cody jacobs

My traumatic brain injury wasn’t just an accident — it was survival against impossible odds. A .40 caliber round left fragments of titanium in my brain, and doctors told me I shouldn’t have made it. I did. That injury rewired everything about how I think, move, and feel. The pain, the fatigue, the sensory overload — they’re constant reminders of what happened. I’ve lived through memory loss, seizures, and the slow rebuild of who I am. But I also learned what real endurance looks like. TBI doesn’t just break the skull — it challenges the soul to adapt.

Living with TBI means learning patience when your mind stutters, grace when your body won’t listen, and courage when you wake up every day unsure how your brain will respond. It’s doctors, therapy sessions, and nights staring at the ceiling, fighting to remember who you used to be — and accepting who you are now. I’ve been through neuro exams, endless scans, and recovery programs that tested every ounce of willpower. But through that process, I realized something vital: healing isn’t about going back. It’s about moving forward with what’s left and finding strength in what’s changed.

Today, I use my music and story to show others that broken doesn’t mean defeated. I’m here to raise awareness for those fighting invisible battles and to remind survivors that resilience lives inside every neuron that still fires. My scars don’t define me — they remind me that I fought, survived, and kept creating. If even one person feels seen because of this, then the pain had purpose.