As some of you know, I hit my head a few weeks ago. Hard. Enough to where I should have gone to the doctor, but didn’t, because being an at home, free-lance actor and computer person means not having health insurance.

Also, it really didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. I mean, sure. I spaced out for about an hour afterward. But then I was fine. A little dazed, sure. But that’s to be expected. I wasn’t exhibiting any signs of concussion… no dilated pupils, ability to focus, complete sentences and the like. I ran a rehearsal after I hit my head, and we got everything done, and done well.  Although I was WAY more chill than normal.

My cast probably appreciated it.

It really didn’t seem like such a big deal, especially because of how I got hurt in the first place.

Our dining room table is a gorgeous old oak table I inherited from my Great-Grandmother via some second cousins. I’ve had it since Jared was born, and I hope to be able to pass it on to him some day. The table has two leaves that you can expand the table with. Well, these leaves were out and leaned against a bookshelf. Bill had left a laundry basket in front of them, and when I leaned over to pick it up, the basket bumped against the leaves, and I got hit by the corner of two solid oak table leaves.

I told you it was silly.

But, as it turns out, the head injury was a bit more than just a small cut and goose egg bump.

Picture taken after the massive bleeding, but before the goose egg finished forming.

I spent about two weeks just kind of in a very unmotivated place. I slept a lot, was having problem getting myself to do simple tasks. It was like a depression, only without that brooding thought process I normally experience with a bout.

I should back up and tell you all about my brain. You see, I’m a certifiable genius. All sorts of fast processes and logic connections and puzzles happening in my brain all the time. To go to bed, I relax with a game of sudoku.

But like what happens with most people with over-active brains, I also have mood disorders. I’ve been diagnosed with a variety of things over the years, from compulsive lying, to schizo-affective disorder, to borderline personality…. but those were all cast aside as soon as a therapist had a new term to play with. Like dress up with new Barbie clothes.

Bitter? Why would I be bitter about that?

After years of in and out therapy, I found a therapist to actually listen to me and ask me the right questions. It turns out I just had a really shitty childhood and a few brain quirks, resulting in a nice case of cyclothymia (less extreme bipolar) with a huge heaping side of anxiety.

Seriously. If what a therapist is telling you doesn’t seem right, go find another one. I mean it.

I tell you this for a couple reasons. 1) I really think everyone should go get their head checked by a professional once a year. You have yearly physicals, why not yearly mentals? 2) Talking about it is a part of my on-going crusade to de-stigmatize brain issues. So many awesome people I know with mood disorders, but the moment you tell someone you have one, you’re somehow “less than.” Bullshit.

3) Since I got hit on the head, my anxiety is practically gone.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve had a wide variety of typically anxiety inducing issues, and have suffered little more than a twitch in the anxiety department. From rush to fiscal to emotional upsets, everything that typically brought me to tears is now suddenly manageable.

I have been cured by a ridiculous hit to the head, which can mean only one thing: I am a cartoon.

Now, could someone get me a rubber mallet and a falling piano?