I’m Not As Smart As I Look
Categories: Living with Brain Injury
By Evelyn Anderson
Did the title make you do a double take? You’ve probably heard or even used the expression, “he’s not as dumb as he looks.” But for people with brain injuries like me, the above title has a bittersweet reality. Most of us do look fine, at least after some time has elapsed since the incident, injury, or illness. Unless there are visible physical signs of the injury, our family, friends, and business associates may well think that we are fully recovered.
Some persons with brain injury feel that people who say “You look great” really mean “You must be fine.” If there are no obvious signs, it is easy for people to assume that we have fully recovered. Certainly, it is easier than it would be to deal with, accept, adapt to, and understand the complex set of limitations each of us has. And to make it even messier, each person with a brain injury has a different limitation, or set of them, from every other person with brain injury. You cannot assume that you know what one person is like because you have known someone else with a brain injury. The plain truth is that it is just not that simple.
I have to admit that although I look pretty normal and can get around fine, “I’m not as smart as I look.” Oh, I don’t mean IQ. You can tell by reading this I can still think and express myself fairly well (that is a big blessing since I have a degree in journalism and 25 years of experience “before” my injury). My limitations are more subtle. They include processing information, finding a place to “put” something that I have learned so that I can retrieve it later, remembering things that I have heard but did not write down (like movie plots!), understanding directions or statements with several points, and remembering events that have happened recently. I also get physically disoriented easily, have poor coordination, and have the nasty complication of double vision.
Because my brain injury happened after I turned 50, many friends my age say things like, “Oh, I know what it is like to forget things. We’re getting older, you know.” They mean to show empathy, I imagine. But as I learned to remind them, brain injury is different. You lose abilities suddenly. You assume that you can do something because not long ago you could and now suddenly you cannot.
I “did” denial. Because I looked okay and knew that I was still bright, I returned to a high-stress, detail-intensive job a few months after my injury. I did not tell many people about my brain injury. I had some visible injuries, and it was easier for people to understand them. Besides, admitting a brain injury is difficult. It scares people and makes them think that you are worse off than you are, or that you cannot do the job.
So I lumbered along, doing the basics pretty well, but forgetting the details, forgetting to follow up, not crossing my T’s and dotting my I’s. Sometimes the errors were noticeable and expensive. I rationalized the errors to myself and others when I could. Sometimes other people would step in taking responsibility, and I let them. Some of my co-workers said that they could not rely on me to do my part of the job correctly or completely. I even tried to arrange an in-service presentation in the brain injury field for my co-workers. But perhaps since I was fairly successful in denying and covering up my brain injury, it was not deemed important. After all, I looked, acted, and talked “smart.”
I ended up applying for disability. To my surprise, (after all, I felt that I was not “that bad”), I was accepted. After 30 years of working, it is a major change to not work. Oh yes, retired people will tell you that the hours fill up quickly. There are many tasks, which have been put off and volunteer commitments that can now be made. But there is a perceived value in working for pay and real value of having a regular schedule, an assigned space, defined responsibilities, and frequent, meaningful contact with other people (and of course, a decent salary!).
Life for me is radically different from before. I have learned some things (often by doing just the opposite) that seem worth passing on:
Be open about your condition. Make it simple: “I have a brain injury. That means that I have some trouble remembering spoken information. Will you give me a minute to write that down?”
Be an educator. Doctors and others may not understand brain injury and may minimize your problem. Find a good neuropsychologist and have yourself tested. Use the results to prove you need services and/or support.
Compensate, compensate, compensate. Your brain cells will not heal or grow back, but the wondrous computer in your head has ways to get around some of what you used to do automatically. And there are lifesaving computer programs and notebook planners on the market. Many friends and co-workers will help if you give them specific information and suggestions. Talk to an occupational therapist and other professionals about ways to compensate for your particular type of injury.
Get to know and like the “new you.” You have lost some things, maybe a lot of things. Go ahead and feel bad about that; it is a real loss and you are entitled to grieve. But then evaluate who you are now: abilities, personality, and interests. Even if you are a bit older, think of yourself as just “graduating” and decide what you can do and want to do with your life.
Be patient with yourself. Do not try and rush back to your old life, even if there are financial or personal pressures to do so. You may have to develop a slower pace.
Learn to work with the system. Find out as much as you can about rehabilitation agencies, medical services, employment and financial supports, legal services, or whatever else applies in your situation. Keep calling and writing letters (or appeals, if you think that you are being treated unfairly). The squeaky wheel does get the grease.
Find a support group. You’ll be amazed at how good it feels to hear from someone who has had a similar experience, feeling, or frustration as yours. The Brain Injury Association of America has state affiliates with many different types of support groups. Do not be afraid to shop around (I tried three before settling on one).
I may not be as “smart” as I look, but I do not have to be overwhelmed by limitations. People can be understanding if I am willing to be honest about my situation. I can be “smart” to accept what I am today and to take control by looking for support wherever I can find it.
This article originally appeared in a previous edition of THE Challenge!
