear friend that does her best to keep noise down around me and is happy to just sit quietly and play cards.  I’m thankful for a mother that will sit and watch old movies with me and understands when I need to quickly leave a setting.  I’m thankful for a friend that looks into my eyes to best gauge how I’m feeling before work.  I’m thankful for friends that reach out and offer encouragement.  But it’s still lonely.  I spend a crazy amount of time by myself because that is what is easiest for me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss late nights out at the bar, going to listen to live bands, having large group dinners…

Over the past six and a half years, a part of me has accepted the loneliness that comes with a TBI but a part of me also feels like it’s getting harder.  I miss being social.  I miss not needing to rest before and after being around people.  I miss not being on edge in different settings waiting for something to trigger my TBI symptoms. 

One is the loneliest number.