The Race Against the Bras

The Race Against the Bras officially ended today.

It started one post-TBI day when I looked at the aging bras in my drawer and wondered how in the world I was ever going to buy a new one. Malls are not possible. Even armed with dark glasses and earplugs, stepping into any store sends me into instant sensory overload. Fluorescent lights, inability to filter visual details, music, people moving, and the hundred decisions required, make for a near-lethal combination. Every color and every word on a package and every item jumps at me with equal intensity. I have no filter to tune out the millions of visual details and just find what I want. My visual field narrows to a peep hole, my dizziness grows, the floor disappears, I have no idea where my body is, and I am nauseous. 

The anxiety escalates despite deep breathing and positive self-talk and ten minutes into it, I am having a total meltdown and needing to dash outside, purchase completed or not. My internal time bomb is ticking when I step into a store, and I know I have limited time before I explode. Every woman knows you just can’t buy a bra in ten minutes. You have to try on twenty to fit one that fits. There was no way I could do this.

There was only one solution. I had to get better before all my bras wore out. The race against the bras began. I was going to win this thing. 

Nearly three years later, I have gotten good at paring my life down to the bare necessities and doing without. I am down to two bras: the one with the wires poking out of the seams and into my ribs, and the crazy leopard skin one that doesn’t fit that I bought as a spoof five years ago. It’s really time.... and I still can’t go into a store for more than ten minutes. Does that mean I’ve lost the race?

Compensatory strategies to the rescue! Instead of going to the Department Store or TJ Max I went to the high end boutique, grabbed the nearest saleslady and ask for help. Wow, no music, no florescent lights, and efficiency. I am out of there in no time... at three times the price. Such is the price of victory. Brain injury is expensive in ways I never dreamed.

I am not better in the way I thought I would be, but I am better in finding my way. Since I made up the race, I get to make up the winner. I could say I lost or I could say I won. They are both true. Life is all in the attitude right? You get to chose if you are a winner or a loser. Do you beat yourself up for being a loser or do acknowledge the ways you are winning? What story do you want to spin? I recommend the one that makes you feel better.

Today, one more mountain has been conquered. I won the race against the bras.