An Invisible Disease....

AN INVISIBLE DISEASE (for all the other epileptics out there...)

   epilepsy is one of the many diseases in this world that you
don't see unless it's happening that very moment. you might see the
evidence afterwards, but like a chameleon these remnants could be
clues to a beating, a fall, or a car accident, there are endless
possibilities. this is why i call epilepsy an invisible disease. and while there
are advantages, all of the advantages come with a nasty flip side,
which i guess you could say of most anything. but it feels like a
petite mal- one moment you're walking along and quicker than you can
snap you're fingers, you've gone down to the floor and back up again.
and while harnessing that could make someone a phenomenal dancer the
reality is it produces huge amounts of anxiety, it's scary, and
although it's generally a physically impossible feat your body has
just pulled off, you're generally sore somewhere, and have probably
freaked at least a couple of on-lookers out. the dichotomies are
always there. one of the best things is you don't get that look you do after
a grand mal. every time someone looks at you, you know the look of, oh,
poor girl (boy, etc.)...all the various shades of pity, sometimes with disdain,
embarrassment,fear, disgust, anger, or some mix there of. that means
however, it becomes so much more powerful when someone you love has
just seen you have a seizure, and now you get one of these looks. i
know they can't help it, but... well, i can only speak for myself
here, but it can only make me feel more isolated than i already feel
after having a seizure. as anyone who has them knows (or even anyone
who has something long term that people closest to them can't fix or
completely relate to) there's only so much you, or they can say about
it. for me, after i've had a seizure, and actually confirmed that yes i
have had a seizure, although i need to talk about it, i need to cry,
there is nothing to say. there is no one to say it to. i have tried-
but i can't even think of anything to say. and no one really knows
what to say to me- they just keep looking at me that way. which is far
worse than not talking to anyone. so i lay alone, sleep off the
seizure lag, and thank the herky jerky gods for not killing me or
putting me in a wheel chair.