Battling long-term physical conditions takes its toll on you. Day by day, you trudge along, hoping for a brighter future or some kind of relief. If I went a few days without a seizure I would think, wow, if only this could last. But it didn’t, and my bubble was burst, and you can understand why so many of us dealing with incurable physical conditions also end up taking antidepressants. I did, and there is no shame in that.
Travel with me back to one of my scariest episodes… here’s my journal from November 11, 2005:
    What an awful week I’ve had. Starting Sunday, when I spent the entire day in the ER. Sunday morning I woke up not knowing what day it was, where I was, why I was getting up, & utterly confused. I remembered NOTHING of our trip to Ga in Oct, it was hard to believe I’d actually been there. 
Saturday night I had a seizure while we were just relaxing, & Wayne said I had another one during the night that lasted longer than usual. Maybe I had more, or maybe it was an especially intense one, but I was SO frightened to have no memory of the trip. Wayne called the on-call neuro who said go to the ER. And I cried throughout the day, asking lots of questions, trying to gather the pieces of the puzzle to slide into place. I remember hugging Wayne, telling him how scared I was. He was scared too, crying with me.
 And I had no idea what was going on- I could barely figure out where I was. That was the most frightening experience I’ve ever had, period. They gave me IV seizure meds & did an MRI, said increase my Keppra and call my main neuro Monday.

In the coming days the missing memories slowly returned. Still, the seizures continued, all hours of the day, and so I lived in fear of “when will the next one happen?”
Depressing, yes. Hopeless? No, but I was hanging on by a thread those days. I couldn’t see any light at the end of my tunnel. I clung to my husband, my faith and my friends…and I still do.