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Life after traumatic brain injury

There's an old saying that starts out feeling very familiar but the end of the phrase used within the walls of one Prince George non-profit group may stop you in your tracks. "If you've seen one brain injury... you've seen one brain injury.

There's an old saying that starts out feeling very familiar but the end of the phrase used within the walls of one Prince George non-profit group may stop you in your tracks.

"If you've seen one brain injury... you've seen one brain injury."

That statement is driven home when Ma'iingan Corbiere, 47, starts to talk about when the culmination of an abusive relationship ended with a traumatic brain injury that sent her to an Ontario hospital in 2000.

Everything changed that day and for 17 years afterwards, Corbiere was in survival mode, trying to navigate the new world in which she lived that saw her searching for her words, trying to comprehend the most basic things, never knowing how to cope with her mixed emotions and the countless challenges that came with her brain injury.

"I can't think of an area of my life that hasn't been impacted by this," she said.

"Basically, it changed who I was and I didn't know who I was for a long time."

Corbiere said in the past she didn't receive any treatment that was brain-injury specific.

"And that posed a lot of difficulty in getting by," she added.

"I went for 17 years being injured and being different and having symptoms and not understanding what was happening or how to fix it."

Moving to Prince George to attend the University of Northern B.C. after earning a scholarship to pursue a master's in social work, Corbiere experienced another setback that has not as yet been diagnosed.

"My brain felt like it shut down and wasn't working and life became even more challenging than it was before," she said. "I couldn't work and I couldn't go to school and I had to take a medical leave from school."

Her life's course altered once again in January when she came through the doors of the Prince George Brain Injured Group (PG BIG).

"I hadn't lived in a place where there was a place like this to go to," Corbiere said.

Corbiere knew she needed help and did a self-referral to the local brain injured group.

"My life changed again but this time for the better," Corbiere said. "Since coming here in January I've made so much progress."

Working closely with lead case manager Julia Koopmans, Corbiere was given the coping tools, the knowledge to understand her symptoms and information about how the brain works that allows her to continue her university studies. After earning her master's degree, Corbiere will further her education in Vancouver to become an art therapist who will proudly return to Prince George to help others who have a brain injury.

Art therapy helps people explore their emotions, improve self-esteem, manage addictions, relieve stress, improve symptoms of anxiety and depression, and cope with a physical illness or disability, according to the Psychology Today Canada website. And it's helped Corbiere see her progress from someone struggling with her brain injury to someone who has slowly learned to accept it, work with it, live with it.

One of her many works of art is entitled Blessings of a Broken Brain. But that's not what its original title was, in fact, Corbiere won't even utter the original title because she's moved so far beyond that anger, that frustration, and the art, without intention, has been a work in progress - a stark reflection of her own complex journey with brain injury.

The work was painted on a canvas using the colour purple, which symbolizes healing. The next stage, which was spontaneous, resulted in stab marks and slashes through the work, virtually destroying the piece, and finally after some time had passed Corbiere used gold-infused glossy purple thread to lovingly stitch up the canvas and tie those loose ends with pretty bows.

"I did a real number on it and it stayed that way on my wall for a while and then as time went on and I learned more things and I sewed it back up again," Corbiere smiled.

Through the art therapy course offered at the local BIG, Corbiere said she found her way back to art, using it as a way to express herself when her words just won't come.

On a collaboration project with Darin, her husband of seven years, Corbiere was able to create a piece in honour of Orange Shirt Day, Sept. 30, which raises awareness about residential schools and its intergenerational survivors and their plight. The commissioned piece was for the National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation. The artwork was placed on T-shirts as a way to raise awareness and funds. Corbiere said her family, including her two sons Timothy, 28 and Liam, 22, is very proud of the work she and Darin have done for the cause.

"To be able to express my thoughts artistically holds such meaning," Corbiere said. "It's a way for me to creatively express myself when my words don't come. I feel like an artist again. I feel like my art and my social work dreams are merging and to me, this is my first piece of artivism because it's art with a whole lot of meaning."

Understanding that she could help herself cope with brain injury, Corbiere has now taken all the courses available to her at the Prince George Brain Injured Group.

As she learned about brain injury, she also learned about how to take care of herself to improve her life and rebuild.

"So when I learn something in a course and I get a suggestion I go home and try it and then I'll try it again later if it doesn't work and then I'll try something similar and then I'll ask someone else in my family 'what can I do?' and then we'll brainstorm to find other ways, so I've really taken what I've learned and looked for more and that's brought a whole lot more into my life as part of my treatment," Corbiere said all in one big breath. "I can clearly see that I will never be the same again but I can clearly see where I'm getting better. I've never gotten that kind of help before. It sure is nice to know now what to do - how to improve my life because I have now accepted that I live with brain injury and I think it's been absolutely pivotal that I came here (PG BIG) because I was on a bit of a different path before that and I wasn't so hopeful."

Taking a deep breath Corbiere admitted she used to be quite suicidal.

Corbiere turned to Koopmans, who sat in on the interview.

"And I'm not anymore," Corbiere said, smiling through her tears. "I still have trouble coping but I'm happy now and I found acceptance and I like my life better now than I ever did before. I'm pretty glad that I moved here and found the brain injured group. I'm not happy about what happened to me but I am happy I'm here and found support and a family here, really."

To bring awareness to brain injury and offer some insight and understanding, the Prince George Brain Injured Group, celebrating its 30th anniversary, is offering a day-long seminar with international best selling author Dr. Norman Doidge who wrote The Brain That Changes Itself and The Brain's Way of Healing. Doidge is a psychiatrist and psychoanalyst on faculty at the departments of psychiatry at the University of Toronto and Columbia University, the Center for Psychoanalytic Training and Research, and a training and supervising analyst at the Toronto Institute of Psychoanalysis. During the seminar, Doidge will demonstrate the potential of neuroplasticity for treating brain injury, among other issues. The event is held Friday at the Ramada from 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Tickets are $150 each. For more information visit www.pgbig.ca or register by calling conference coordinator Christine Smith at 250-564-2447 or by email at conference@pgbig.ca.