Confessions of a Concussed Cyclist: lets talk about change

January 28, 2026

This blog is about a cyclist living with a traumatic brain injury, but every once in a while, I sprinkle in another diagnosis I live with, post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).  I have PTSD because of the events that caused my TBI.  I struggle daily with PTSD and no one, except my therapist, knows the full extent of these struggles.  

Part of my PTSD world is needing consistency, routine, predictability, because that is safe.  It gives me control.  When my routine gets changed, when my life becomes unpredictable, when there is too much grey and not enough black and white, my brain views this as a threat.  It signals that I am in danger.  I can’t speak for everyone, but often people with PTSD struggle with change.  The irony of this is before my TBI, before PTSD entered the chat, I would get antsy, often.  I wanted to move, I wanted to change jobs.  I would get bored and dream of how to create change in my mundane life. Now, however, I crave the mundane.  I crave the predictable.  I require a routine.  I feel safest with the consistency.  

The past nine months have brought two of the biggest changes an adult can experience.  I had to move and now I am getting a new boss (well, bosses).  Moving ended up being a blessing in disguise.  I ended up with the sweetest, kindest, new landlords.  I left an apartment and landed in a small house that is all my own.  No noisy neighbors all around me.   But the change, the actual move, the adjusting to a new place, was all extremely difficult, for months and months and months. Even now, eight months later, I still experience some hard moments at my new home (it is better, not as bad or as often as it was, but there are times when my brain still tells me this place is not safe).  Now the boss…that one will be even harder.  Don’t get me wrong, I am happy for my boss.  He deserves this retirement.  He gives so much to so many others, it’s time for him to rest, recover, do what he wants, when he wants.  It’s a hard thing to navigate when your heart says “I’m so happy for him!  He deserves this!” but my brain says “BUT!  What about…? How will…? What if…?”  See, I won the lottery with this boss.  He understands my situation and is always accommodating to my needs.  He’s funny and kind and generous and thoughtful.  His super power is to look at my eyes and know exactly how my head is feeling.  I can even smile, laugh, and pretend I’m feeling okay, but he calls my b.s. with 100% accuracy every time.  To be losing this, to be losing the safety and security of him being my boss, is very scary.  Not knowing how things at work will be with the new owners triggers my PTSD brain to say it’s not safe…what if? What if…?  WHAT IF…?  They may be the nicest people in the world but that doesn’t change how my brain reacts to the situation.  I can’t control how my brain is affected by things…if I could I would.  I can’t control the times that I know I am safe, I know it, but my brain still tells me there is a threat, there is danger, and when my brain tells me that, it is very, very real.  When this trigger happens, logic goes out the window.  Facts are gone.  Everything you know to be true is no longer, because the only thing that feels true is my brain telling me I’m not safe. This won’t be ok. It’s very exhausting living in a world where you expect danger at every turn.  Where your brain can turn the smallest things into the biggest dangers. 

Many people will say “change is part of life”, “life can’t move forward without change” and perhaps that is true, but it doesn’t stop my PTSD response from being triggered. Change means lack of control.  Change means unknown, danger. Change triggers my fight or flight response. 

If you have read this and now feel the need to say “I get it” or “I hate/struggle with change too” I beg of you, please don’t.  I had changes in my life before PTSD entered my world.  I had to move.  I had to change jobs.  I know that level of unease and discomfort and concern that comes with that and I promise you, what I experience now that PTSD is like a shadow I can’t shake…it’s 100 times worse than anything you could imagine. Unless you also have a PTSD diagnosis (an actual diagnosis, not a self-diagnosis like so many people like to use now…that’s a whole different Confession right there!) you can’t imagine how difficult and scary change is.