Epilepsy and Fairy tales…

I’ve spent the last couple of weeks going over and over and over again what has happened. I need answers, it’s just my nature. The issue is, I don’t know what happened and unless the cat decides to talk, I won’t know. So, turning over and over the after-effects of what’s happened, is closer to the truth of what I’m doing.

But what’s the point in doing that? Is it going to change anything or will I just wind myself up tighter? There are a few facts when it comes to my particular brand of epilepsy and how it affects me. Firstly, I remind myself that I’m lucky. I don’t have episodes as regularly as others do. Secondly, I have to remind myself that though I don’t fit as often as some, when I do, it hits me hard. It takes a while for me to recover and I’m not able to just get up, stand up and carry on as if nothing has happened. I often berate myself and see this as a weakness, but, well, it is what it is. I’ve learned the hard way that when I pretend to myself that I feel better than I do, I end up feeling worse for longer because I don’t allow myself the time that I need. And, I desperately need to be able to piece together what’s happened. What I did, who I saw, what the time line has been. I don’t fully understand why I need to do this. Actually I don’t understand it at all. But, I know that I do.
I’ve been alone when I’ve had episodes many times. The difference this time, is the length of time I went between seeing people. On other occasions, I’ve been able to work out the whats and whens because I’ve known I was a certain place, at a certain time and that there have been others to confirm when and where I subsequently turn up. I usually plague people to tell me what’s happened. I’ve written about that before. This gnawing need to know. I can’t know this time and I’m struggling to deal with that.
How many seizures did I have? Where was I when they happened? What caused the bruising and scratching? 
Someone said to me just to forget about it and move on. That’s the sensible thing to do isn’t it? For me, it’s also the hardest. I’ve been telling people the outcome of an appointment I never went to, for crying out loud!! What else have I done and said that’s just been utter rubbish? I believed I’d been. Granted, I have no recollection of going (obviously!), but I believed I did. I don’t know how to deal with that. I’m not sure how to square that away. My glorious brain. It took my imagination and made it real. Maybe I have a new career ahead of me writing modern fairy tales?! 
I have to see the humour in what’s happened. It is kinda funny. I knew what I wanted to happen, so my brain granted my wish and made it so. My sleep issues can be resolved by a healthier, cleaner lifestyle. Hoorah! And the ironic thing is, it is most probably true! And there’s the humour. Dark though it may be. Yet, I can’t help but feel afraid. I’m capable of this kind of deceit. Oh, I know, I know; the deceit isn’t deliberate, but it’s there and it’s real. What other tall tales have I told? This one was uncovered because it was a clinical appointment, registered with various bodies and its a bit of a big deal when you just don’t turn up. But what’s out there that’s hidden? Not even necessarily from this episode, but from others? Now that thought, that really could push the limits of what I can cope with!
So, what is the point of turning it round and round in my mind? Well, rational Kirsty says there isn’t one. My rational side knows that I won’t ever know what happened, how often it’s happened or, indeed, why it happens. Yet, I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m sure I will eventually, when my day-to-day shifts back in to gear, but at the moment I just can’t. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why I always try to get back to “normal” before I’m really ready? It’s my way of pushing the thoughts that I don’t want to think, because I can’t process them, to the recesses of my mind. Maybe that makes a modicum of sense. But, when I push myself back to quickly, I end up worse for longer. There is a lesson in there I think.
But please, if I may beg a favour of you, if we happen to be talking about it and I’m trying to make sense of it, please don’t just tell me to forget about it and that it doesn’t matter and it’s not important. It is to me.

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