#spilled tears
Dear Readers,
I wanna sit down with you.
In the middle of 2018.
As you know, I have epilepsy.
I had an orchestra concert (For school), the last one of the school year to be specific.
The president of the orchestra student council (As I like to call it) moved.
So my friend was picked to do the speech instead.
During my friend’s speech…
It’s the last thing I remember.
Then the next second…
When I blinked…
When I opened my eyes again…
The audience weren’t in their seats.
I wasn’t sitting down with my cello listening to my friend’s speech.
I was laying on the floor…
With paramedics and my parents around me instead.
They took me home in the ambulance.
I remained a scar in my heart.
Why?
I had epilepsy…
No doubt, I knew that.
My friends knew that.
My family knew that.
The church I went to knew that.
After all, I said it on a microphone at church.
But…
Now a bunch of strangers know that too.
At church, I wanted them too…
But I didn’t want the entire school to know…
Now they treat me differently…
They stare…
They treat me nicer than other people…
I feel like a fucking a sick, depressed, excluded, alien.
Is there something wrong with being epileptic?
Yes, it’s horrible to have.
But I’m still a person.
I still feel.
I still have questions.
Will I ever be able to play again? Everything reminds me of the concert.
I’m too traumatized. Am I even traumatized?
Why has almost everybody changed?
Why didn’t somebody just turn on the A.C.?
How long was the seizure?
How many people helped?
How many people faked their smiles after I regained consciousness?
How many instruments were damaged?
Why wasn’t I told I may have a seizure in the heat?
How many people didn’t care?
How many people knew about epilepsy?
How many people did not know?
How many people believed in the stereotypes of epilepsy?
I know my questions will never be answered.
But I want the world to know from my point of view.
There’s one question only the future can answer…
Will I ever be able to touch and/or play my cello again?
