Between Waking and Becoming
An Interview with Garry... 25 Years After Our Coma Recoveries.
Introduction: Two Lives, One Awakening
Twenty-five years ago, two teenage boys woke up in the same Dutch rehabilitation center in Beesterszwaag, both emerging from the fog of traumatic brain injury.
One of them was me. The other was Garry (his real name is Gerrit, but I call him Garry ever since) .
We were neighbors in our private rooms in that strange new world of rehab. A place where laughter and despair lived in the same hallway, where you could hear both the sound of physical therapy equipment and the quiet prayers of parents holding on to hope.
When I first opened my eyes after weeks in a coma, I didn’t “wake up” the way people imagine. I wasn’t back. I was adrift. The same was true for Garry. Together, we navigated the borderland between life and existence - and somehow found our way through.
Twenty-five years later, we sat down again. What follows is our conversation. Not about medicine, but about what it feels like to come back from nowhere. About rebuilding identity when the self no longer matches the memory. About what healing really means when “normal” is gone forever, and something deeper takes its place.
The Interview @ a local coffee bar
Joe: In my coma diary I wrote that when I woke up, I felt more lost than alive. Did you feel the same?
Garry: Exactly that. Everyone celebrated; I panicked. I didn’t know if I was a person or a problem. Waking isn’t the end of the coma. It’s the start of a new one, where you’re conscious but displaced. The world is too fast, your brain too slow. Everyone’s seemed relieved except you.
Joe: There’s a moment when the body wakes before the mind fully returns. Do you remember sensing that split.. being awake, but not yet yourself? What did that in-between state feel like?
Garry: It’s like standing behind glass, watching someone else move your hands. My body obeyed commands, but my consciousness lagged half a second behind. I’d hear myself laugh and wonder, who decided that? It’s unsettling. Like being a guest in your own body. That lag shortened with time, but even now I sometimes feel echoes of it, especially under stress. It taught me humility. Consciousness isn’t as continuous as we think.
Joe: My early weeks felt dreamlike. How did you experience time?
Garry: Time became elastic. I’d blink and it was sunset. Then I’d stare at a clock for what felt like hours, and only a minute had passed. It’s like your brain’s calendar burned down and you’re standing in the ashes trying to rebuild it.
Joe: When did you start to feel like yourself again?
Garry: The day I stopped chasing the old me. I mourned him for years. Then I realized I didn’t owe the world my “before” self. I could love who I was without trying to resurrect him. That’s when I began living again.
Joe: I wrote in my diary that I was “awake to others, but not to myself.” Did you have a similar stage?
Garry: It’s strange. The world came back before I did. I could sense light, warmth, movement… but no me inside them yet. I remember staring at my reflection and thinking, “He looks alive.” But the he and the I didn’t match. It took months before I could feel feelings that belonged to me and not just to the situation. When that happened - when I laughed and knew why - that was the moment I stopped being a witness and became a person again.
Joe: Practically speaking, what actually helped you most in rehab ?
Garry: Three things: one-sentence instructions (f.e. “Touch the blue pad”).. my brain couldn’t hold complex directions. Visual anchors.. bright stickers, mirrors, color-coded sides of the room. And meaning before measurement.. if therapy was about lifting weights, I tuned out; if it was about holding a coffee cup again, I’d give everything. That’s something professionals should know: meaning fires more neurons than metrics.
Joe: Did the injury change your personality?
Garry: Yes.. but not only because of brain damage. It stripped away filters. I became more direct, less patient with nonsense. People called it “bluntness.” I call it clarity. When survival rewires your brain, it also rewires your values.
Joe: What happened after the “you survived!” stage?
Garry: That’s when loneliness sets in. People stop visiting. The spotlight moves. You’re alive, yes but the narrative ends for everyone else while yours has just begun. Survivors need long-term companionship, not short-term celebration.
Joe: What does sustainability look like for you now, 25 years on?
Garry: I live by three principles: structure, pacing, and surrender. Structure means predictable mornings, strict sleep hygiene, regular meals. Pacing means budgeting my energy.. one major cognitive task a day, not five. Surrender means accepting fatigue without guilt. When I crash, I rest. That’s sustainability.
Joe: I still crash mentally if I push too hard. How do you handle that?
Garry: I treat fatigue like a tax, not a flaw. Every decision costs brain currency. Meditation, naps, nutrition.. those are deposits. Multitasking is debt. Most survivors live bankrupt without realizing it.
Joe: Did your worldview change?
Garry: Completely. Before the accident, I saw consciousness as binary — on or off. Now I know there’s a spectrum. Coma taught me that the mind isn’t a switch; it’s a sea. Whether you call it God, energy, or neuroplasticity, something greater carries us when cognition can’t.
Joe: How do you define success now?
Garry: Alignment. Not speed, not output. If what I do matches who I am today, that’s success. I don’t chase the old metrics. I create new ones. Healing is personal economics: you invest where growth still happens.
Joe: Relationships after brain injury can be fragile. How did you rebuild yours?
Garry: Radical honesty. I tell people early: “Sometimes my brain lags, sometimes my mood misfires.” It filters out those who can’t handle it. The ones who stay become family. Openness saves everyone time and heartbreak.
Joe: Clinicians often talk about “plateaus” in recovery. Do you believe in that?
Garry: Not at all. “Plateau” usually means “insurance stopped paying.” The brain keeps changing. Twenty-five years later, I still notice tiny gains ..better balance, smoother speech. The brain doesn’t stop healing; society just stops funding it.
Joe: You once told me you’re “not fully operational, but fully alive.” What does that mean?
Garry: It means I stopped trying to be who I was, and started being effective with who I am. I can’t handle crowded places or multitasking.. so I designed my life around calm, focus, and purpose. You don’t beat TBI by erasing its limits; you win by designing within them.
Joe: If a young survivor or their family reads this tonight, what would you tell them?
Garry: You won’t go back. You’ll go through. That’s harder, but better. Don’t measure your progress by speed, measure it by direction. Remember: you don’t wake up once. You wake up a thousand times. Emotionally, physically,and spiritually, across years.
Joe: That’s the truth most textbooks skip. Thanks, brother.
Garry: Anytime, Joe. We woke up, but more importantly, we stayed awake.
Afterword: The Long Road Home
While, comparatively speaking, my recovery left me better off than Garry’s in physical terms, the truth is—we feel the same. The terrain inside, the search for meaning, the quiet daily negotiations with our limits—they connect us beyond any measure of function.
What we learned from our meeting wasn’t how to walk or talk again. It was how to live while never fully healed.
That’s the truth no discharge summary captures;
Healing is not about returning to who you were;
It’s about becoming who you were meant to be.
If this conversation moved you, whether as a patient, professional, or family member, consider sharing it. These are the stories that shape real recovery, beyond data and diagnosis.
Having suffered severe trauma myself, sources that helped me to become the best version of myself:
Follow my personal survivors story by clicking here, having suffered severe TBI and the remarkable life story that brought me to where I am today.
Follow the Brain Recovery & Maintenance Protocol by clicking here, which is regularly updated with practical tips for long term brain recovery/maintenance care.
Follow MedPulse on The Omega Tree as it provides unique perspectives from trauma survivors and their stories.
Found this valuable? If you’re interested in staying on the pulse of the latest advancements in brain health and receiving more content like this, hit that follow button!
Follow & Refer us on one of our other socials:
Follow, Share, Subscribe and Donate when you feel good about that! Much appreciated as it fuels more stories like these.
On Your Wellness!
Disclaimer
Everything written here is based on my own account, if not otherwise stated. I am not a physician, nor do I have a medical degree. I was patient with them and by following certain and consciously not following other advice I found my way to become the best version of myself. I am a TBI survivor and I am sharing my experiences. From my own perspective I know what works and what not. My own perspective is always well researched and I only use products and services that have worked for me. Having said that, TBI survivorship is dependent on the individual going through TBI and therefore each case is different. One size - Fits all solutions don’t exist in this space.
Want to support my work on the spot >> check out - https://buymeacoffee.com/theomegatree Thank you!