3 Hard Things About Brain Injury

In an interview, someone asked me, “What’s the hardest thing about living with a brain injury?”

I paused. “An excellent question,” I said. And it truly was—because in eleven years, no one had ever asked me that. At least, not that I can remember.

The truth is, I look and sound so good that most people assume I’m perfectly fine. Normal. Whole. But what they don’t see is how hard some things still are for me.

My family, for instance, expects I’ll show up to big gatherings like I always did. That I’ll travel like I used to. They don’t realize how overstimulation affects my nervous system—how it drains me, disrupts my sleep, and shifts my mood into places that aren’t fun. Large gatherings rev up my system when it’s already running too high. They can’t see inside my brain. They expect me to do what they’re doing, because I look good. And because they love me.

That was my answer in the moment. But if you asked me today—or tomorrow—it might be something else entirely.

So here 3 hard things about brain injury:

1. Making Decisions: My confidence has shrunk to low tide, with only rare high tides. My processor got whacked. Now, remembering, weighing options, and thinking through consequences feels like climbing a mountain with fogged glasses. I look back at decisions I’ve made post-injury and cringe. “How did I make that choice?” I wonder. Every decision feels loaded with potential regret. I freeze. I ask my husband what he thinks. And while I’m grateful for his support, it makes me feel dependent—something I never used to be. Even this blog post? I’ve reread it more times than I care to admit.

   
   

2. Receptive Aphasia: It’s a big term for something painfully simple: not understanding. Misunderstanding questions. Struggling to follow movies, TV shows, or news stories. Asking for help to understand everyday English. It’s humiliating. And it chips away at my confidence in ways that are hard to explain.

   
   

3. Fear: Fear of stepping outside my comfort circle. It shrinks my world. And for someone who used to love a little adventure, that’s hard. Planning ahead to ease anxiety takes energy I don’t always have. But I try. I stretch gently. I keep my life simple.

So yes, it depends on the day. Some days, one thing is harder than the others. Some days, all three show up at once.

I live differently now. I stretch my circle gently. I try not to take on too much. I try not to stretch too wide. And I’m discovering that the hard things change with me — some easing, some returning, all teaching me something about who I am now. There’s more to explore, and I’ll keep unfolding it here.

Originally written in 2015 — Revisited in 2026