This past week has been one of the most frightening of my life. Any post that starts like surely must be hyperbolic. i would think this. But I’m not exaggerating.
Last Wednesday, I had what initially diagnosed as a major stroke. My body just refused to do what I wanted. I saw double, couldn’t touch my nose, couldn’t walk. I couldn’t feed myself. Luckily, after many tests no signs of a stroke could be found and nothing tangible could be found as a cause.
I thought this was just damned unfair. First I have to deal with the life changing impacts of bipolar disorder, now I have to cope with this as well. For the rest of my life. I wondered if there was a correlation between bipolar and stokes, or perhaps the medication that I take.
I’m so much younger that an average stroke victim. I couldn’t understand why all this was happening. The first two days in the hospital, I was a scared as I can remember.
Luckily, my recovery was swift and complete. Now I wonder what was this all about. I have realized that for a long time I didn’t care if I lived or died. That struggling with bipolar had taken away all good reason for living. I often thought that it would just be better if I was dead.
For a while I didn’t know if I would be able to write. I didn’t know if I would walk, run of live on my own again.
I didn’t know if I would ever hug my kids again.
Now it’s over or at least as over as it can be. The doctors were amazed by my recovery and I was too.
After so long wondering what is my life all about, I have a new perspective. It’s hard not to.
Something has changed. There must be a reason. I feel new. The light of day has changed. Perhaps I’m more at peace. I have hope again.
And believing in hope is enough for now. I must be here for some reason. I will have find that reason.
Best of all, I still have the chance to search.
peace and love to all
bipolar circus 