Stories from Our Advocates

They say it strikes like lightning, but that’s not true. With lightning, there is warning: clouds, rain, a storm maybe. But with this, blue sky and no warning.

When the inevitable happens and the seizure strikes, I am transformed.

As if I drank the potion to grow larger, my body reaches skyward. I tower over those around me, and the ground seems so very far away. My hands and feet grow bigger, Hulk-like, and nearly impossible to move. My hands are useless, heavy barrels that my arms can’t lift. Growing taller, my legs and arms stretch and weaken until they are the equivalent of wet noodles. If I don’t sit now, I will fall. But getting all the way down there is difficult. It is so far, and my legs are so shaky.

Now on the ground, the seizure grips me with more force. The world is morphing now. Things are different colors more vivid, images more crisp, but also strange. I am moving slowly in a world that sped up. I’m falling into a giant swirling hole and desperately trying to stay conscious. It moves faster, and the tunnel becomes smaller, darker. Fearing that if I lose consciousness I won’t survive, I fight desperately to stay awake. Clawing at the world, focusing on my breath, my heartbeat, anything to stay here.  Awake. Alive.