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…
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.
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).
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.
When I was a teen I fell down, walked into walls, bumped into virtually everything in my path, and almost drowned in the shower.
So, you can imagine what a disaster dating was.
Of course, in my infinite wisdom, I would never tell my dates that I had epilepsy.
My parents wouldn’t even utter the word, so rather than become a pariah, I kept my mouth shut.
Bad idea…