Sorting it out; a year later

A year ago I sat in front of this computer in complete anger and frustration. That’s when the seizures returned and I started the mad science lesson with medicine that really isn’t quite over just yet. A year ago I was mad at epilepsy and I was mad at brain injury and I was mad that they were messing with me again. Yes, I’m a control freak. I’ll admit it. Guess what? I can’t shake my finger at my own brain and tell it to shape up. Well, I can, but it doesn’t do any good.  I needed some time to release the anger and move on to acceptance before I could start working towards healing again. In so many ways that seems like yesterday and it seems like an entire lifetime ago. In all honestly, I’m not completely over my anger, I’ve just refocused that anger into something more worthwhile than self-destruction.

I have to give props to my family who put up with the likes of attitudes out of me of the last year that I probably would not believe I actually displayed. People who have never had to take drugs for your brain may never understand what it feels like to look in the mirror and not recognize the face, to answer a question and yet not understand your own the response, or to find yourself lost in the city you have called home for 35 years. I’m dealing with it all. I pound it all out in the pavement every week.

There’s one thing that I had hoped would come back over the last year, and it hasn’t. In fact, it has progressively gotten worse. I’m not so much mad, it just makes me sad. I lost a great deal of my ability to really express myself after my brain injury. I know…many of you may disagree, but Johnny, or my Mom or Sharon, (and they know it doesn’t hurt my feelings to be honest about it either) will agree with me on this point. They know. I lost the ability to verbally express myself, yet I found I could express myself through writing.  My blog was such a source of comfort and release for me.  But my new medicine has….well…I can’t find the words for it…now even my written words are a lot slower, or just not there at all. So now everything I feel, and experience stays pretty much bottled up inside me but is swelling in every direction. But I can’t comprehend the swells or begin to let the swells overflow onto paper, so the foam continues to bubble up. I’m not really mad about it anymore, maybe frustrated, maybe annoyed. The trade-off is that this medicine is keeping the seizures away. Seems like a small price to pay for life, right. I’m a mom, seizure free is my goal, I have to accept swelling foamy bubbles not matter how much they confuse me.

So, I’ll keep refocusing my ______ into something more worthwhile. Please don’t stop reading my blog just because I’m not posting as often, it’s just because I can’t figure out how to say what’s on my mind. I’m still busy though, If you haven’t already heard about my worthwhile venture…click the link below. I gotta do something to find a better drug than this one…this is the best way I know to do that!  http://epilepsytherapyproject.myetap.org/fundraiser/2012PHLMarathon/individual.do?participationRef=3917.0.251389979

Good thing there is a lot of pavement left in Huntersville and a lot of miles left on my shoes. I tend to have a lot of energy to burn, for good reason. Maybe one day I can explain.

Copyright © Gatewood Campbell, July 2012

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