The last year and a half I've been burnt with triathlons. I'm no longer obsessed. No longer driven beyond all reason. Now that I look back at all the time spent cycling, running, swimming, racing, and the tens of thousands of dollars I spent on traveling, hotels, equipment, and race entries I realize triathlon was my midlife crisis. In some ways my family and I got off easy compared to other men. My family is still together, thriving actually. There's been no infidelities. Even at the peak of my obsession my wife and kids were still my #1 priority. But in other ways I feel like I'm in a worse place than the other men who had the same life altering temporary retardation. It appears to me like the men who go through a mid life crisis come out of it having learned a lot about themselves. I didn't seem to have gained the same emotional maturity. I feel lost. Depressed. When I look in the mirror I don't recognize myself. When I look in the mirror this is who I expect to see:
The muscular weight lifter,
or the skinny endurance athlete,
Below is who I actually see. This is what I look like now. Fat, bald, unhappy with myself. I mean seriously, how can my lovely wife enjoy being with someone who looks like this? I'm disgusting!
Things have improved since the accident. The first 9 months after the accident I didn't want to be around anyone EVER! Not even my wife and kids. Now I want to be around them, I'm just a social buffoon. I was easily angered, constantly depressed, all I could think about was suicide.Although I'm not that bad now I still don't feel like myself. Will I ever go back to the person I was before? I miss that person. So does my friends and family. I have an appointment with my primary doctor on May 8th. I've brought these problems up to him before and he's dismissed them saying, "it takes time for the brain to recover", or, "you might not ever get those things back." I've done some research and have found that there is help for people who suffer from brain injuries. I'm not leaving my doctors office until he refers me to a specialist who can help me, because I'm finally willing to admit that I need help.