Bipolar Peace- Cross the finish line

It’s been five months since something went horribly wrong with my neck and back- the pain, at times, was immeasurable. I was certain there was no fix, and thought this is my forever.

I followed through with the recommended care. Started in physical therapy with needles in my neck, hooked up to electricity, being zapped for a period of time.

“Your brain is sending the wrong messages to your muscles. Every muscle is spasming as I do this exam. It never stops. You’re in so much pain because these muscles are done and over it. They’ve given up doing what your brain is telling them to do.”

My symptoms didn’t align with their MRI. The doctor answered me with a, “I don’t know why the other side hurts, but on the left side your spinal canal is closing, you have stenosis and spondylitis (bone spurs in the canal, and arthritis in my vertabrae).”

But no answers as to why pain was shooting down my spine, into my legs, down my arms, and all over my back. I fear they never really comprehended the level of pain. When a lady has four kids with no epidural or pain meds to speak of- and she’s complaining of pain, trust her, it’s severe pain!

One person listened. One person found the ‘other’ underlying problems. One person began treating them gently and then firmly (electrocution with dry needling ..ouch)

Tonight it reminded me of dealing with mental health.

We explain what our minds are going through. We know our brain is sending all the wrong signals. We seek help from one place or the other. We pull away because it seems no one understands or cares to understand. Then we reach out again, and if we are lucky, one person may understand. One person may take the time to find the underlying problems that aren’t obvious on the surface. One person will begin with gentle care, then firm, then we see it- something new.

One person leads us down this unfamiliar road…

Called hope.

And eventually, with our own persistence, strength, perseverance, endurance, determination and will- we begin to see ourselves differently. The gray we once wore slowly changes shades- until there is a light blue, darker blue, and eventually purple- the color of royalty. My favorite color.

There is no crown or tiara. There is simply an inner peace, a grin, a self-embracing hug, and the knowledge of knowing,

“I did it”.

I survived. I pushed through, and I pressed on.
I am a successful​, overcoming, goal-achieving person of royalty.

By the Grace of God, I won.

My friend, don’t stop. Go your own pace, but never, ever stop.



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