Ambushed. I get that feeling.

Adrenal system on high, provoking fight or flight surges. Anger a defense, and combination with frustration at inabilities.

Mix in an overwhelm of the senses, bright lights, many sounds or raised/multiple voices and I'm snarling or in tears. Sometimes both.

Have to breath, pull focus, and leave.

People can be callous and the world is harsh. Curtains closed at home is better.

SweetC, I find light work for the brain is good, helping make connections we need in sections that were strong before, but if I work too long I'll feel rubish for a couple of days. Regular breaks are good. How are you finding thngs?

Hockey, you make me glad I'm single. I suppose it must be difficult to see us change, but I wish that people would just accept and not compare. I have little patience with that, your husband sounds like he is intelligent why can he not understand that after your TBI you have less processing ability. Your intelligence remains, as do you, but you need to walk away and have the time to process//reason. That's just physics, without the emotional context.

One of the things I have always been conerned with, and tried to minimise, is the effect on my son. Children cannot undertand in the way that adults can and it must be difficult. Must be even more difficult when you through pre-teen hormones into the mix.

Have you tried going back to basics? Having a chat, you have changed, she is changing. Give her more respect and privacy and ask for the same in return. Have times/places/situations which are each your own. Time for sharing. Less about regulation and punishment, more about a more grown up, happy relationship. Perhaps encourage her to pursue an activty outside of the home, an interest of her own you can offer encouragement with.

My 6yo son has been acting up a little so we're using the calender for a reward chart again. Three smiley faces equals treats inc advent calender the next day. A sad face loses a treat. Stern face a warning. He's outgrown his bed so we're using it as an oportunity to update his room. He is, he informs me, a big boy now. (aka the Scorpion King who lives in a volcano)

In my house we have hulk mummy who sends my son running...for his swrod and sheild ready to battle.Or sometimes we are werewolves a la wolfblood. The absurdity and charm usually works a trick.

Hello comrades- misery really does love company, as sad as it sounds.

Ash used the perfect term- ambushed. I have unprecedented empathy for PTSD victims.

Friday was really bad for me. My office relocation was Thurs and the new space is nice and less traffic, but has more glare and a cold noisy airhandler. Add dizziness & nausea from turning in my chair organizing files-then driving home in the dark,picking up ingredients for pizza, only to find cozy napping teen daughters on each couch, dirty dishes in the sink, etc etc. Not the first time, nor will it be the last.

I have to admit that put me over the edge. Throwing things and slamming doors didn't help-- I will do my best to remember that. Not a proud moment. Pizza got postponed.

Just put some earplugs in my purse after thinking back to Saturday's sensory overload shopping. It pretty much counteracted my optimism after the morning's vision therapy session for my half-'dead' left eye.

We did end the weekend on a good note, choosing and cutting our tree. Between one daughter on crutches and my state, it was a real challenge. As often happens the tree seemed smaller at the farm...it's 12' tall...oops.
Stringing lights with vertigo is hopefully not something to be repeated next year!

Wishing you all a kind and gentle Monday,
Grace