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I recently visited my sole remaining Aunt for the last time. Unfortunately she was gone (she didn’t recognize my mother or myself).

TBI - for those who are incapable of understanding, in particular those who have not experienced it personally - is an order of magnitude worse than Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s or dementia in general:

With TBI, you remember who you once were. I’ve been there. In fact, I believe that stories some of you have read in the paper about elders walking away from a hospice or care facility at night in the dead of winter was a genuine case of a person so-afflicted who had a “moment of clarity” and remembered who they were, just long enough to make a conscious decision.

In the case of TBI, the lack of self-worth is incredibly-defeating. For 5 years I compromised and suffered in my own right until one day it was like someone flipped a switch and it was gone. In my case it followed a dramatic lifestyle change and, as stated in the prior comment, I believe that brain injury and traumatic mental stress in general (PTSD) is exacerbated by systemic inflammation.

Hence, in some cases I believe it to be reversible or, at a minimum, a condition which presents much better for the patient and those around them. To be clear, there are competing issues here: Permanent physical brain trauma and PTSD (psychological issues brought about by physical conditions in the brain).

I did not have the tendency for violent outbursts described by the OP of his son, so I “compromised” in different ways. My principal manner of compromising was “projects”. At that time I was incapable of writing, as I’m doing prodigiously today. I also joined Toastmasters and am speaking publicly as well. However, I still have trouble with simple math, but my creativity has returned with a vengeance. Most frustrating: My ability to remember people’s’ names is just as bad as it always has been: No worse, no better. Damn it all. /s

Regardless how it’s labeled, it’s all the same: Therapy & support. I know others - my stepson included - who have made the difficult decision to admit that medical science/doctors don’t know what causes it (PTSD) and cannot help and compromised in their own manner to regain some modicum of self-worth. My boy revels in his job and working out at the gym. Unfortunately he has an affinity for “juicing” and I view that as an addiction no worse than alcohol, sans some of the effects of the latter when inebriated.

In my own case, for lack of a better way of phrasing it, I am blessed with the good fortune of having made a number of changes in my life which permitted my body to begin healing. Ironically that included my brain.

Regardless, whether a person is compromising or, as in my own case, recovering, there is only one takeaway for those such as the OP’s son:

Hope. Not “wishes” (as in “wish” in one hand) but genuine hope.

I did not have any hope whatsoever while I was suffering for 5 years. My own experience gave some hope to my stepson.

I hope it helps others and hope to get my books published soon. The psychological aspect is corollary to the physical health and I am now compelled to write more than a mere chapter on the topic (it’s a 4th book).