Coming Out of Hiding Through Writing

Originally posted in 2012 — Revisited in 2025

I’ve decided to start a blog. It’s taken me years to say that out loud. Every time I considered it, I’d retreat with a quiet “Yikes!”—because blogging felt like stepping onto a stage. And I’m an introvert of the highest order. There’s a story about me being born in a closet (literally), and another about being on stage at age five. I’ll share those in time.

But here I am, out of hiding. Because something beautiful has come into the world—a book. And like any birth, it deserves to be acknowledged, celebrated, and gently placed in the arms of others.

My book, A Life Interrupted: Living with Brain Injury, was published by the wonderful Peggy Elam, founder of Pearlsong Press. It arrived early—due October 1, 2012, but born on September 16th. And with its arrival, I felt the nudge to begin sharing more of my story.

It all began with a car accident. I hit my head hard on the dashboard, resulting in a traumatic brain injury. My family didn’t know if I’d survive—or if I’d ever be myself again. I was in a coma for five days, then spent ten days in the ICU. When I finally began to heal, I realized I had lost something precious: my ability to write.

For a year and a half, I couldn’t bring myself to pick up a pen. I couldn’t pour even a jumble of words onto the page. And that terrified me. Writing had always been my way of making sense of life—of releasing thoughts and feelings from the tight spaces in my mind. People had told me I wrote poetically, though I wasn’t sure what that meant. It sounded lovely.

Eventually, I found a writing mentor—someone willing to work with a TBI survivor who used to write but couldn’t anymore. She gave me a gentle assignment: begin with the phrase “I reclaim.” Use images, sensory details, childhood memories (Tiny Tears dolls, anyone?), and metaphors if they came.

I misunderstood the directions—one of those brain injury moments—and began writing poems instead. First, I wrote about childhood. Then, slowly, the accident began to surface in my writing. Poetry became my lifeline. It was how I listened to myself. How I gave shape to the grief and the fragments of memory. And through my mentor’s presence, I found someone who could witness my pain and honor the part of me I feared was lost.

That’s how A Life Interrupted came to be. Not just a book—but a reclamation. A return. A quiet emergence from hiding.

#EmergingFromGrief #ALifeInterrupted #PoetryAfterTBI #ComingOutThroughWords