A Tiny Paragraph Of Hope

Yesterday, for the first time in over a year, I caught tiny glimpses of my Self, like rays of sunlight that break though the shadows of trees as you drive down the highway.

I’m bipolar. This shit is hard. Happy or hypomanic? Bad day or dysphoric depression? Anger or mixed episode? Who am I? Who is my Self?

These glimpses started when I was looking at myself in the bathroom mirror at work. As I was fluffing my French-looking hair in the mirror, I imagined myself in the bathroom of a Parisian restaurant. For just a tiny moment it was as if the veil of illness caught the wind and I felt my Self peak through. I tried not to overthink it or make a big deal out of it in case I scared my Self away, but the glimpses kept happening throughout the day. Tiny rays of light.

Don’t misunderstand the meaning of “rays of light”; they aren’t the same as happiness. I have had moments, even hours, of happiness during this phase of illness but they aren’t the same as feeling like my Self. Inversely, I am not always happy when I feel like my Self, but there is something about the consciousness that changes when the veil of illness lifts. I can see clearly again. For now, it comes in tiny glimpses but maybe, just maybe, it will grow into minutes, hours, days…