On the experience of epilepsy

Teenage adolescence might be the most confusing, most emotional point in a person’s life—a vast collection of stressful experiences lumped into only 4 or 5 years. It is a period when we start recognizing the opposite sex, when we finally experience a little parental freedom, when we take on new responsibilities, and—unfortunately—when we truly reap the consequences of our decisions. However, it is also when we finally undergo a difficult period of self-discovery. We begin asking ourselves vital questions, such as “Who am I? What am I all about?”

I began asking myself these questions at age 16 when I began having epileptic seizures, and let me tell you, my period of self-discovery was not easy. Of course I knew I was having some medical problems, but at the time I was not even aware I had been diagnosed with “epilepsy.” In fact, I never heard the word until I was 21 years old and finally able to speak with a doctor myself. Why? Because my parents were ashamed of admitting I had epilepsy. No, they were terrified of it. When I eventually asked them why I had never been told I have epilepsy, why I had to find this out on my own, they said, “Because no son of ours has epilepsy.” They were convinced my diagnosis meant I was possessed by an evil spirit or that my epilepsy was a punishment from God. It was a sign that someone in our family had committed a major sin, thereby making them concerned about what others would think.

I was dumbfounded and terribly hurt. I resented them for never telling me of …