Well this is strange right? Writing to something as oppose to someone.. One of the first seizures I ever had happened as a child, in the living room at our table during dinner. It’s weird because I remember what I was wearing, what I was eating, what we were watching on television, my hair style and the fact that my dad was eating beside me. I woke up on the floor with my parents and a paramedic looking over me, the taste of blood in my mouth and the sight of our now cracked glass dining table. I was put on medication for some time after constantly having absent seizures in school as well until eventually I was fine.
Fact: I have hated glass dining tables ever since.
But then comes my teenage years. This was when my seizures decided to make a dramatic reappearance in my life at a time where I already thought I had enough on my plate (does this guy like me? why are my boobs so big at this age? ew, did I just start my period? do these mock exams really matter? you know, teen girl problems). I was getting dressed for school one day, standard routine: alarm goes off, snooze, alarm goes off, snooze, alarm goes off, get out of bed pissed off at the fact you have to face your responsibilities for that day, scooch into the bathroom, lock door, pee wipe flush, brush teeth, wash face… wake up on floor in bedroom, bloody taste in mouth, parents and paramedic looking over me, sister crying in background.. familiar? This carried on throughout high school and college till the first year of university.
This is something that has changed my life in a way I can’t properly even explain. I’ve been wanting to write a letter for a while now, apparently its a good form of closure, so here it is.
I don’t think its necessary to greet you or to ask how you’ve been doing in your time away, I just hope for sure that wherever you are, you don’t return. I don’t think anyone ever deserves to meet you but since we have met, I decided it was only right that you know how I feel about you.
You have done many terrible things, you have wasted my time, you have completely drained my energy, you have made my loved ones worry, you have hacked into one of the most vital organs and delayed my consciousness as you took over. I hate you for that. I fear you. I fear for the day that you will come again kicking down my front doors and I’ll have no other choice than to be seized once again.
I’ll never forget how you made me feel. Those moments I had before you took over; the feeling of helplessness – like seeing a loved one in direct danger but being able to do nothing about it. The numbness that slowly consumes your whole body, the stiffness of my hands, the silencing of my words, the slow decent and black. You terrify me and have caused me so much pain. All those days lying in hospital beds feeling as though my body had been beaten by rocks and not being able to walk properly or sit up for days.
I think part of what hurts me the most is the fact that you will never go away. You will never leave people alone. You can only be controlled, tamed and put in a cage. I tried to cage you once when I was a child but you escaped that cage when I was a teen. I tried once again but you still managed to escape and terrorise me. I am going to be trying to cage and tame you for the rest of my life and I know it. In my early teens, one of the medications I used to tame you had side terrible side affects and made me more anxious and its like I could hear you laughing at my efforts to escape from you. Piece of shit.
When I think of you, I think of anxiety. Not just for me but for the ones I love. Simple things can’t be so simple anymore. Like driving. I love cars and from when I was little I have always wanted to drive, but I’m sure you knew that about me already. You took that excitement and threw it away. I still want to drive but now I’m nervous to. What if I’m driving on my way to an event one evening and you decide you want to take over, what if I have people in the car? I don’t want to hurt anybody. But perhaps you do. My dad still gets anxiety about locking myself in rooms in the fear that if you strike when he’s around, he won’t be able to get to me. You are such a hard thing to talk about with my family. You make everything uneasy.
Seeing you violate other people is uncomfortable too. I remember watching an episode of Casualty, where a patient started to have a seizure. I couldn’t even fucking watch it. Is that what I look like? Is that what you make me do? Another thing I can’t stand is when people make jokes about what you can do. Those are never funny. “he looks like he’s having a seizure haha” “omg don’t switch the lights on/off someone will have a seizure haha”
That wasn’t in your defence by the way.
I guess what I’m trying to say in this letter is you fucked up and I can’t even imagine what it must be like for the countless amounts of people worldwide who can’t get rid of you either. Who have you kicking down their doors sometimes hundreds of times a day. Who are constantly in pain, anxious and sick of you being around. I do sincerely hope that you can piss off for good one day and I can actually confidently throw out the cage I keep trying to put you in but until then fuck you.
If you want to find out more about epilepsy and seizures, feel free to contact me or better yet support these charities and visit their web pages!