How a friendship may be affected by brain injury

(This text was written by an experience expert in collaboration with an expert)

For many people it is recognizable that when you are too tired, down or depressed or very sick from stimuli, you would rather withdraw than go ahead with that appointment at all costs.

After all, anyone who does go ahead with an appointment will have to pay for it. If you do go ahead with an appointment, it can feel like you are not yourself. We know many stories of people with brain injuries who then try to act well during the appointment, only to completely collapse afterwards. That collapse afterwards is not seen by the person who came to visit.

Quote: I try to pretend that I am still who I always was. It is a whole process to learn to deal with "a new battery."

If thinking is difficult, half the conversation passes you by, you have lost the thread of the conversation, you cannot find the words, you feel like crying rather than laughing, you feel clumsy because your coordination is less that day, then one can feel very unhappy.

Unexpected circumstances prior to an appointment can make someone with an injury so tired that everything goes too fast for the brain.
The other person talks too fast, the journey is too exhausting or it is impossible to be a good host/hostess.

Actually, everyone should know that fatigue and overall functioning can vary greatly in people with brain injuries.
Most people with brain injuries therefore prefer to make appointments that they can cancel at the last minute if necessary.

f the person with brain injury has a partner, the partner also has to make sacrifices or the partner has to be able to go out to continue seeing friends.

In our society, everyone has a busy schedule. How can the other person keep another slot open in their schedule if you have to cancel an appointment twice in a row?

Maybe that's why you should pick three options and plan REST for the days before and after the appointment.

But what's it like when you can't meet each other one-on-one, but people (adults or children) always come along? Most people with brain injuries get stressed just by thinking that they'll be 'too busy'.

The overview is gone. There are too many signals and stimuli that you have to focus on. Does everyone have something to drink?

Did I offer something to eat that I bought especially for the occasion? The concentration disorder and lack of overview and inability to plan then play an extra role. People who are sensitive to stimuli can no longer think and certainly not follow the conversation.

What is it like when people come unexpectedly? Or call unexpectedly and say that they want to come by that day, alone or with a number of people? Most people with brain damage will panic.

The brain tries to activate the helicopter view, to create an overview, which is necessary to let such a quick appointment go ahead. The brain activates all brain structures at the same time, which leads to an overload (comparable to a fuse box that trips). The executive functions refuse to function.

It is not unwillingness, but powerlessness.

Brain injury and unexpected appointments do not go well together.
Brain injury and fixed appointments do not go well together.

Those who want to maintain the friendship will want to seek one-on-one contact and have the option to cancel. It is not the friendship that is the problem, but the brain injury.
Our advice is to write a letter to the friends in which you try to explain your limitations clearly. Also explain what kind of reaction you hope for. Be open and clear with your friends.

Does the friendship change? Or do the conditions for maintaining the friendship change?

Quote:
"People often think I exaggerate, but actually the opposite happens: I try to hold on at my own expense."

Michaela gives us an insight into the emotions and thoughts of how friendships can change due to brain damage

Losses
One by one they fall away: my friends and acquaintances. Six years ago, at the age of 39, I was struck by brain damage. With quite a few residual symptoms, I am now at home, unable to work.

My friends are people with ‘fast lives’ and overcrowded schedules.
I am actually always tired, suffer from dizziness and balance problems. I constantly feel seasick. I cannot cope with environmental stimuli, I am very quickly overstimulated. Noise and crowds in particular exhaust me. Furthermore, I have problems with
attention, concentration and responding to unexpected events.

This means that contact with me is never spontaneous or informal. Shopping or exercising together is no longer possible. Even for a walk, I have to concentrate on walking and cannot catch up at the same time.

Dinners, the pub, a birthday all provide too many stimuli. I can no longer handle that. I can no longer drive a car and travelling is very strenuous. Anyone who wants to see me will have to come to me.

And if someone wants to come over, there are a few conditions:

• Come alone, I quickly lose track in conversations with multiple people.
  
• Arrive at the agreed time, my energy is so limited that I have a strict daily schedule with many rest periods. If the schedule changes, I often suffer from it for several days.
  
• Do not stay longer than an hour and a half. It may not be immediately noticeable, but my energy is really gone after an hour and a half. If I cross that line, I will spend the rest of the day in bed, overstimulated, confused, with a headache and feeling nauseous.

When you add it all up, friends and acquaintances have to make a lot of effort to see me. Effort for someone with whom they no longer have much in common. And the reverse is just as true. Every appointment requires enormous concentration from me and costs mountains of energy. While I also feel that we share little anymore. It is logical that we meet less and less. The distance feels great. The only thing that still binds us are the shared memories.

Add to that the fact that our society (and therefore also my friends, and also myself before I had my stroke) is strongly focused on success and the feasibility of life. My life is no longer feasible. My injury remains. With all the limitations that come with it. We (my friends and I) seem to live in two parallel realities.

When I am sad, it is not so much about the fading away of contacts and friendships. I grieve over the loss of 'how my life and friendships could have been, if I had not suffered a brain injury'.