On Monday, I spent the whole day relaxing. I cooked, watched some TV, took a nap, and when I finally sat down to do some homework that night, I got settled in on the couch in my apartment. I was suddenly very dizzy, which got worse and worse until I blacked out.
The next thing I saw when I opened my eyes was my arm shaking uncontrollably. I don’t remember it clearly, but I remember trying to stop the convulsion, and I couldn’t. Everything went black again, and next, I just remember my roommate’s voice trying to calm me down, telling me “Bry, you had a seizure. It’s okay, you’re okay.” She said it over and over, assuring me. I wanted to respond. I wanted to have any type of control over the situation. I sat up, I stood up, I did whatever I could until I finally was able to open my eyes.
When it sunk in, my stomach dropped. Not again. For a minute, I didn’t believe her. I looked at her, helplessly, trying to put the pieces together. I was still dizzy, trying to slow down my breathing.
The reality of what has happened hasn’t really fully set in yet. The last two days have been full of distractions and resting.
But as I think more and more, it becomes more real. It is starting over. The inability to drive, the medication changes, and the fear in my everyday life. Another round of working through the anxiety that comes with epilepsy.
This came completely as a shock to me. I have been following my guidelines closely. I had slept 10 hours the night before, drinking plenty of water, and making sure to limit my alcohol intake. The first two episodes gave me at least some clarity because they were explained – first because of dehydration and second, because of lack of sleep.
This time, the lack of reason behind this seizure leaves me scared out of my mind. I’m not sure how to move past this one. To stop being scared of something that I can’t even put a name to.
I was just 2 days away from being 10 months stable. I was grateful for every single day of those 10 months, but I wanted more than anything to get to a year, I was so close to that. After I left the hospital that day in August, I thought that we had the answers. I was so relieved that it was over. I guess it was stupid for me to think that.
It’s 1:00 in the morning and I can’t seem to sleep. It’s technically Wednesday, so I’m not breaking any blog rules. Right now, my words seem like the only thing that I feel I’m in control of.
This situation has left me feeling helpless and so lost. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Monday was supposed to be calm and healthy, not another day of crisis. Not something scarring that I vividly remember.
Honestly, this week, I don’t really have anything inspiring to say. I wish I could find something wise or positive in this, but right now I’m all out. I don’t have an artsy picture to match with it, either. I’m sorry for that.
Sometimes, you are thrown back to the start. You are forced to work even harder than before and overcome more than you thought you could handle. There’s no pressure to be positive right away. You can take a minute to yourself to just decompress and be upset. That is okay.
Some days, you just have to get through and hope that an answer comes along. It will, soon.