Missing Memories and My New Set of Wheels
“They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Personally, I think whoever coined that phrase never had to navigate a shag-pile carpet in a wheelchair while trying to remember whether they actually liked olives, or if that was just a pre-aneurysm personality trait.” If my life were a car, it would be a vintage Land Rover dropped from a Hercules transport plane and then declared “probably stress” by the mechanic. Welcome to my world: a whirlwind of military-grade PTSD, Fibromyalgia, Functional Neurological Disorder (FND), and the aftermath of a ruptured brain aneurysm that decided to delete fourteen years of my life like a bored teenager clearing browser history. The Great Identity Heist Living with a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) is like waking up halfway through a film. You are the lead actor, but you have forgotten all your lines and the script is written in Cantonese. Fourteen years are gone. Vanished. Weddings, birthdays, friendships, arguments, entire chapters of life that eve...