My Brain Felt Broken

Thinking clearly again.

My Brain Felt Broken

In the months leading up to the discovery of my brain tumor last year, my brain felt broken in many ways.

It wasn't realated to the tumor. But I'm self-employed and was doing so many things in my business. I had a ton of client work. I wanted to host a live workshop. I felt like I was running behind all the time, and my brain was always running in a million directions. I was constantly stressed. Yes, a lot of it was my own doing (choosing the type of work I do), but I couldn't figure out how to slow down.

The brain tumor discovery forced me to slow down.

I told my clients that I couldn't take on any more work after the beginning of July (three weeks before surgery) and that I wasn't exactly sure how long after until I started working again.

I had to cancel the workshop I'd planned (literally found out about the tumor the day after I'd announced it, so it was ok).

Any other projects I'd been working on... sidelined.

All the writing I do on my blog and Substack... I got other people to help with writing guest posts to keep the content going without relying on me.

I spent the ~6 weeks between diagnosis and surgery preparing my business to function without me, which meant giving up almost everything that happened behind the scenes. I also focused intently on preparing our household (for my parents, who were coming to take care of the kids during my initial recovery).

I started working again in September, but it was November before I felt like I had a normal amount of energy during the day. And I didn't get glasses to correct my double vision until January – almost six months after surgery.

But since January, I feel almost like I did pre-surgery, except for some minor facial paralysis on my left side.

Mentally, though? I feel like a completely different person.

At the time of my surgery, I had three core clients and one new client. My three core clients stayed with me. My one new client never gave me additional work upon my return. I've had a few things come and go in the months since then, but nothing ongoing. And that's been fine with me.

With less client work, I've been able to focus more on some other projects that I enjoy. The clean, long "break" from the work gave me the space to think about what I wanted to focus on.

In the months immediately after my surery, I met with a career coach a few times (I knew her from pre-surgery). I told her outright, "I don't know what I want to do anymore." Outside of the necessary and income-earning client work, I spent the first few months flailing. In many ways, that was good for me. It quieted the "noise" I'd had in my head before surgery.

When everything stopped, I got to start again, with a fresh perspective.

This week, I had very little client work, which is a common occurance for me in the summer. My clients take vacation, plus they knew I was traveling (San Francisco!) last week so didn't send me any assignments. In the pre-surgery days, I would have been overwhelmed by the amount of things I'd committed to. But this week, I chose a few things to focus on and spent my days doing those.

I really, really hate the phrase "everything happens for a reason." Because if I could have chosen a path without a brain tumor, that would have been better. The first weeks and months after surgery were incredibly hard, and the surgery itself had a lot of risks.

But now I'm far enough away from the experience that I can see something positive. I feel like I can "think clearly" again.


If you’d like to support my work as a writer, you can buy me a coffee.