12 - Summer

(Want to listen to this post instead??  This one is particularly embarrassing for me should you listen instead of read...so you should probably listen, lol.  For audio, click here)

I have a confession to make.  It’s a risky thing to share.  It may change your level of respect for me.  Ok…Here I go…

I LOVE the High School Musical movie series!!

If you’re not familiar with these films, let me take a moment to bring you into the world of peppy, fun for the whole family, coming-of-age movie song and dance…

The first High School Musical came out as a made for TV movie.  It was the story of two teenagers who met on a cruise during Christmas vacation.  They were forced - nay, DESTINED - to sing a karaoke song together.  Hearing each other’s singing voices ignited a spark between them similar to the sparks of fireworks overhead the cruise ship bringing in a new year - nay, A NEW BEGINNING - of musical high school romance.  The story in the series followed these two protagonists as they had to break not only their social stereotypes as basketball jock and straight-A nerdy science club girl, but also school rules in order to rise above the preconceived norm of secondary school musical theatre fame.  A cast of classic American high school archetypes, upbeat songs, creative choreography, an unrealistic amount of smiling and a general feel good moral to the story made these movies our generation’s wholesome version of Grease.

Although the target population for these movies was likely young families and preteens (indeed, I’m sure the face of the male lead plastered such surfaces as bedroom walls, locker doors and notebook coverings of many a middle-schooler), when the third movie came out, the last of the series and the only to be released in movie theatres, 20-something year-old me was there, right in the thick of the pre-pubescent fans, cheering and bobbing along in my movie theatre seat on opening night…

That was over 10 years ago when I was introduced to the magic of High School Musical.  I haven’t seen any of these films in years, but you can still find the soundtrack on my iPod and I can still sing along to some of the songs - some? Nay, ALL OF THEM.

I typically watched these movies in the summer.  The upbeat happy-go-lucky songs were a nice addition to my summer soundtrack.  In particular, the opening song to the second movie in the series has the following undeniable lyrics:

What time is it?

Summer time!

It’s our vacation.

What time is it?

Party time!

That’s right, say it loud!

What time is it?

The time of our lives.

Anticipation!

What time is it?

Summer time! 

School’s out, scream and shout!

This opening number, conveying the hyper-excitement of leaving school and making summer plans in flash mob format has essentially become my summer solstice anthem.  Nothing says excitement for summer like singing and dancing in the sunshine with a bright-eyed, kid-like perma-smile on your face, communicating your summer feelings through interpretive body movements… Fuck selfies on social media!  Perfectly executed choreography, complete with a dance routine involving coordinated basketball dribbling is how it’s done, amiright??

And yet, nothing has ever squashed that bright-eyed, kid-like spirit and perma-smile like the effects of my post concussion syndrome in the summer (oooo…plot twist…).

My summers as a kid were spent riding my bike, playing hide and go seek in the dark, playing midnight street hockey and going to other people’s cottages, amongst other kid-like imaginative summer activities.  When I got older, it wasn’t unusual for the phone to ring and on the other end hear a friend say “I’m on my way to get us Slurpees then I’m picking you up to go to the beach.”  I started rock climbing as a teenager, then got into camping.  As an adult, I added hiking with Bob and started swimming more outdoors.  When I moved to a new city, summer exploring of neighbourhoods and festivals became a weekly routine.  Pre-concussion, I once went to three separate summer festivals all in one day!

However, my summers these past three years have been extraordinarily different and incredibly less active as a result of the brain injury.  For example, last month, after resting at home most of the day, I went out and saw a short play.  I then managed one popular outdoor food festival for about 10 minutes before the crowds, sounds, smells and visual stimuli started to make me feel unwell.  At the beginning of this month I was able to spend one afternoon at a beach - this was the first time I’d been to a beach in three years!  I paid for it a bit when I got home - I almost needed help raising my fork to my mouth eating dinner.  My brain and body were so exhausted that eating even the most delicious meal was an arduous task…

I don’t want to undermine these recent summer activity achievements.  Hell, I went to a beach and even swam while I was there!  That’s epic for me!  But needless to say, I now find the summers a bit lacklustre and rather challenging.

All seasons have their challenges: There’s a lot of hustle and bustle of people frantically getting back into their routine in the fall.  The winter where I am can be quite cold, dark and naturally isolating.  The fluctuating temperatures in the spring can cause lots of melting snow to turn into sheets of ice covering walkways, tremendously increasing my risk of falling and hitting my head again.

But when it comes to summer, not only are there actual challenges due to the elements, it’s also maybe the time of year when I feel the strongest sense of FOMO: fear of missing out.  Well…maybe not so much fear as depression about missing out…DAMO?  Hmmm…I somehow don’t see that hashtag trending… Regardless of hashtags, let me elaborate on what I mean…

Regarding the elements, more sunshine means longer days, which may mean more hours of bright light to be sensitive to and potentially fewer hours of good sleep needed for my brain’s recovery.  The heat and humidity can make anyone fatigued.  Now take that fatigue and multiply it several factors - I get exhaustion, more headaches, more risk of dehydration, which in turn can lead to more exhaustion, more headaches… 

Depending where you live, more people may be out doing more things in the summer.  This is definitely true where I am.  There are loads of festivals and events, which means more crowds, more visual stimulation and louder noises.  This can trigger my anxiety.  I find this particularly hard because I desperately want to go out.  Though when I do try to go out, I sometimes have a hard time not becoming overstimulated.  I can then spend the following days paying for it, beating myself up for having done too much while other people share with me that I “should have known better.”  But if I don’t try to go out, my other option is to stay home in isolation.  This, however, isn’t so great for my mental health.  Staying home, unable to do much of anything, I’m alone with my broken brain’s thoughts.  I end up dwelling on the fact that I’m missing out on all the fun things other people are doing and sharing.  Fuck selfies on social media, amiright??

And then I grieve.  Grieve the summers I used to have.  Grieve the friends I used to have.  Grieve the life I used to have.  Summer can hurt in more ways than one (oooo…the plot thickens…).

I had a particularly hard summer last year.  I had a few low points and setbacks after being burnt out trying to finish a work project, eventually conceding to the fact that I had to stop working.  At the same time, I was experiencing a bit of “error” in the trial and error process that was adjusting my treatment plan.  One of the setbacks was distinguishably miserable - a perfect example of the woes I described above…

For one weekend, there was this unique public entertainment/art installation.  It drew a lot of crowds.  I was feeling pretty decent, so I felt capable of checking it out as it was on my way to my regular improv get together.  Now, this may sound a little silly, but I was SO ECSTATIC to be part of that large crowd!  Not only did I get to see the attraction (and take my own fucking selfies for social media), but I got to participate in a shared experience - it felt like I was actually a part of something.  And the next day, when people would be talking about it, not only, for once, would I know about that something that happened outside the four walls of my apartment, but I’d get to contribute to the conversation with my own lived perspective.  But, of course, it didn’t turn out as glorious as that…

When I left the crowd and continued on my walk to improv, I started to feel it - the difficulty concentrating, the slight dizziness as if my brain’s perception of my body’s movements was delayed… “This sometimes happens,” I thought.  “When I get to improv, I just need to take a moment in a dark quiet room to rest so that my brain can relax before jumping into the activities.”  And I did take a rest, but my brain did not relax.  The symptoms got worse.  I left without even one good improv laugh and I fumbled my way home.

I remember that trip home being SO DAMN HARD.  The dizziness got worse and I was having trouble walking.  I had a panic attack on the way.  I couldn’t stop crying.  Panicking, confused and in pain, I wasn’t convinced that I was able to get myself home.  In that moment, desperate to get home and snuggle with my dog, Bob, I came up with this:

I will feel good.  This will pass.

I will feel good.  This will pass.

I will feel good.  This will pass.

I will feel good.  This will pass…

I must have been quite the sight, though I don’t know if anyone saw me.  If they did, then classic bystander effect because no one came to my aid as I was stumbling, frantically sobbing, gasping for air, between each gasp repeating the above mantra “I will feel good.  This will pass.”

Spoiler: I did make it home.  I did snuggle with Bob and that misery did, in fact, eventually pass.

In a previous blog post I mentioned something about mantras and how I wasn’t necessarily for or against them.  However, this mantra that I had made up on that perilous journey home has been one phrase I have repeated to myself often.  It seems to do me a lot of good.  In fact, being more of a visual person, I wrote the “I will feel good” portion in big letters on paper, one word per page, and posted it up on my living room wall.  When a good friend of mine came over and saw this, they made the final adjustment to the mantra by suggesting I drop the “will”: “Why put the expectation in the future?  Say you feel good now and start experiencing it now.”  This sentiment was also echoed by my psychologist.  My mantra was complete.

I left these words up on my wall for months.  I even brought the pages with me when Bob and I visited back home for the holidays in December.

And what did I do with the “will”?  I put it on the wall beside my bed.  Every day, when I went to bed and when I woke up, it represented the will I have to keep going; to keep improving my quality of life regardless of what I can and cannot do.

Like the male lead in High School Musical 2 sings in the angry song and dance scene that always makes me cackle with joy (it’s our generation’s version of Kevin Bacon’s angry dance in Footloose, after all):

I’m not gonna stop

That’s who I am

I’ll give it all I got

That is my plan

Turn my life around

Today is the day

You can bet on it, bet on it

Bet on it, bet on me.

It’s hard not only accepting that my summers might always be different from how they were before, or even different compared to how others around me experience these months.  It’s also hard accepting that elements of the summer, for me, seem to actually aggravate my syndrome.  However, one of the things I’ve noticed since I’ve been repeating to myself this mantra of “I feel good,” is this: I may have weeks when I have fewer “good” days than “bad,” but even on the “bad” days, there are still moments when I feel good.  Like the fuzzy feeling I get taking in the colours of the sky when the sun sets.  Or the joy I feel when Bob leaps high off the ground to catch his soaring bouncy ball (sorry, did I say joy?  I also meant to say extreme dog owner pride…).  Or the relief I feel when I realize my isolation prevents me from hearing the hit pop song of the summer being played everywhere, relentlessly, until I want to rip my ears out… For me, when I focus on and recognize these good moments, even if they have sometimes been few and fleeting, the better I seem able to deal with the bad ones - the less power misery has over me.

Like the whole cast sings in the finale of High School Musical 2:

It’s not about the future.

It’s not about the past.

It’s making every single day last and last and last…

OR, like in the third song of the same movie, when the protagonists are trying to convince everyone else that their shitty summer jobs aren’t so shitty: 

We’ve got to work, work

Work this out

We’ll make things right

The sun will shine

If we work, work

There’ll be no doubt

If we all come together

We can work this out…

OR, like in the second last song of the same movie, Everyday, which is essentially a duet of high school summer romance:

Together we will celebrate

Oh, everyday

We’re taking it back

We’re doing it here together!

It's better like that

And stronger now than ever!

We’re not gonna lose

‘Cause we get to choose

That’s how it's gonna be!

OR…

Ok…I’ll stop 😉

My point is that my summer fun may not be what I’ve come to expect.  But even on the shitty days, there’s sure to be some summer fun to be had for everybody, everyday! (oooo…the plot turned around to a happy ending with a moral…just like your favourite fun for the whole family film series 😆 )

Cheers to brain health in the summer.

- Krystal