20/07/2025
From Duncan, "In 2016, I was in a hospital bed, unable to walk, needing help just to get to the toilet. I’d just been allocated a motorised wheelchair to help me get to physio sessions. That moment, sitting there with my three children beside me, was a turning point. The thought of being stuck using a wheelchair lit a fire in me. I wanted more for myself and for them.
Upon reflection, one of the things I did was change the language I used around myself and my stroke. I was conscious not to use the word victim for myself. I survived a stroke, which was bloody hard graft.
I used and still use that word intentionally - survived. Because for me saying I was a victim felt passive. Saying “I survived a stroke” changed my perspective. It reminds me, and others, that I’ve overcome something life-altering.
Recovery hasn’t been easy, but it’s been a journey of rebuilding, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. One of the most helpful things I’ve learned is to set big goals, goals that scare me a little, but I break them down into smaller, achievable steps. I celebrate the little wins along the way. Even if the big goal shifts, I find the progress you make builds your confidence and gives you something to focus on.
One of those big goals for me? Earning a black belt in Aikido.
Two years ago, I stepped into a dojo for the first time. Aikido, a Japanese martial art, has been incredible for me both physically and mentally. It’s structured, philosophical, and steeped in discipline and etiquette. That structure gives me a sense of direction, and working toward each new belt rank, four tips at a time gives me purpose. I’ve now reached the Intermediate Green Belt, and I’ve even started coaching kids at the Dojo.
I won’t lie, when I started, the idea of getting a black belt felt wild, especially considering where I was a few years ago. I may not hit my original goal of achieving it before my 10-year stroke anniversary in July 2026, but that’s OK. It’s not just about the belt anymore. It’s about enjoying the process, committing to self-improvement, and showing up for myself.
As I approach nine years since my stroke, it’s a good moment to look back and take stock. I’m driving again. I live independently. I’m about to move in with my new partner. Something I never could have imagined in 2019 when I was admitted to the hospital with severe depression. I’d sold my house, my marriage had ended, and I was in a very dark place.
I can’t stress this enough: please reach out for help if you’re struggling with your mental health. There’s no shame in it. Thankfully, the stigma around depression is shifting, and there’s more support available now. Asking for help saved my life in more ways than one.
People sometimes tell me how far I’ve come. But the truth is, it took me a while to see it myself. When you’re in the middle of “the fight”, progress can feel slow or invisible. But when I look back now, I can honestly say I’ve come a long way. And while there’s still a road ahead, I finally feel like I’m on the right track.
If you’re reading this and you’ve survived a stroke, or you’re supporting someone who has, please know this; there is hope.
Try something new, step outside your comfort zone, and set a goal that matters to you. Even if the path changes, the journey itself will move you forward.
Reading other survivors’ stories gave me hope. I hope mine does the same.
