Before the onset of my postpartum bipolar,
my life was full of hope,
my mind open to the endless possibilities and promises
for a great, happy and successful life and future ahead of me.
After the onset of my postpartum bipolar,
my life became hopeless.
I felt nothing and could no longer see a future ahead of me.
I felt the nothingness of everything.
Everything became nothing.
I became nothing.
I no longer existed and became empty.
The dynamics of my life changed from enjoying the beauty of living,
to merely existing in a life that was not worth living.
Sometimes, I struggled to live and fought hard to survive.
Other times, death by suicide was my only source of comfort and hope.
Life was not about living and enjoying life.
My life became a daily existence of survival,
with no purpose and reason to exist beyond one minute at a time.
I could no longer fathom continuing to live another second of my life.
Life changed from living to dying.
My mind was consumed with thoughts of death.
Each day I was alive,
became either a miraculous curse or a blessing,
depending on the state of mind I was in at the moment.
Eventually, I found a reason and purpose for living.
I knew my purpose for living was for my children,
After I found God, I learned to believe I was my own purpose.
My life had purpose.
I began to fight to live, survive and thrive.
My many years of struggles, obstacles and pain
from surviving with severe bipolar disorder and PTSD,
has changed and aged my inner self and character,
helping me to become a better and more compassionate person.
I pray God and my inner self radiates out of me,
causing me to be a beautiful patina of a human being.
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My Loud Whispers of Hope 