When I was first diagnosed as a teen, no one knew what to do with me.
My parents refused to use the “E” word. People treated me like I was some kind of pariah. (Which didn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy either).
Guys never called back for a second date.
The Dilantin made me feel like a zombie…I even went into a coma once…
Suddenly, you’re feeling edgy. Lashing out at loved ones for no reason at all. It’s not anybody’s fault. It’s that old familiar enemy. Epilepsy. Again.
Why me? Why now? It’s not fair.
I call epilepsy the “stealth condition,” because most people don’t actually witness a seizure.
Which results in an abundance of ignorance…misinformation..and to be frank, discrimination and slurs.
Watch where you’re going.
You’re clumsy.
You’re depressed.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself…
For me, quite simply, it was my grandfather.
After all, I was a pariah. A leper. (No one would say the “E” word.)
I’d never achieve anything. My life was over.
Even though it had just begun.
When I was first diagnosed as a teen, no one knew what to do with me.
My parents refused to use the “E” word. People treated me like I was some kind of pariah. (Which didn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy either).