Regrets.

Thoughts, this broken mind still thinks thoughts, knows that it is silly to keep high school fresh on the mind from so long ago.

It was 20 years ago; ok- 18…

High school and the do overs that only exist in imaginations.

Panic attacks, thinking of life long ago, half a lifetime ago, that has long surpassed. Long passed, but held onto. Desiring a release but unable to let go.  So long ago that it shouldn’t matter. As if from another life, another person, but its still me.  It always was me. I wish they would have known

A brain injury that remembers all, yet is helpless to change anything. Do I want a change? Perhaps not a life altering change, but a do over of the year directly after.

It’s just regrets. Things that should be over. Regrets like not getting that note from my guidence counselor in high school giving the reason for my lateness to class that one day.  The hardest day of my social life.  Or one of the hardest days.   Does it even matter?

And then I think what’s the point? What’s the point in even having a brain injury if you can still remember crappy times like this perfectly. Whats the point?

Ironic.

Learning experience.  Ha- all a learning experience. 

I survived.  I overcame.  I went beyond expectations, graduating hs, (putting up with all the crap that came along with it post-accident) graduating LONGWOOD COLLEGE; working for 9 years.  Life is great!

Having a great little family: Matt, Chazz and me

I’ll wipe away the tears that come along when thinking of this time in my life, to go to sleep with a clear head and have good dreams.  Hopefully!

An attempt at a poem. A morbid non logical poem, for NaBloPoMo; and this was written on Monday night/tuesday morning, so as to qualify in “every day in November”

<a href="http://www.nablopomo.com"><img src="https://www.blogher.com/files/NaBloPoMo_2015.jpg" alt="NaBloPoMo November 2015" height="255" width="298"></a>