complex partial seizures, depression, drugs, epilepsy symptoms, living with temporal lobe epilepsy, living with TLE, prescription medication, prescription medicine, temporal lobe, temporal lobe epilepsy, temporal lobe seizures, TLE
Last night, I got into bed knowing I was showing the warning signs of a seizure on the way: nerve pain, irritability, and a sudden feeling of anxiety. Lately, I have been trying not to run to the Valium bottle when I think I am going to have a seizure. The Valium seldom stops it. It merely helps with the physical aftermath. But it can hide certain signs before, during and after the seizure. I want to know and to separate my feelings from those generated by the electric cocktail in my brain.
I got into bed and moved around a lot, failing to get comfortable. My husband began to read out loud. He does this for me because the sound of a human voice is very soothing to that restless part of my brain.
I closed my eyes and listened to the words until I felt the electricity rising in my body. I tend to think of it as a wave that washes over me. Everything behind my eyelids went yellow, like intense sunlight as the wave passed over. My husband’s voice was in the background, but I was looking into pure sunlight. Gold rain fell on me as the electricity danced across my skin, my eyelids, and my mouth. I felt a tightness in my chest, twisting of my gut, and a lifting of my body.
I was sad when the electricity slowly faded and stopped. Sad, because the beautiful sight was gone, leaving in its place the chemical cocktail in my brain that produced pain, nausea, anxiety, and depression.
It’s sometimes easy to believe God is speaking directly to you during showers of light and other seizure experiences. But, who’s to say he isn’t?