At least, that’s what I had assumed at first. Up until now, everything in my life had been ‘normal’, it had been the typical life of a growing teenage girl. I had been a typical girl, surrounded by my peers and idols. I had never thought that everything would change in the blink of an eye; I never thought that reality could be so twisted that the truth was an absolute mystery.
But of course, that was a lie. My life wasn’t normal, and I wasn’t a typical teenage girl. I had seizures… Very violent seizures that would put me out of commission when they occurred. They were the type of seizures you would know was coming right at the last moment, where you couldn’t do a thing to hide away in a closet somewhere and be alone and invisible to the world so they couldn’t see your body seizing and twisting in ways that seemed inhuman. I didn’t want to be seen like that… to be thought of as a freak, a monster.
But that was a dangerous game to play, for seizing uncontrollably and being alone did not coincide. That could be the last thing I do in my life. Twitching and aching and feeling completely helpless in a place I did not want to be with no one at my side.
I didn’t want to be that way, I didn’t want to have to hide myself and feel like a freak, like I wasn’t normal just because my body did things that other people’s bodies didn’t do. I felt like a complete outcast just because I could not keep my physical presence under control like everyone else. I couldn’t ever be like them; do the things they did and live the lives they do. There would always be that threat in the back of my mind, it could happen at any second of any day and I just wouldn’t ever be able to predict it. If I were ever to do something a little risky or dangerous, my chances of getting hurt… or dying… were higher than theirs… because they would not have that chance of collapsing and losing control of everything.
A sense of normalcy, I had craved it with my entire being over everything else in the entire world I could have, I had just wanted to be normal like the rest of them. I wanted people to like me and not snicker behind my back, knowing I could hear them; call me things like “nose-bleed”. What had I done in another life to deserve such a curse? My parents had tried to be supportive, but I knew that I would never be anything but a nuisance and an annoyance. I knew my life caused them nothing but grief and empty pockets. There was no benefit to having a daughter like me…
How much better off would my family be without me? How much better off would everyone be? I disrupted classes with my uncontrollable outbursts of shivering and flailing that almost always ended with me crashing into something. I just wanted to poof out of existence. I just wanted to not be a burden any longer. I just wanted to not wake up in a hospital, to not have pain, to not be looked at as if I were a disgusting pile of garbage; I just wanted to be me, without all the bad.
I just wanted to start over and be born someone new. I wanted to forget.
I could not understand why I had to suffer. I could not understand why no one could love me. I could not understand why I was so outcast-ed for something I had no control over. I didn’t want to seize. I didn’t want to quiver and quake and scare everyone. I didn’t want my nose to bleed or my eyes to roll up into my head. I did not...
I could not control that...
And I was sorry for it.