That Thing Called Acceptance…

First update in a quite awhile, six months of living a more settled life has been quite enjoyable. Last couple of years have been challenging with accepting the epilepsy thing, and to be honest, I can't quite wrap my head around it still.

Why is that?

My doctors can't even come to a conclusion on what exactly I have had no concrete evidence since my last diagnosis. Waking up on the floor randomly, seems to be suspicious but not a definitive indication of having any type of seizure. Good times!


I have to say that I'm quite lucky to have such a strong support system despite the terrible choices I tend to make with the worry of disappointing others. After an event not too long ago, I have to say the realities that have set in... are finally setting in. The number of modifications I have already made, and now the modifications I need to accept and realize for myself. Most of what I do is to not be an inconvenience to others or even worse, disappoint them. So, I keep my stuff to myself and deal with I need to. Lately, this opening up to others thing has brought me to tears - some have walked away and others have remained the solid people they are.

Travelling with the chance of having seizures isn't something I broadcast, it's a bit embarrassing given there is always a chance for episodes to occur and they aren't something I can control. I can't walk away, excuse myself, or what have you - they just happen.

Recently, I took my first vacation in awhile and although my friends knew, I still wasn't comfortable talking about the extent or details about it without feeling embarrassed or bursting into tears. It was clearly my fault for not being transparent, I have not adjusted nor really accepted it because my doctors can't sort it out. After a scary incident, I used humour to offset my fear since I was away from home and that's how I survive awkward/uncomfortable situations.. I laugh and deflect until I find a place to let the reality set in.

Some would call me irresponsible and others would call me a constant risk assessor, but at the end of the day... I realized that even my love of the ocean/water was another thing that needed to be limited. I've done a lot of insane things during my travels, but I love my life at home.

I absolutely love the people around me (even the constant teasing), and most of all, I wouldn't want to cause further concern for anyone in and around me. I'm poor at verbal communication when it comes to my feelings, but I've seen the support over the past week from those in my life who will always give me a hand when I fall, the funny meme to make the doctor's office less stressful, and the words of reassurance when I feel completely defeated.

Turning 35 was pretty rough with health and other hiccups, but I'm getting back on my feet and will be back on the travel docket in no time. Nothing too far until everything has sorted itself out, but as long as I operate happily within my parameters... It's all good.