I don't look like a person who would have a stroke - though I am not sure that one always does. It was not due to my blood pressure, or my weight, or any of the usual suspects. It was however a vertebral artery dissection. So, basically an artery blew, got damaged and I had a stroke in my brain stem.
I am fortunate, because the damage that occurred wasn't what most usually picture. Yes, I can walk and talk, though for over a year I lost the use of finding words. If God wants to challenge you, I guess losing the ability to communicate the way you usually would would do it. I have suffered severe migraine headaches, dizziness, and extreme and sudden bouts of nausea.I was able to speak, but found myself repeating myself to my boyfriend, especially - probably because he was the one I spoke with most. I forgot I said things, lost my favorite ring (never to be seen again), and have had to learn to practice reading and writing - the most innate things since childhood, words as safety and salvation, reading like a sponge---all things I have to practice now.
The headaches are past debilitating, to fall asleep because it hurts so much, and to wake up because it hurts so much, and you are spinning is all indescribable. Sometimes you wonder what you could possibly have done to deserve it...I still haven't figured it out.
Well anyway at some point it wasn't getting better - and often it can -but it didn't - not that I have ever giver up hope - but as the people around me became intolerant of a ghost they could not see, I became depressed. I knew it partially, but kept fighting with myself just to do "normal" things, like take a shower every day, care about eating, play with my dogs, and to speak - because what came out was so discouraging it was difficult to communicate, and the sound of my voice hurt my head. Music, which had always been cathartic to me became unbearable, besides, I couldn't remember the words anyway, even though I knew them. Most people, even the ones who claim to love you - don't understand something that they can't see, and hopefully will never have to experience, and they become, or rather became intolerant, and impatient, and distant. All I thought was I needed more time, after all this was my brain, not a scraped knee.
No matter how much you want to "live" most people don't want to concern themselves with the inner struggle, and the perseverance, and most of all the loneliness involved in this sort of recovery. And, I found out the hard way, even if you need time, and people claim to love you, and all you have ever done is loved them, sometimes it is just not enough. Maybe nothing is.
