By Lynsey Calderwood
On the age of 14, Lynsey Calderwood suffered a disturbing mind damage that left her bodily unmarked yet destroyed her reminiscence. ward off into an it sounds as if nonsensical international of which she had no recollection. Lynsey spiralled downwards into melancholy and consuming issues as she turned socially ostracized. this is often the tale, in her personal phrases, of Lynsey's quest to find her id, and, finally, to come back to phrases together with her incapacity. She faces devastating setbacks and her feel of loss, grief and rage is recalled. braveness and perseverance, coupled together with her attractive experience of humour, see her via, and her story will be an proposal to somebody who has confronted comparable stumbling blocks.
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Extra resources for Cracked: Recovering After Traumatic Brain Injury
The Princess is a liar and she’s not my friend anymore; the Anorexic girl is getting worse, she’s in her bed most of the time and I’m only allowed to see her for half an hour each day;the Posh girl is away home, Giggles and the Hypochondriac don’t talk to anyone except each other; Hamsterboy doesn’t talk to anyone and the Vampire – well, I’d rather talk to four walls. Pip was all I had left. ‘Pi-ip,’ I called her as if she was a dog. ’ I wanted to take her home with me at the weekend. I don’t want to stay here but I don’t want to leave Pip with them.
On the outside I still looked like an average child, but I thought people would magically see inside where I couldn’t hide who I really was. I don’t know why but the home-help doesn’t come any more on a Wednesday. Did I do something wrong? Nobody tells me anything. I’ve been allocated another home-help. I like her, she is quirky and funny and talks about her grown up family. She is around fifty with dyed auburn hair and she wears Calvin Klein jeans. I still liked the other home-help better, though.
My parents have told me that dealing with the ‘loss’ of my memory felt ‘worse than a bereavement’. I often felt in the early days that it would’ve been easier if I’d just died. ’ There were old photographs of the other Lynsey and the sister all round the house but I made them take them all down. ‘She doesn’t like to look at herself,’ said the mother. ’ That’s because it’s not me. ’ The father sits, hunched over, hanging on the mother’s every word. ’ The psychologist woman had been trying to bring him into the conversation but his input only ever 50 The Mental Hospital, Rebellion + Bullying stretched as far a ‘yes,’ ‘no’ and random jerks with his head and shoulders.