This post is dedicated to all my peoples living in the struggle, for each and every one of you who have ever experienced the misfiring of electricity in your brain that has left you feeling alone and confused, left you bruised and cut, without the simple freedoms in life that make it worth living, don’t worry you aren’t alone. You know very well who you are, don’t let them hold you down, reach for the stars.
I know, I know, it’s been a long time and I don’t want to hear any bitching about the year-plus it’s been since I’ve updated. Every time I’d sit down to update about where my life was I’d just end up crying my fucking eyes out, so the laptop sat away for months a source of pain. All I could think was that nobody wanted to hear about how seizures were wrecking my life, and how nothing had changed, AND in fact for a bit things on the seizure front got worse – I had a monster stay in the hospital last summer that resulted in family drama, redonkulous medical bills (that I’m just adding to the enormous fucking Kilimanjaro-sized pile), but DID lead to answers about where the seizures might be coming from.
Catamenial epilepsy is a subtype of epilepsy, which is a chronic neurological condition characterized by recurrent seizures. Catamenial epilepsy is a subset of this population, which includes women of whom their seizure exacerbation is aligned with their menstrual cycle. Women with catamenial epilepsy are unusually sensitive to endogenous hormonal changes.
Who has a giant floral feminine uterus tattooed on her thigh? Yep, this girl. Psychic much? So, the past few months have been finding the balance between birth control (to hopefully help regulate periods and hormones), anticonvulsants, mood-stabilizers (because you need those on the mind fuck that is anticonvulsants) and every day is a constant balance between wanting to cry, wanting laugh, and wishing the next seizure I had would snap my neck and leave me dead.
I’m sorry if that’s kind of jarring or too honest but sometimes I wake up next to my furry miniature schnauzer Manolo and I look at him and wonder what cosmic lesson is to be learned from all of this and I just cry hot tears that soak my cheeks. I may not of been the most sucessful person in the world when the seizures started but I was on my way and I had some momentum, now I feel like I just stagnate. When I feel this way I try to stay busy, to keep my mind from screaming at me that my brain is defective and that I’m useless but nothing seems to work.
What seems to compound these feelings is that my 29th birthday is right around the corner and with another year fastly approaching I take inventory and it’s just a crap-shoot. I remember being so excited about life and now I wonder what the point might be? And I don’t think it gets any better or not for some bitch with epilepsy. The only reason I’m probably still here is because I don’t have a bottle of sleeping pills to Anna Nicole myself to sleep with.
I’ve been trying to think of ways to make money, selling off clothing that’s too big, sewing, make up. But everyone wants something for nothing and nobody cares about anyone except themselves, so I haven’t been making a lot of money and business is difficult.
I was talking to my Mother on the phone a few days ago, she let me know an aunt of mine was in SoCal with my cousin who is a semi-pro skateboarder. So I texted her to send love and wish him luck, I was met with a barrage of texts about how they couldn’t see me and were too busy. It wasn’t my intention to try to get in their mix but it did add to my feelings that even family could give a fuck about you and what you’re going thru. And this is very indicative of what I’m feeling in my life right now, I find myself retreating into my alone time a lot, in my room with my dog and my thoughts trying to keep to myself.
If you don’t know, now you know.