Those like me.

I recently discovered epilepsy.com, a website founded by people living with epilepsy - in other words, those like me. I am in love with this website. It's helping me to get outside of the scientific and into the hearts and minds of others who are living with the condition. I know I said that I'd make this blog into a blog about other things besides epilepsy, but it turns out that I'm a liar. I find myself nodding in agreement or posting an answer to someone else's question on a daily basis - this is such a fantastic gift for those living with epilepsy.
One of the things that I'm amazed about is how I've come to embrace epilepsy - I didn't ever think that I would like being epileptic, but I think I do....does that make sense? Embracing what others consider a disability is unusual - but more importantly, it's empowering. As I read others' stories about their experience with epilepsy, I'm amazed. I have so much to learn about my own affliction - I thought I knew everything, but I don't! And ironically, two years of learning to embrace a condition has caused me to learn a great deal about it, and it's allowed me to give feedback to other people's comments and answers to their questions. It fills me with the deepest satisfaction to know that I'm interacting with my peers. They may be 66 years old, or a mother of three, or a college student going through nursing school - and I can relate to all of them.
In particular, there have been many discussions about leviteracetam, or Keppra, which happens to be a medication that I'm intimately familiar with. I've read about others who are scared of taking the medication because of what they've heard about it - and I've read horror stories about how leviteracetam messed up people's lives, and so on. The pattern I'm noticing is the amount of despair exhibited by so many who visit the website - the tone of their questions suggests shame, anger, humiliation, and sadness. I remember a time in my life when I felt the exact same way. In so many ways, I'm a neurologist's dream: the medication works for me. But there's story after story and comment after comment that screams the opposite: no medication works for them, and they hate being epileptic. Part of me wishes I'd found this site soon after my diagnosis, and yet I'm so happy that I've only found it now, because had I been exposed to the depression and angst of so many others, epilepsy might've gotten the best of me.
Do you ever notice how the obsession with despair blur all possibilities of hope? Epileptics need to vent and relate to others who understand them, but sometimes that's where the therapy stops. As a result of this revelation, I've got to commit myself to being positive and offering encouragement whenever the opportunity arises. After all, I think that's what I may be good at.
Maybe God chose to let me have epilepsy so that I could help others who have it. I think that's why He likes me better as an epileptic.
We all have afflictions - and it varies for everybody, but you can only conquer the affliction by embracing it; not running from it. Acknowledge every part of yourself, not only the parts that you like. =)