After 8 years of working as a community organizer, I decided to go back to graduate school in Clinical Psychology in my mid-30s. Admission to Clinical Psychology programs is incredibly competitive. As a result, I spent a year and a half taking additional courses, working as a counselor, and conducting psychological research at UC-Berkeley in California. By the time it was December, 2004, I was immersed in working on my application essays.

On my way home one day, I got mugged and was severely beaten by four guys outside of my apartment building in San Francisco.

I had a broken bone in my eye socket and needed reconstructive surgery to prevent my eye from sinking into my face. I had abrasions on my knees from being dragged over concrete. According to witnesses, I was also kicked repeatedly in the head when I was on the ground. Though I was in bad shape physically after the assault, I assumed that, apart from potential symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), my recovery would be quick and everything would get back to normal. I took an extra year before applying to programs, though, to give myself extra time to recover.

I went on to a graduate program in Clinical Psychology the year after that. Although I did go on to complete my Master’s degree, I noticed a number of issues that I hadn’t experienced prior to my mugging: short-term memory issues, problems getting started on things, problems with persistence, losing my filter on the things that I said out loud, insomnia, an increased difficulty dealing with stress or unexpected events, low frustration tolerance, and problems expressing myself.

These symptoms persisted after leaving graduate school, even as I worked in various settings as a therapist and life coach. At first, I chalked some symptoms up to PTSD, then tried to deny or ignore the rest. Eventually, though, my symptoms persisted enough for me to finally seek out an evaluation. It would be 10 years after my mugging when I got a diagnosis of Post-Concussive Syndrome (PCS), or Mild Traumatic Brain Injury (mTBI).

In my experience, it is challenging for people with mild brain injuries to get help or be taken seriously— or in some cases, to even get a proper diagnosis— since their impairments often are subtle and invisible to others.

What I have learned is that even if you can avoid seeing your entire life come apart at the seams, even if you can hold down a job or manage to hang on to your relationship, or even if people say you are ‘high functioning,’ there are still big changes in your life and in how you function in the world.

A significant component of these changes is loss. That means that there is a grief process as well as an adjustment process that every person with persisting effects of a mild brain injury must undergo— grief for abilities that have been lost and adjustment to a changed reality as one relearns how to do things in new ways.

It was incredibly difficult to find resources to help me after my diagnosis. In retrospect, I wish I had found a coach to help me navigate all the changes that I had to make in my life. As it was, though, I was lucky to have had cognitive rehabilitation at a good place and therapy with an incredible therapist. I also have an incredibly supportive wife and children. And I have also benefited from having coaching training that I can draw upon for myself.

Through my journey, I have come to a place of acceptance about what happened to me and how it has impacted me. I have also figured out ways to navigate and optimize my life more effectively. It’s not always perfect, but in my life, the needle continues to move in the right direction.

I understand, when it comes to brain injuries. No, I’m not a medical doctor, and yes, every brain injury—and every individual— is unique. But I bring the perspective of someone who has worked as a therapist, coach, and researcher for many years, including with individuals who have sustained TBIs and concussions, who has also experienced this journey himself. As a coach, I’d like to share this know-how and support others who are still dealing with persistent effects of PCS, mTBI, and other brain injuries.

I do not believe that having persistent PCS or mTBI, by any means, signifies the end of your productive life. I believe instead that it is possible to rebuild and live an inspired life after a concussion or brain injury. I not only want to help my clients cope with their head injuries, I want to support them in envisioning, building and sustaining an inspiring future for themselves. And to start making real improvements to their lives now.