A Courageous
Tale of Faith and
Self-discovery Sheds Light on the Darkness
of Bipolar Disorder.
It's not what happens to you, but how you deal with it. The
Remains of a Cloud, by Ruth Cohen is a testament
to this world view.
This would be an achievement for any writer, but the fact
that English is not Cohen's first language, adds insight
into the author's remarkable skill.
Cohen's journey, both literal and spiritual, takes her
through a series of exiles from Tunis, to Paris to Israel.
Marriage brings international travel back into her life, taking
her to the US. She overcomes challenges in her new communities
and in her most intimate relationships to achieve remarkable
professional goals. In her most despairing moments, the tiny
glimmer of hope in her words kept me turning the page. With
the dedication of a scientist, she seeks out every available
resource to help her learn to manage the debilitating effects
of the venom within. Her quest for peace of mind,
rooted in faith and motivated by compassion, leads her to understand
herself and those closest to her.
Keeping a reader on track through the tapestry of a life story
is a special talent. Cohen's skill in sharing the process
of how her illness responded to a series of treatments, personal
choices and the unknown future had me rooting for her to win.
It takes courage to share the details of changing relationships. Cohen's well-chosen metaphors
(venom, cloud, exiled soul) help give shape to the abstract
feelings and pain common to the depressive and manic epos ides
she suffered. Her well-chosen words provide a (map - pathway) shining
a light on the darkness making it possible for readers to see
the pressures her grandfather and her parents endured in a
world without support services. Cohen's personal discipline,
given the uncertainty of her physical and psychological worlds,
is nothing short of amazing. Her story is an inspiration to
any reader caring for or suffering the debilitating effects
of bipolar disease.
Cohen's own profound words of prayer say it all:
Oh God, you know my suffering, it’s too hard to handle
but I try to handle those pains. Help me more to suffer less
and to heal faster. I am getting to a point where sometimes
I lose patience but not faith. My agony has been too long and
too hard.
Her proactive participating in her own healing is a woven
tapestry of rough and winding threads. Often she is left with
more questions than answers. Yet despite her internal struggles,
she follows every expression of doubt with an affirmation:
… it was the same decision for my other friends, for
my children, and often for my husband. It was hard to
make believe I was feeling good, as it was hard to lie; and
even harder not to let the pains I felt show, but this way
I handled my sickness better. Looking strong and healthy for
my husband gave me the right to pinpoint his attitude, it would
be important for my recovery.
Cohen's journey leads her to many surprising discoveries.
She follows the pathway of her memories to a simple, but profound
childhood event - being pressured to use her right hand, rather
than her left when learning to write at age 4 - set off a profound
anger. She has found a pathway out of that debilitating anger,
learned to manage the genetic, intellectual and emotional components
of coping and written a compelling and informative account
of her struggle.
Reviewer: JJ Murphy
writer@WriterByNature.com
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