I don’t think there is an exact feeling I haven’t felt since my last episode. I’ve drowned the pain in loud music and as much busy work as I can handle. Hell, maybe more than I can handle. But I just keep going. That’s how it goes, you keep going until you don’t have any more in you. At least that’s the pattern I follow.
I’ve been told I do too much. I’ve been told that I need to rest. My nights have become restless, and my mind continues to wander. Don’t forget this. Did you make sure to do that? It becomes never ending. I don’t really know what it’s like to fully rest. Is it something you learn? Ha. I will say, it’s been added to my bucket list of things I’d like to make happen this year.
But back to the main focus of writing tonight. I was forced into tests on tests of my brain. It’s mainly to show the world what a genius’s brain looks like. (insert corny laugh) I actually had to take one to ensure that I didn’t have any abnormal growths, which I don’t. For that, I’m grateful. I have to make sure to continuously remind myself of that. Not that I don’t believe it, but I actually am. I’m grateful to still have my boys, my job and my ability to drive myself around. I know that at any moment it could be taken from me. Or vice versa.
The second test, an EEG, it wasn’t as pleasant. It’s why I felt the need to talk. It’s why I started to panic and think that something really is wrong with me. I got to lay down while a lady put wires and glue all over my head. I have excellent test skills. But my EEG said otherwise. It’s showing that maybe my wavelengths aren’t as strong as they should be. Maybe the medication I’ve been on for the past three years has been a waste. A waste of time and money. A waste of trial and error that could’ve been used on some other options.
I called my mom. I needed her. No matter how low I am, it’s something about her that reminds me of peace. It took her reexplaining that the medication I’m currently on is to control my seizures, it cannot fix my actual brain wave lengths. I will always have to live with epilepsy. Fudgeeescicle. I never ever wanted to believe that it was something I’d long term, forever and ever live with. A part of me still doesn’t want to believe it. I feel like maybe I’d be able to continue my semi healthy lifestyle and keep trudging along.
So what are my next moves?
I get to take another test in five weeks. I get to go to the neurologist and fight her on the medication she feels I need. I get to try other methods of relief that people may or may not feel a certain way about. Legally. I get to keep moving at this fast pace because it’s the only way for me to not go crazy. But most importantly, I get to spend the next seventy days with my boys and enjoying our summer together. Now that’s the best and most grateful feeling I can have right now.
We just don’t know what the otherwise outcome would be.