“I am not sick. I am broken and as long as I can paint I am happy to be alive.”
– Frida Kahlo
A couple of weeks ago, I pressed my face against mortality after collapsing in my bathroom at 6 in the morning. Chaos ensued.
I was not cognizant of the urgency of my wife screaming, my mother-in-law, the nurse, telling her what to do while dialing 911. When someone who is otherwise healthy loses consciousness, it is cause for alarm.
Needless to say, I survived.
Although not without some injuries.
On my way to the floor, my body crumpled in on itself like a skyscraper on demolition day. I broke one foot and damaged ligaments in the opposite leg. I still have bruises. Luckily, I did not have what was widely suspected, a seizure disorder.
But this post is not about me, necessarily.
Frida Kahlo, artist-family and friends and the writer I am linking to below are inspirations to me.
Stephanie Schroeder is another blogger and writer I have gotten to know through her magazine writing and columns. She is based in Brooklyn, NY and I invite you to take a look at her work and her very personal experience as a person with Bipolar Disorder.
It is often through illness and struggle that women have found art to express their strength. As I sit at home, unable to go to a job I love or be the active and energetic woman I am, writing this blog and knowing someone is reading and perhaps relating to my posts has kept me going.
My gratitude dear reader, for being such a part of my healing and recovery.