Caring, emo, sharing

Sharing Is Caring . . . To a Point

Honesty is important to me but I realize now that some topics don’t need to be breached.

In trying to communicate and exhibit integrity, I crossed the line into a territory where I’ve shared too much.

I need to NOT avoid or repress feelings. They should to be reflected on and processed.

However, my emotions can change, moment to moment, so I don’t need to cater to EVERY thought.

There’s an art to being tactful when hashing out one’s sensibilities.


First of all, the feelings and thoughts we have are important, but they’re not concrete truths. They are merely our own perceptions, opinions, and points-of-view; no one else’s.

At the same time, the feelings and thoughts we have are NOT unique. What differentiates me, from you, or the next human, is response; action.

We all have choices regarding how we react to feelings, thoughts, circumstances, etc.

Attempting to repress emotions is a chosen act so we may as well take the time to acknowledge how we feel and why we feel that particular way. Allowing this process will likely lead us to the most appropriate action.

When we bottle our emotions up, we run the risk of losing control.

When we lose control, we’re caught off guard, which makes us more likely to act inappropriately.

Self-sustained sensations rooted in fear, such as paranoia, worry, obsession, etc., only lead to suffering of oneself.

Another fear-based sentiment is guilt.

There’s no need to feel guilty for feeling.

Feelings are not set in stone. Feelings do not dictate who we are at our core.


When a feeling or thought, first enters my noggin and it wants to stay, I (again) need to process it (not push it down). I will look at the “how I feel,” “why I feel that way,” and go from there.


Feeling #1: I’m worried about how I’ll do on a project for school.

I’m worried because I’m afraid of failing. If I fail, I’ll lose my funding, I’ll look “stupid,” etc.

Solution: I don’t need to indulge in worst-case scenarios because they’re hypothetical and if I do my best, I should have nothing to fear. If I allow my “worry” to take over, I’ll be wasting energy that I COULD be using toward a resolution, and even be, potentially, setting myself up for failure.

If I didn’t do my best, I need to take responsibility for that. No scapegoats!

To make “my best” happen, I will make sure I have all the information I need. If the professor prepares an outline, I’ll use that as a checklist. If I’m not sure about something, I’ll ask questions. Just because I may want some things spelled out for me, doesn’t mean I lack intelligence. I’m just being thorough in sorting semantics. When I assume, there may be a breakdown in communication. I’m not a mind-reader so if there is confusion on my part, I’m responsible for asking relevant questions to clear it up.


Feeling #2: Someone said something to me that, sort of, stung.

This comment hurt my feelings. Why did it hurt? Because I took it personally. Why did I take it personally? Maybe, there’s a ring of truth to it. Maybe, it triggered a painful memory.

Solution: This one’s tough. Maybe, confronting the culprit would only engage the person, thereby “rewarding” their negative behavior. Maybe, they “know not what they do.” Maybe, I did something adverse, and they’re reacting to it by lashing out. Maybe, it was meant as a joke that crossed a line.

How I choose to react, depends on any particular situation.

If I provoked said “attack,” I (again) need to take responsibility by addressing what is transpiring.

If it’s a conflict with someone I know, I should, probably, express how the comment made me feel; create a boundary. While, I’m not a mind-reader, neither is anybody else.

If it’s someone that I’ve never seen before and will never seen again, I could, by all accounts, refrain from delving into any further contention.

Sometimes, not taking action is the best action. Again, it’s all about how I CHOOSE to expend my energy.


An activity I perform routinely is to reword, what could be, subconscious or unintentional self-depreciating phrases.


Examples: Above I spun “asking questions makes me feel stupid” into “there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be thorough, which can be done by asking questions.”

“I am neurotic.” vs. “I am methodical.”

“I am weird.” vs. “I exhibit character.”

“I’m never satisfied.” vs. “I evolve.”

“I can never stay in one place for too long.” vs. “I am worldly and love to travel.”

Etc., etc., etc.


It takes just as much effort to indulge in negativity, as putting positive vibes out there.

If you aren’t a nihilist, why not choose positivity?

Anxiety, Brain Injury, Depression

Triple Whammy

Dealing with depression, anxiety, and a brain injury is confusing and disheartening.

Were my lows this low, before the stroke? Did I always hate crowds this much? Did I overthink things this much? . . . or everything just a little bit worse? I don’t remember so I can’t make an accurate comparison.

I spend a lot of time scrutinizing things like, what to do with my time, who I’ll spend it with, where I’m comfortable being from moment to moment, and how I’ll get there.

I make mistakes, but they’re not as drastic or detrimental as they used to be.

I have no regrets because in each wrongful act I’ve committed, or mistake I’ve made, I’ve learned more about myself and human nature.

As humans, what we want and what’s right, don’t necessarily coincide.

On top of that sentiment, it’s all relative to who you’re surrounded by, what your beliefs are, what takes priority at the given time, what makes you tick, what resources are at your disposal, etc.

That being said, I’d like to strive to be a better person, while minimizing emotional pain across the board.

A few of my goals for this winter are to remain seizure-free and to combat my impending, debilitating depression. That means staying away from stressful, demoralizing situations.

Part of this quest for salvation is having to battle my inner demons and win. It can be done but it’s not easy and it’s a never-ending struggle.

So, after a week of serious thinking, in early December, I decided to try remain to sober.

My neurologist okayed me to have ONE alcoholic beverage per day. However, I can’t ever predict whether I can stop after one.

For instance, on a Wednesday night about a month ago, I thought, “A glass of cabernet sauvignon would pair nicely with a slice of strawberry rhubarb pie,” and it did but . . . Then, I had two more glasses of wine, only one glass of water, and forgot to take the evening dose of my anti-convulsant.

The morning after the “wine and pie fiasco,” I had a seizure.

I was treating the site where I bit down on my cheek during said seizure. It wasn’t healed after a week. This, among other things, solidified my decision to try self-restraint.

I’m really good at justifying things to myself. I never, really, considered sobriety before because I’ve never believed in abstaining from something. I believed that telling yourself, you can’t have something is just . . . cruel. But, in weighing pros and cons, at this moment, allowing myself to drink is more cruel because of the imminent domino effect.

Overall, I need to take better care of myself.

It’s been a solid month of sobriety. The more time passes, the prouder I am of myself. I’ve been treating myself the way I’ve always wanted to.

I figured, if I could just make it through the holidays, the rest would be cake.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve wanted to drink within the past month to deal with stress, to make myself comfortably numb, to “fit in,” to not remember, etc. But, I realize that those “coping mechanisms” are temporary, counter-productive, and NOT healthy. Again, one drink would be alright, but I never can tell if I’ll stop after that one. It’s better FOR ME to cut it out completely.

It took a few weeks but, now, I feel better than I have, in a long time.

I’m more in-tune with my body. If I feel “off” I think, “Did I take my meds? Do I need food? Do I need sleep?” There’s no ignoring, or guessing, or forgetting.

For about a year or so, I was afraid to leave my apartment; afraid I’d forget my morning meds, worried I’d have a seizure or a panic attack at the gym or on the bus, stuff like that. Irrational fears, really.

I people say, I’m sharper and my speech has improved. I think it’s true. Even if it’s a placebo effect, I’ll take it!

I’ve been having weird, embarrassing dreams where I slip up and do something stupid. When I realize it’s only a dream, I feel relieved and reminded of what could be or has been and I’m like, “No, thank you.”

I’ve had more energy. I still NEED my naps and I still crap out from general fatigue, but it’s less frequent and doesn’t last as long.


It helps that everybody in my life has been so supportive.

They say, “Do you!”

And I say, “Hmmm . . . Okay!”


I don’t know. Something just feels right about 2016.


An Apology . . .

Parental Advisory: Crude Language

I don’t know, exactly, when I lost my innocence. I think it was a gradual process.

The older I get, the more jaded and guarded I become.

When I had the stroke, I was completely lost. I’m still lost but, now, I’m as grounded as I’ve ever been.

As part of services set in place through the Traumatic Brain Injury Waiver, I received a psychological evaluation. What that accomplishes is pinpointing what deficits I have that may affect school or work and what my needs would be, according to the psychologist’s findings.

As part of the evaluation, he had me fill out a personality assessment questionnaire.

Upon analyzing my answers, he said that they raise a lot of questions, one of which was, ”What’s the deal with you and relationships?”

I wanted to say, “Well, that’s a loaded question, Doctor.”

I’m in transition. I don’t know what I’m doing and I feel like an asshole but I can’t give any more to anyone than I already do and it’s not fair and I’m sorry.

I’m fucked up; more fucked up than I let on. It may seem like I’m an open book but I have a lot of layers. You only see what I allow you to see. I have secrets that I don’t want to talk about yet; secrets that lend to who I am but I’m not ready to share. I’m comfortable with my guard up for now.

What I mean is, I don’t know my new self so I’m doing my best but I don’t want to let anyone new in, at this time, and I’m trying to right past wrongs.

Getting to know me takes effort because I’m never satisfied and always evolving.

I am, by no means, trying to make excuses. I’m just trying to explain so the people I inadvertently hurt, hopefully, will not be as pained.

I don’t want to hurt anybody but I want to be ALL IN with people as passionate as I am. The old me just wanted to be loved. Now, I want to be loved and to love myself.

I didn’t think that was possible. I thought, if I showed other people love, it would replace that empty feeling inside of me. Their happiness would make me feel whole. Now, I’m trying “. . . to find what will make me content in the moment, while continuing moving forward, especially in recovery. I’m trying to find self-worth.” (, Redefinition, June 3rd, 2015.)

It’s a lot of work. I’m focusing on myself so I get lonely but it’s for the best.

Relationships mean more now, whether they be platonic or otherwise. If I choose you to be a part of my pack, I want it to be for life.

It’s a painful process. I’ve lost a lot of people throughout it; people I thought were friends lose patience or no longer believe I have anything to offer. Sometimes, would-be friends, don’t realize what they’re getting into. I try to explain from the get-go but I think I fall short in articulation. It sucks but oh well.

The way I see it, tattooing is my passion and I haven’t been able to do it so I’ve picked apart what I love about it. I love interacting on an intimate level with clients. I love getting to know people. I love picking apart people’s visions and being able to bring them to fruition. I love being a part of other people’s healing processes.

I’ve spent a lot my recovery trying to mimic those feelings. Sometimes, I come close to those same sensations. Just trying makes me feel like I’m doing something positive and not just rolling over.

Again, that’s all I can do for now and for that, I am truly sorry that I can’t do more.

Thank you to those who have been patient with me. It means the world to me and I’ll make it up to you someday.

Adapt, Balance, Change


I’ve become, quite recently, truly (in the plainest of terms) grateful for my stroke.

The reason being, it’s given me a real chance to redefine myself, and what I think is pivotal to my well-being. I have the time to actually become the person I want to be.

That is a gift. No more coveting. The world is my oyster. The sky’s the limit. Yes, because of my new-found, so-called “handicaps,” I’m supposedly limited to what I “can do.” But, not really. I have the mental capacity and resources to navigate around obstacles. It takes longer, but what are we in a hurry for anyway? Think about it.

When I had that significant change at the blink of an eye, I spent the following year, working my ass off, trying to regain what I’d “lost;” hoping everything would be as it were. I wanted my life back.

Once that year went by in my stroke recovery, I was devastated. I thought I’d be so much further than I was. I went through the stages of grief, mourning my past-self. I was in a very dark place, feeling very disheartened. After months of debilitating depression, I finally came terms with how different my life had become and will always be. I tried and am trying, to find what will makes me content in the moment, while continuing moving forward, especially in recovery. I’m trying to find self-worth.

With being labeled as disabled, I believed for a time, that I no longer had anything to offer anyone. Pre-stroke, I used my trade (tattooing) to show people I cared, to make money, and to travel. I gave newlyweds, birthday girls/guys, etc., tattoos as gifts. I made trades for things I wanted/needed. I could afford to visit peers/friends or offer rides places because I was always working.

Since the stroke, I’ve had to rethink my Love Languages (see, Support and Forgiveness, January 23rd, 2015.). What makes me a “good friend?” What am I physically, emotionally, or spiritually able to do now to show people that I care?

I have no money. I can’t, legitimately, drive. I can’t tattoo.

What CAN I do?!

I’m so grateful for the support I’ve received. Without it, I couldn’t have survived the first year of recovery. Not only did people visit me, but there were numerous benefits on my behalf. There was a place, online, where people could donate. All this started happening before I could even begin to fathom what was going on. No joke, in October 2013, I was out-of-it for nearly 3 weeks, but, without knowing it, I was being taken care of. Words cannot describe how much that means to me. With that support I was able to get through that first year financially and emotionally. I had a roof over my head, rides wherever I needed to go, kind words and encouragement, etc.

My mother helped get services in place: Medicaid, Disability, the Traumatic Brain Injury Waiver, etc. She gave me what I needed to be able to figure out what I want. In one word: my mama gave me “SECURITY.”

Medicaid helps me maintain my health and keep my doctors and therapists in cahoots. We’re a team. I love it.

Social Security Disability Insurance gives me money every month, which I use to pay bills.

The TBI Waiver provides me with, basically, loopholes with insurance, and services through an agency of my initial choosing. That said organization, first and foremost, hooked me up with a service coordinator (SC) and a councilor. My councilor has been with me since the beginning. I got lucky with her. Unfortunately, I had to go through 4 or so service coordinators in a year, and threaten to go through another agency, in order to reach the SC I have now. But, such is life, and we’re sure making up for lost time now!

Through the TBI Waiver, my service coordinator was able to get me funding with TBI Housing. Now that I have my own apartment, I have food stamps as well. They definitely lesson the financial burden. I’m, also, going through ACCES-VR (formerly Vesid) to make myself more “employable.” Namely, they’re helping me with driving lessons and going back to school; stuff like that. I figure, even if or when I start tattooing again, I could adjust my schedule accordingly. I’m not worried about it in the least.

So, on paper, things are going quite well.

There are some hiccups in regard to my health but I’m working on those too. I have to remember that I’m NOT a typical young woman anymore. The best I can to do is to take care of myself. Believe it or not . . . the alternative . . . THAT would be selfish. When I slip up on the things I need (or need NOT) to do, not only do I suffer, but the people who care about me suffer, as well (maybe even more-so).

That mentality has changed a lot of things for me. I used to think that giving all my energy toward other people mattered. I set myself lowest on the totem pole. I put other people’s needs and happiness before my own, because I thought that if the people around me were happy, I’d be happy too. I didn’t want to make waves. I wanted everyone to “like me.” I kept silent and sweet. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all,” right? Not necessarily. I now realize, you can be pleasant without sacrificing your self-respect.

Throughout my stroke recovery, I’ve been working hard at, not only my abilities and health, but my character too. Like I typed, previously, “I have the time to actually become the person I want to be.” How cool is that?!

So, I ask myself:

1.) What DO I THINK makes a solid human being?

Integrity. “Word is bond” (Wu Tang Clan, c.1993.). I like that phrase. It embodies everything I want to accomplish. I look at it as encompassing honesty, loyalty, following a certain moral code, strength in the face of adversity, etc.

2.) What qualities do I find in people I respect and admire?

I don’t believe in accepting hand-outs. I believe in working for what you’re given. I have to keep in mind, the services I use now, are in place because I NEED them. You’re not taking advantage if you’re in need. 

I respect conviction. Even if I don’t agree, I admire people who sick to their guns but allow room for discussion; debate, even. 

I lost a lot with my stroke but it’s okay because, in turn, I grew a backbone. I learned to say, “No.” Now and again, I try to keep up with the Joneses, but more often than not, if I need to sit a round or two out, I do. I’m still working on that. 

3.) What qualities do I find in the people I truly love unconditionally?

I appreciate when people are honest, while treating me as a peer. “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining.” (Judge Judy, 1997.) And, patronization or babying does’t do anyone, any good.

I would do anything in my power for the people I care about. That’s not a lot right now. Still, the people I love, don’t expect much but still make me feel special and held in high regard. 

4.) Would I date me?

Nah, brah. However, I’m starting to like myself and exhibiting more self-respect than ever. I’m getting there.

5.) After all is said and done, what do I think’s most important?

Integrity. Honesty. Loyalty. Strength in the face of adversity. Hard work. Conviction. Respect.

All these things matter to me, but NOT at my personal expense. Some overlap. Some contradict. But, it’s all about finding a balance. Allowing some vulnerability without victimization, pride without conceit. Finding self-love without selfishness. Knowing when to fight and when to walk away. Exhibiting discipline without obsession. Etc. Etc. Etc.

. . . : Make way for “Mariah 2.0” : . . .

Ask yourself versions of these questions and see where you end up.

Fine-tune yourself.

Above Photo by James Via

Aphasia, Coping, Effects

Aphasia: Another Acquired Speech Impediment

“The Greek word, aphatos, literally means “speechlessness.” [] What’s that word? That word that means you can’t think of the word that you’re thinking of? . . . Oh. Aphasia.” (, What Doesn’t Kill Me Makes Me Stronger, June 2014.)

One of my new catch phrases, since I had my stroke, is “Damn Aphasia . . .” I use it when I, for the life of me, cannot think of a word I know that I, otherwise, use frequently.

Aphasia has, over time, become less of an issue than apraxia ever was. However, my brush with aphasia was no less than terrifying.

  1. What emotions come along with aphasia?

Fear, frustration, and taking pleasure in little victories.

2. How have you overcome these emotions?

When, I, first, had the stroke, I had trouble communicating at all. My uncle brought me a bell and my mom a white board, to the hospital. We made a game out of my one-armed charades. I’d ring the bell whenever someone guessed what I was trying to convey. I used the white board for anything I could try to work out; whether it be the first letter of a word or a picture of something that I forgot how to spell, etc. 

Again, “I’ve had to learn to be patient and use whatever resources I can to communicate.” (, Apraxia: Effects and Coping, March 14th, 2015.)

My phone has become my lifeline. Albert Einstein said, “I never commit to memory anything that can easily be looked up in a book.” ( Google and the thesaurus have become my, most-used, tools.

The thing about my experience with aphasia is, it’s become less worrisome over time. I’ve always prided myself in my grammar and vocabulary. Managing acquired aphasia means, “unlocking” what you already know is there. 

One of my speech therapists described it as such: think about your brain as a file cabinet. My stroke was like a hurricane that went through my brain. Some folders wound up in shambles on the floor, some remained in tact but needed to be gone through for memory refreshment purposes. Some things were just out of order. The information was still there but, with aphasia, I couldn’t tell which end was up and I couldn’t find the words.  

As time passed, I knew in my head, the gist of what I wanted to communicate, but I couldn’t comprehend how to get it out. I was trapped with my thoughts and I was so scared that it would be that way forever. My head can become a very dark place that I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy be confined to.

So, I worked my ass off, organizing and tidying up that file cabinet, finding comfort in every word I relearned, every grammar rule I recalled, putting everything back in it’s right place, little by little, till I restored enough to know I would be “okay” eventually.

Social Media has kept me, more or less, grounded and has given me an outlet and a chance to reach out, simultaneously. 


3. Were there any medications that helped?

No. “I take Keppra, an anti-convulsant, and in the first hour or so after I take it, it slows my motor functions down, noticeably.” (“Mariah Rose’s Ramblings,” Apraxia: Effects and Coping, March 14th, 2015.) It make me sluggish (more-so than I already am). 

4. How does this complication effect the people around you?

I count on people to be patient with me and, if I don’t want help and have the time, I, simply, signal for people to wait, and, most of the time, they do. 

When I get frustrated at not being able to think straight, I tend to snap. When I used to panic because of that trapped feeling, I’d fly off the handle to the point where I was scaring myself.

If I’m having more trouble communicating than usual, it’s become an indication that I need sustenance or sleep. Sometimes, this happens without warning so I have to decline invitations, more often than not, or sit down randomly or make pit-stops if I’m not prepared.

5. What would you personally want to change about your therapy? Were there any exercises or techniques that helped more than others?

Through speech therapy, I was able learn what tools worked for me and what things I could use outside of therapy to further my progress. I was always happy with my speech therapy because I never felt like I hit a plateau. There are always ways to improve. Some days are better than others. I cried a lot out of frustration and embarrassment but all my therapists helped me push on through. 

As I said, Google and the thesaurus are very useful for me. Reading “unlocks” with little effort. Listening to music and watching movies or TV shows that I knew like the back of my hand, pre-stroke, make me recall even more. 

Anything to test my memory seems like therapy; like going to the art gallery and reminiscing about my favorite artists and their lives and techniques, or getting nostalgic about my knick-knacks (Who gave it to me? Where did I, or they, get it? Why is it significant?)

Writing (as I have said, in previous blogs) helps build my vocabulary back up. I, often, repeat myself, which I think, is okay. It forces me to think of “new” ways to say similar things; break out that handy thesaurus. 

“Words with Friends” is great for getting those gears turning. There are many other games that help broaden abilities in similar ways, such “Taboo” or “Bananagrams.”   

“Words with Friends” and “Bananagrams” are both reminiscent of “Scrabble” (another excellent therapeutic game), while “Taboo” made me realize that, even in describing something in a roundabout way, I can till get my point across, as the object of the game is to make someone guess a word or person without using other key words. 

So, battling aphasia, for me, once I wasn’t afraid anymore, has gotten to be (Dare I say it?), somewhat, enjoyable. 

“When first had the stroke, I couldn’t read or speak. Any messages I responded to were courtesy of my mom.

“Texting came easier then talking (it still is) but I couldn’t find the words to say exactly what I wanted to say. I called it ‘inability to make abstract thought.’

“Now, I, suddenly, have diarrhea of the mouth, as it were, via text. I can only assume that my speech is to follow.

“Watch out, people! I’m on my way to becoming whole again!” (Facebook: Mariah Rose, March 15, 2014.)

Apraxia, Coping, Effects

Apraxia: Effects and Coping

So, one good thing that came out of my stroke was my sister’s interest in pursuing a career in the medical field. She’s a senior in high school, studying nursing already. She’s doing a project on apraxia and asked me to be one of her sources.

“. . . it takes muscle coordination to talk or even swallow. Most stroke victims have to learn to swallow again because they simply forgot how. This ailment is called “apraxia.” The strength of the muscles is there but the brain can’t remember how to perform the task; which order the muscles need to move in.” (Mariah Rose,, Memory Lost, Memory Found, Repeat.)

Below are some questions I answered for Dana’s project.

1. What emotions come along with apraxia?

Frustration, confusion, feeling defeated, and taking pleasure in little victories.

2. How have you overcome these emotions?

I’ve had to learn to be patient and use whatever resources I can to communicate. For example, most people know by now about my speech ailments and that, if giving enough time, I’ll correct myself or ask for help if I WANT it. I’ve chosen to be open about whatever frustrates and confuses me and not try to hide, as much as it makes me want to duck and cover. 

3. Were there any medications that helped?

No. Actually, most hinder. I take Keppra, an anti-convulsant, and in the first hour or so after I take it, it slows my motor functions down, noticeably.

4. How does this complication effect the people around you?

I think, sometimes, people don’t understand me. When I’m frustrated, I get angry and embarrassed so I lash out. When I reach that state my condition is exasperated. The more angry and frustrated I become, the more I stutter and stumble over my words. I think, it’s gotten less frequent and severe over time but, a year and a half after my stroke, it’s still an issue.

5. What would you personally want to change about your therapy? Were there any exercises or techniques that helped more than others?

The therapy I received was immensely helpful. I wish I didn’t have to jump through hoops to get it. Even the TBI (traumatic brain injury) Waiver couldn’t keep me from getting discharged from all therapies (speech, occupational, and physical) before I was ready. So, what would I change about therapy? I want/wanted more. 

Therapy for apraxia has to do with regaining muscle memory. Exercises and techniques that are effective have do with repetition and breaking patterns once you get the hang of said patterns. It can be very confusing. 

With speech therapy my therapists broke down sounds that make up words for me and, then, we’d practice those sounds. I remember, sound blends (“fl-,” “sm-,” “sn-,” “bl-,” “pr-,” etc.), the “f” sound, and the hard “k” being some the toughest to grasp. Reading aloud helps a lot. If I know a word and am having trouble splitting it out, I’ll use my phone to bring it up (dictionary, notes, auto-correct, etc.). Seeing it in print, helps jog my memory on how to formulate the word.

Occupational and physical therapy are less complicated, I think. They still involve breaking down gross motor movement into fine motor movement and practice, practice, practice but, I think, no movement can compare with the complexity of the face’s and its attachments (speech: tongue, swallowing: throat, etc.). 

Stretching and maintaining range of motion in whatever way possible helps, generally, with movement. Exercises include anything involving, again, repetitive motion.

I find, if I mentally prepare and take my time with any therapeutic activities, I’m rather successful. When I get flustered everything gets worse; one step forward, two steps back. I’m learning, when that happens, still, to regroup, shake it off, and try again.    

Adapt, Rebuild, Regroup


It’s been over a month since I last blogged. I needed a break. I needed to process, to reflect on, what I was typing about.

March is Brain Injury Awareness Month so I thought it’s as good a time as any to resume writing again. I’m not gonna lie, having a brain injury sucks but it’s eye-opening too, whether your ready for the swift kick in the ass or not.

I’m reminded of a quote from a film where the main character describes the afterlife, or purgatory: “Everything’s the same [as life] here, just a little worse.” (Zia/Patrick Fugit, Wristcutters: A Love Story, 2006.) 

Life went on (business as usual) for most people, after I survived a major stroke, whereas my life, I felt, at the time, all-of-a-sudden . . . stopped. Having a traumatic brain injury, sometimes, feels like my purgatory. When things are good, I’m on cloud nine. When they seem bleak, I feel like I’ve never felt so low.

“. . . When [things are] good,

[They are] very, very good.

But when [they are] bad, [they are] horrid.”

(The Little Girl With A Curl, “The Real Mother Goose,” 1916.)

These extremes are like a roller-coaster of emotions every day. A year and a half later, I still have trouble not feeling like a burden to those who even WANT to help me. Yeah, I can’t get around as well as I used to, but, then, I think of those who are less fortunate than me. I feel like I have no right complain. I don’t have migraines or suffer from chronic pain. I get frustrated at only having the used of one hand/arm and get embarrassed because of my limp and speech impediment but I still have my wits about me. My memory loss could be a lot worse. When I get tired or lack energy, in general, I, sometimes, can’t help but feel betrayed by my body. I have a lot of resources and people who look out for me and, sometimes, I feel remorse for those in similar situations who have less that me. I’m told all that’s called, “survivor’s guilt.” (’t%20Talk%20About.pdf, The Brain Tumor Society, 2001-2008.)

“It’s a cycle.

You’re miserable.

Then motivated.

Then bored.

Then lost.

And then miserable again.

I think I’m looking less than a year for recovery at this point.

I think it’ll go by fast.

I hope so.

I hope to look back on this year as just a hiccup in my life; to look at it as something that made me stronger and move on.”

(Facebook: Mariah Rose, January 1st, 2014)

When I realized I was coming up to the one-year anniversary of my stroke, it dawned on me that things were more serious than I thought. I was nowhere near back to my “old self.” I had tried to convince myself and others, that “I” was in this body somewhere, I just needed a chance to recover and I’d be good as new.

The truth is I have changed. However, you know what they say, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” (Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr, 1808-1890.) The more I beat myself up and the more I chose to be stubborn, the more I felt guilty and like I wasn’t doing enough. I’ve always been my own worst enemy.

I tried to ease my guilt and depression by having a, sort of, party for my “Brainniversary” that turned into a fundraiser.

“I, Mariah Rose, had a stroke, almost, a year ago. Without the love and support from my friends, family, and people I’ve met along the way (even people I don’t know), I don’t know where I’d be.

“To celebrate my ‘Brainniversary,’ which is on October 5th, I’m hosting an event at  Monty’s Krown to raise funding for the Happiness House Foundation in honor of the support I’ve received.

“When choosing an organization to donate to, I looked at places that are local, not-for-profit, and that I’m not affiliated with or will work with directly in the future.

“Happiness House Foundation ‘raise[s] and generate[s] funds that will promote, support and augment the continuation of long-term services . . . for people with disabilities’ of all ages, including adults who have sustained Traumatic Brain Injuries (TBIs) like I have. The adult programs are located in Canandaigua, NY. They, also, have children’s programs there and in Geneva.”

It was an all-around success. WE raised $2700. Not bad for small-time. The high from giving and being surrounded by so much love was incomparable but, unfortunately, didn’t last long.

I’ve found that most emotions are fleeting. If you dwell on negative ones, it’s easy to spiral downward . . . so easy.

I don’t remember when, exactly, I decided to take charge of what I could and start asking questions that I was afraid to know the real answers to: the ROOT of who I really am. It hurts but I’d rather live life the hard way than to live it oblivious or naive. More importantly, I’m learning how to be content living in the now, while still working on attainable goals. That means defining what happiness is for me (because it’s all relative) and adapting my life to suit that definition. It’s all about learning about my “new self” and sticking to my guns.

It can be confusing because the line is a bit burry between my “true nature” and my new brain-injured self. I’ve been analyzing my multiple selves (past, present, brain-injured, etc.) and asking, “Would I have reacted this way before?” I keep finding (I think) that my instincts are similar, just exaggerated.

Some things I can blame on being “strokey.” Some things, I know for a fact, are just the way I am. I choose to take ownership of my blessings and curses and manage them in the way I can, doing my best. I’ve been dealt some shit hands in my life but the trick is to play those cards. NEVER FOLD. Sometimes, you lose big but you have to play to WIN.

I’ve been given a second chance. Yeah, I still grieve over the shoulda, coulda, wouldas, (I’m human after all) but through past-life experiences I can regroup and manage with support.

Now, I see my Brainniversary as my “new birthday” because it was the “death” of my past-self. When I realized what had happened to me on October 5th, 2013, it was surreal. I, even, went through the grieving process; totally textbook-like.

  • Denial, numbness, and shock: I think, at first, people around me, where more upset that I had a stroke, than I was. I didn’t grasp (as mentioned previously) how serious it was.
  • Bargaining: I still catch myself wondering what I could have done differently to prevent it from ever happening but my logical side squashes that sort of thinking because it’s of no use thinking about what could have been. It’s over. The worst part is over.
  • Depression: “I want you to think about something. I was going places. I was traveling. I was networking. I spent years honing a craft. I spent seven years working up to something only to have it taken away from me in one fell swoop. I’m okay, considering, and I promise you I’ll get back to it but I hope that you never have to know what that feels like.” (Facebook: Mariah Rose, February 5th, 2014.)

“I think I only share about 50% of the emotional roller-coaster I go through on a day-to-day basis and I’m going to keep it        that way. Sometimes, I’m sick of appearing to keep it together.” (Facebook: Mariah Rose, March 16, 2014.)

  • Anger: “I hate, hate, hate when people don’t know that I had a stroke, like, 8 months ago? I catches me off guard as much as it catches them off guard, ya know? So, feel free to throw out as much gossip as you see fit and I’ll cross bridges when I come to them because I have the balls to say something to your face if I feel so inclined.” (Facebook: Mariah Rose, May 8th, 2014.)

“Sometimes, I want to chop my right arm off with a machete.” (Facebook: Mariah Rose, May 23rd, 2014.)

“Don’t waste your energy on pity for me. I don’t want it.

“I’m not sharing my experience with you because I want you to feel sorry for me. I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again, I’m doing this because if I’m forthright with everything I’m going through, I won’t have to repeat myself as much and venting is, I think, better for my recovery than shutting down.

“And another thing, I had brain surgery, less than, a year ago. I’m not okay but I’m trying the best I can to get there. I’m not at the top of my game but I’m climbing steadily upwards.

“I’m trying.

“If you can’t handle the heat, stay out of the kitchen and get the fuck out of my way.”

(Facebook: Mariah Rose, June 13th, 2014.)

  • Acceptance: Adapt. Rebuild. I have the ability, resources, and know-how to modify what I’m discontented with myself about. That’s pretty cool. Most people don’t experience that opportunity. As unlucky as I’ve been, I’m quite lucky too. (Coping with Grief,

Although I feel like I’m coming out the other side and the roller-coaster rides are less severe, I still go through that cycle. Just three or four days ago, I journaled, simply, “I have abandonment issues. Now, leave me alone.” But, like I was saying, “most emotions are fleeting,” especially the negative ones. Just getting how I’m feeling out, instead of bottling it up or ignoring it like I used to, is cathartic. Acknowledging feelings is the way to go. It’s like ripping off a bandaid.

Looking at what makes me content moment-to-moment, again, I realize that I’m almost there.

  • Decompression time: My mental state, I’ve realized, lately, depends on this so it’s become a priority.
  • My own space: I started staying in my own apartment about a week and a half ago. It is so liberating. It was available February 1st but I was so nervous about it! It felt like when I left home for the first time for college and that didn’t go so well. That was 12 years ago. After a month of procrastination and pep-talks from my mom, head-shrinker, friends, etc. I was like, “Why didn’t I do this sooner!” . . . because baby steps.
  • Working out: My gym is only a mile away from my apartment and I treated myself to a new yoga mat for floor exercises and stretching.
  • Yoga
  • Feeling healthy (staying active, getting enough sleep, eating healthily, etc.)
  • Reading
  • Writing
  • Doing research
  • Being creative
  • Travel: I’ll plan a trip soon, methinks, now that my apartment is more like home.
  • Being around people I love, who love me back (First addressed in, BREAK the Cypher, January 5th, 2015.)

I’ve, also, been busy sharing through social media. I want to share my recovery, people who I find inspirational, and quotes that provide hope.

Some people who have brain injuries or are chronically ill or are their own worst enemy, stuff like that, feel alone in their struggles.

YOU are not alone. I am not alone. WE ARE NOT ALONE.

By putting words and adding hindsight to photos I’ve posted through my recovery, and sharing what’s helped me throughout it, I’m further coping with my guilt, grief, and depression. I know if just person is positively affected by what I post, the world will be that much more of a better place.

Facebook: You ARE NOT Alone: Recovery

Instagram: youarenotalone138

Twitter: yernotalone138

Tumblr: youarenotalone138

Mariah Rose’s Ramblings:

E-mail me if you want to comment on my “ramblings” but aren’t comfortable doing it publicly. I’d ask you not to abuse this gesture. I WILL NOT respond to inappropriate inquiries and I WILL NOT give out my phone number.

All these resources meant to help people, survivors and caregivers, alike.

I’m not a medical provider. I’m not a therapist of any kind. I’m just a survivor whose willing to share.