Earlier this week, I tried to write about the neuroplasticity I am going through. I tried to write about what neuroplasticity means to me. And, why I can tolerate my brain changing right now which is both good and difficult.
My words were hard for even me to understand. And my writing was awkward, at best.
So I stopped writing, saved the draft, and waited for inspiration.
Friday, I went to the Texas Brain Injury Alliance Conference in a suburb outside of Austin.
During the lunch time session, I listened to a talk by Maegan Morrow, a music therapist at TIRR Hospital in Houston. As a music therapist, she is often able to help people who have difficulty finding speech or who cannot talk find a way to talk through music. So she is a miracle maker for some.
During her talk, she let the following words roll off her tongue.
Neuroplasticity = Hope.
When she said it, I knew she had put it together for me. I knew that that she had just given me the title for my blog post this week.
I also knew that once I started with that title, I would be able to write about what neuroplasticity means to me, in a way that wasn’t awkward!
When I talked with Maegan afterwards, she told me that she had never quite put neuroplasticity and hope together that way before either.
So it was a first for her, and it was exactly the phrasing that I needed to hear.
Neuroplasticity = Hope.
Neuroplasticity is the hope that my brain will change for the better than keeps me going.
I have experienced neuroplasticity. I know my brain can change.
And I know my brain can change long after 2 years, which is when my doctors told me that my brain would not be able to change any longer.
My brain has been changing for going on 17 years now post-injury.
So for me, neuroplasticity = Hope.
When I experience neuroplasticity, it brings me hope.
It also brings me hope when I am not yet experiencing neuroplasticity. And, that hope helps keep me going. The hope fuels my optimism.
It brings me hope that I will continue to experience periods of neuroplasticity in the future. In other words, that my brain will get better and better. Not just better once, but better and better.
And better and better is a great positive cycle to have in one’s life, for anyone.
And, especially when I have a lot of plans of what I would like to accomplish to help others with brain injury learn get the help they need to live meaningful and full lives.
I have been diagnosed with schizophrenia for about 30 years. During the first 10 years I thought I was hopeless; I am now 55 and live a dign and, yes, happy life. I enjoy reading, running and meditating. I believe that, during my daily meditations, I succeed in quieting my brain: I think this occurs when the different parts of my nervous system are in harmony: integration. I hope that, with persistence, I may carry that integration to my daily life…it seems to work!
Thank you for your blog