artist

Wind blowing, matches unspent

I am at the bottom of a hill

I don’t know what comes over me

Impatience, boredom, or my own hubris

But I light my match all the same

My legs surge and rubber burns on the tarmac

I hear the reaction and I dig deeper to discourage anyone thinking of following

Someone else hears the reaction; they look back to see me

But they lost their line, and I lost my life

It happens too fast–a literal blink of an eye

My heart leaps, and body soars

Helmet cracks; Lights out

My ragdoll body unspools on the road ahead

Break, break, break

I lay here outside of my body, owing my death to a stranger

I’ll never learn their name

How do I describe what I was not present for? – An hour exists without me

I find my way back to the shell beneath me, my ears ringing like a flashbang

I look up to the open, blue sky

I cannot move–or I am too scared to try

“Why am I here?” I lament to myself as my girlfriend rushes over

This time aloud, “Why did you let me do this?”

Of course I chose this, but I am not in my right mind

This is just the beginning

Flashing Lights, Sirens, ICU

My stay is a blur; my diagnosis: “just a concussion”

Days pass; euphoria

I feel fine; I look fine

Reality hasn’t set in yet

I’m unaware of what I am up against

I push myself too hard, too soon

I don’t take care of myself

Weeks pass; unsettled

Headaches start to set in

I start to realize that I am cognitively slower

I mix-up words

I can’t find words

Brain fog

light sensitivity

Noise Sensitivity

And ringing in my ears that never stops

Headaches become migraines– I can’t get rid of them.

I sit alone in a dark, empty room with no screens, no sounds, and close my eyes hoping for things to get better.

But I remain a ghost in my own brain

Months pass; unraveled

My symptoms persist

Wait lists for doctors–for specialists

I resume work– I can’t not work; I have no financial safety net

I look ok at first glance, but it doesn’t take long to notice I am husk of my prior self

Can’t keep track of 20 bills from the hospital visits

Finally see specialists after 6 months

They can’t help me either

Up until my second death I believed I could do anything–I set goals and pushed myself to do them

After this death, I feel trapped inside of my body

I know things are wrong with me

I know I am not 100%

But I can’t will myself to be better

I can only pretend to be better

Interim; vulnerable

I am forgetful

I keep lists so I can remember

I keep lists so I can do better

But I still forget

I am drowning

I have the same conversations multiple times; new to me until I go to write it down.

I watch my friends from group therapy, one by one, lose their loved ones

I worry the same will happen to me

But for some reason she stays by my side

I don’t understand it, but I don’t question it

I am lucky; I am loved

Years pass; treading

I’m aware enough to know there is a disconnect between the old and new me

I try to rationalize this is just temporary; as time goes on I become lost in myself

Have I returned to normal, or have I just accepted my new self?

In time, I find a doctor who can help, and I can afford the treatment

It is a long road to recovery but I do slowly get better

I learn my body, inside and out, and can control most of my symptoms

And eventually, one day, I think I am free

I sit here now 10 years later, looking back at it all

Part of me still wonders, did I survive in the end?

Or am I still just the ghost in my brain; the stranger’s art?