Unwanted Prescription

There's a bottle that sits on my dresser.  Inside, there is one pill.  I keep it, as a physical reminder of someplace that I have been.  A few moments ago, I saw that bottle, and I had to express this.

For many years, from the time I was about 21 years old until a little less than 2 years ago, I spent most days thinking that there was a very good chance I'd have a seizure.  Between 2001 and 2008, I estimate that I have over 40.  Some of them, I never even told anyone about.  From the moment the doctors first decided that it was an unexplained condition that I was forced to live with, I tried my best to make myself believe that it didn't bother me, in the least.  I wasn't scared and wasn't going to let their diagnosis keep me from living.  But I was lying to myself.  The first one scared the hell out of me, and each successive one made me feel like my future would be filled with pain.  In the beginning, I was very bitter.  I kept asking why it was happening to me, and got upset when anybody tried talking about it.  I didn't really like to mention it, because in my mind, this made it real.  (Even though waking up in the Emergency room was constantly making it real.)

I hated taking medication.  At first, they had taking 6 pills a day, but eventually this was cut to 5.  There is something very depressing about knowing that you're doomed to take something for the rest of your life.  It feels like a death sentence, whispered in hushed tones.  And the feeling caused by so much medicine in my system sometimes felt worse than the so-called sickness it is supposed to make better.

On top of all of this, I was continuing to have seizures. So what does a seizure feel like?  I've heard this question asked so many times and first it used to make me angry.  Now, it simply makes me laugh.  To me it's like asking a paraplegic what's it feel like to not have legs.  NEWS FLASH, it damn sure doesn't feel good.  But I now at least understand the curiosity.

The best way I can describe it is to tell you to read this:  On Seizures

Basically that's what they feel like.  Or at least for me.  The feeling is this weird, scary separation feeling immediately before, and this "Humpty-Dumpty" aching and need to be put back together again feeling immediately after.  The feeling in between is like a literal void.

A little over two years ago, I stopped taking my primary medication.  I decided I didn't want to anymore.  I had 2 more seizures after making this decision, but it is one I will never regret.  People who have have to taken mood altering medications for years will understand me more than others.  It's been a little more than 5 months since I last took my secondary medication.  I decided that I didn't need it anymore.  Even though I'm no doctor, I feel like I know my body better than them.  I can admit that there are moments, when something odd happens in my mind and my old natural reaction, to panic, prepares itself.  But quickly, I calm myself down.  I remind myself of the one fact that made me last through each of them.

It'll never be scarier than that first one.  And, through the grace of God, I survived it.

Knowing that, I can smile, because I know that I'll be fine.

Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet