My Seizure Story

My seizure story is triggered by stress and rapid emotions. I was diagnosed at 10 years old and had my first seizure at the beach, nearly drowning underwater. My second seizure happened during school lessons. I fell asleep, woke up, and was told I had a seizure. After that, I continued having seizures in school.

Struggles during my teenage years

My teenage years were the worst. As a kid, I didn’t know much about my symptoms or condition. I was always frightened, just trying to live a normal life like everyone else.

I always had trouble learning. Whenever I focused too deeply on an activity—taking tests, reading, or overworking—stress would trigger my seizures. Stress is everywhere, and it was difficult to manage. I would struggle to breathe and sometimes couldn’t speak. I couldn’t handle arguments, fights, or loud, aggressive people.

When I took my medication, I felt a little in control, but as a teenager, I sometimes blamed the medication. I was never sure if it was the cause. There were times when someone would lightly tap me on the head, and I would have a seizure.

The pain of seizure heat

What hurts the most is the headache and the burning fire that lights up my emotions, making it hard to think. Sometimes, it makes me feel like I’m going crazy. That burning fire is what I call "seizure heat." It’s when I don’t have a fever or illness, but my body temperature feels like it’s burning hot, triggering my brain cells. This can either put me into a deep sleep or cause intense mood swings, depending on the situation.

I experienced this a lot. I remember a time when a girl I didn’t like said something to me while I was going into a seizure. The one I did like convinced her to stay with me, even though she was tormenting me. I didn’t know exactly what she said, but I later learned she was trying to break something off with me—even though we had nothing to break. She still managed to torture me, consistently acting like a crazy psycho.

I could never be with the girls I truly liked because they had other people in their lives, and my seizure heat triggered emotions that damaged whatever good we had together. Whether it was Hot Woman A or Hot Woman B, they were still my friends, but I had to keep my distance to avoid doing something I might regret.

The worst year of high school

My final year of high school was the worst. I wasn’t just constantly bullied—I was overwhelmed by stress from exams, unfinished assignments, and studying difficulties. I wasn’t getting the help I needed. My friends and teachers were too busy. The good teachers who used to help me had left the school, and the remaining ones were hard to find.

I was beaten up as a joke. Some kids would purposely hit me in the head because they knew it would trigger a seizure, which would interrupt class and force the teacher to stop the lesson. They enjoyed doing this, knowing I would suffer. Even my silence seemed to bother them. When I spoke, my words didn’t come out the way they should.

I was followed home many times just to be attacked. The only person who saved me was a drug dealer from my neighborhood who stepped in to protect me. After that, my seizures became more frequent.

The effects on my memory and mental health
For my exams, I didn’t do too well. Did you know that having a seizure is like pressing a reset button on your brain? When you go into shock, you might have to relearn things because a seizure can wipe away parts of your memory.

I had a lot of suicidal thoughts. I still do. But I try my best not to go down that path.

Life after high school

After high school, I went to the doctor. They told me they were going to take me off my meds, and if I didn’t have another seizure, I wouldn’t need to come back.

I was off my medication for five years. Within that time, I was experiencing seizure symptoms but didn’t realize it. When I turned 23, things got worse. During those five years, I had been partying a lot, and the alcohol weakened me. Or maybe it was just the lack of medication. I became a terrible person.

I was constantly in pain. I couldn’t take it anymore—especially after my mother, the one person who helped me through everything, passed away. Everyone else in my family was too busy to take me to the doctor, or they triggered my seizures with their actions. My mother used to sit with me, help me figure out my problems, and make sure I had a good life. Now, things are difficult because my condition affects my ability to work.

Struggles with work and survival

This world runs on money. Everything costs money—even anti-seizure pills. I have to buy extra because doctors don’t supply enough to last until my next appointment.

I’m stressed out from being unemployed. Nobody wants to hire someone who falls down all the time or moves too slowly. I have to take my time with everything. I try not to overwork my brain. But then there’s the constant fear of what could happen if I go out in public.

With the amount of crime out there, if I have a seizure, the first thing people might do is steal my wallet or phone instead of helping me.

Struggles with relationships

I can’t seem to find a good, honest woman. When I get nervous, I get stressed, which triggers seizure heat, leading to critical episodes depending on the situation. Because of this, I keep my distance, hoping that a girl I like will come to me and make things easier.

Losing my youth to seizures

My 20s have been a struggle because I can’t even enjoy life. I’ve had to quit many things I once loved doing. It’s like I’ve been forced into a "straight-edge" lifestyle, but not in a proud way.

I struggle with sleep. Most nights, I make sure to get plenty of rest, but sometimes I can’t. I wake up in pain. When I was younger, I was full of energy. Now, in my 20s, I have low energy, like my body is using all its strength to fight the seizures from within. It hurts.

A dream that saved me

When I was at my worst, I was afraid and in denial, thinking my condition was caused by something else. I tried cutting out different things one by one, but nothing worked.

Then, I had a dream about Cameron Boyce, Jesus, and my deceased mother. They were comforting me because I felt like I wasn’t going to make it. In the dream, I was high up in the clouds, making a new friend—Cameron Boyce. We played PS5 together up there. Then, I spent time with my mom and Jesus.

That’s when I realized I was in the ICU for seizures. But Cameron told me I would be okay. That day, he saved my life.

A year later, Descendants 4 came out. Seeing the tribute to Cameron in the movie made me so grateful that Disney honored him. He was an amazing person—even saving people he never knew from beyond.

You deserve to be up there, brother. ⛅️✌️ Epilepsy Warrior Forever.