Fear. Broken In My Brain. Epilepsy. Love.

IMG_1876This past week was a lot to take. The honesty I got out today when sending a voicemessage to my soul friend all the way to Canada, it came out with tears, anger, sadness, laughter, all.

What that one epilepsy seizure last week managed to do, was way bigger than I ever thought possible, probably because I haven’t thought the whole decease in over 13 years… Or maybe at some points between that time 13 years ago and now, but less and less all the time.

I have been so angry to myself, to my epilepsy, for messing up something I thought don’t need any messing up. I was crying today while on a walk in stormy weather. Crying because I was tired of taking one thing after another this past year, like I’m made of some unbreakable matter that is ready for whatever the world has to throw.

I remember when I got my last big seizure, I was just about to turn 18 and my first thought at the doctor was that “can I have children?”. I remembered that today, and wondered do I still worry that same thing now after my last seizure. Honestly, not sure. I had so many years that I didn’t even want kids, so now I have no idea.

What the seizure did, was that it just pulled the carpet under me and left me wonder what to do with all the feels… I’ve felt more than broken and lost and sad and mad and angry and afraid.

It brought back this deep rooted fear. Fear of me being okay. If no one ever will love me with my broken brain. It dumped me in my depression and insecurities of not being worthy. Being worried of all the tiniest “not normal” feelings in my body. Fear if it’s okay to do this or that, because what if I get another one?

What epilepsy does, is wire your brain the way it’s not supposed to for a brief moment. You lose a unspecified moment of your life and you have no idea what happened in that moment. Other than leave you with bruises, cuts and blood on your hands. It leaves you with unsure feeling and worry of what just happened. You don’t understand why people are talking to you calmly and asking you simple questions and why they say that the ambulance is coming.

I remember thinking, long time ago, that some higher power must think that I’m strong enough to carry so many confusing, forever deceases. That there has to be a reason why I have epilepsy and depression. Both confusing and with no reason why. I guess my brain has been a bit broken since I was born. Maybe that’s what makes me so special, this is the part that my friend would be happy to read, and that’s why writing it makes me smile.

But today I really didn’t understand if I am supposed to be strong enough to carry these? Why me, why do my last year has to be a constant challenge? Mostly I felt sad, deep sadness that there needs to be something. I wanted to scream enough is enough!

At the same time, I remind myself how well things are in my life. Which almost makes me feel angrier, like I shouldn’t be allowed to feel all what I am, because I have to be grateful of the good in my life.

If something is certain, it is the fact that that one moment last Tuesday morning, made me feel confused and bring new perspective and honesty in my life. I hate that I can’t be as happy about certain things that I would normally. I hate that I need to feel sad now to feel better soon. I don’t want to dismiss all of this but I am tired of it. And I am more than tired to feel afraid again. Like I have to or need to prove something to myself again, after the work I’ve done to kick that useless fear to the curb.

One thing that made me feel really small was the thing that I needed to admit how much I miss being wanted and loved by someone, that special. I have no idea why it came so strong with this all, but it pushed it’s way to the surface and didn’t let me go before I said it out loud. It had nothing to do with me not loving myself, it has all to do with me wanting to feel special to someone. How beautiful would it feel if someone would say something like ” I know that your brain is broken and that you’re not perfect but that’s why I love you even more”.  This all doesn’t mean that I want to make something happen just for the sake of it, nope, but admitting that I would love to spend some time in the arms of someone nice and special, I need to admit that would be amazing.

How am I going to get rid of this fear that crept back in me?

I feel like I need to travel somewhere alone, even for few days to prove myself that I’m good. That I’m still all that hard work I’ve done, that it didn’t just disappear in that one moment. Be on my own and remember who I am. Get rid of this feeling that tries to make my insides dark again, which only makes me angry.

Like with all things, there’s good in this whole thing too. I know that I’m not alone with this. I have more love in my life than before, whether I’m missing that special one or not. My body is way smarter than me, so I should just listen to it. More less is more in the good way, of more water and good food and running and hugs and friends and one day that special hug, yep. I’ll promise to be better to myself and remember what are important to me under all that I thought are important.

LET YOURSELF FEEL WHAT NEEDS TO BE FELT. LOVE. SAY YOUR FEARS OUT LOUD. LOVE. CRY. FEEL THAT SADNESS TO FEEL BETTER. YOU DON’T ALWAYS HAVE TO SMILE. PMA ❤

No. Just, NO!

Depression, I’m so tired of you! I’m angry at you! I’m pissed of that you come and try to knock me down when I feel my weakest! Not anymore! NO!

For the first time ever, I am angry at my depression. This time it got me so out of nowhere that I had no idea before it was all in and on me.

It’s been a rough 6 months and now, all of sudden, I have time to feel and think everything that has happened. And that meant that I had so power in me anymore. I was out of it all. I miss my boyfriend like crazy, I miss us. I miss my friends so much. I miss a place I’ve never even been to yet. I feel like I’m stuck and don’t know how to get out.

Today, I felt that I need to try to articulate how this all feels. And the hardest for me is to say that I’m depressed(again)to my closest person. Though he and all who are close to me, know that usually before me. But the fact that I say it to him, makes me feel ashamed. No reason for that, but it does.

When I’m depressed, my mind messes with my all. It tells me that I’m no good. That my boyfriend doesn’t want to be with me anymore. That it can kick me down and that I have no choice of getting back up. That it can just suck me in it’s darkness. It lies to me, so much that I have to fight it to get out. It tries to make me believe that I have no good in me. Nothing to keep fighting. That I haven’t gone forward. It lies to me to my core. It tries to be the master of me.

But this time, I understood the situation. I said what makes me mad, what it all feels like. I felt that through all the darkness and sadness, I was the one who decided what’s going to happen. Maybe it was so, because I said out loud that I am depressed, which is hard for me. No matter how much I am able to write about it. In a way I felt like I have some control of the situation, even though I felt like I was drowning in it all.

What I am happy about, so happy, is that I have few people that I am able to talk about this all. My boyfriend is the one who can make me feel like it all will be okay, with only listening and being there for me. Talking about this all is definitely my savior. I might have a tendency to be too much alone, to now get myself out and about and try to give myself other things to think than this. But I am trying to get better, I tried really hard today to not be alone with this all. I was alone, but with the best companion I could think of. Three and a half hour walk with my dog, that stuff heals your soul. And I miss having him with me all the time. But today, he healed me. Maybe that sounds weird but I’m pretty sure dog owners understand me on this.

I’m so tired of depression. I am tired of having that as a burden to carry. I hate what it does to me. I wish that I wouldn’t have to cry my eyes out at times and feel like I have nothing in me. I have more tools to live with it, and I don’t fall in to it that often. But maybe that’s the reason why those falls feel that much worse. I wish that someone could punch me so hard on my head that the force would just shoot the depression out of me. Wishful thinking…

I think it’s progress that I am angry at it. I’m not giving it all the power anymore. I’m really fighting. Maybe I’m getting the better of it this time, and I wish that I am able to keep this like this.

PMA ❤IMG_6534