..If epilepsy were a person, I'd kick him in the teeth..

I should probably take a moment to introduce you to one of the most major parts of my life: Ezra :)

Ezra and I have been dating for 5 years. He is such a loyal, kind, patient (most of the time ;) hysterical, and real person. I love him to pieces and am so thankful that he has been a part of my life for so long. (For those that just stumbled upon my blog, the little girl in the picture on the right is his little sister Alex, who is 20 years younger than him!) Ezra has epilepsy. He didn't always! In fact, we had been dating for 4 years when he had his first seizure. We were on our way home from a warehouse job we were both temping at. He had been messing with the radio and I asked him a question. He didn't respond, so I turned to look at him. I was so caught off guard with what I saw that I didn't know what to think. I had never seen anyone have a seizure, so I honestly didn't know what I was seeing, but I thought it was a stroke, or a seizure. When he came out of it, his words were slightly slurred for a moment, and then it was like nothing had happened. He thought I was crazy, and had imagined it. I was terrified not to watch him every second. Just in case it might happen again. Little did I know on that one scary evening, that this very feeling would become a permanent one etched in the back of my mind, from that point on.

I'm glad I was watching like a hawk, because he did continue to have what we call "small" seizures. To the medical world, the type he has that we call "small" are called complex partial seizures. Loss of consciousness, repetitive movements (lip smacking, chewing, picking at clothes or hands) and amnesia surrounding event are common. Sometimes, small seizures can trigger a big seizure, also known as a tonic-clonic seizure (or formerly known as grand mal) where the entire brain is effected, all muscles contract and relax rapidly and cause major shaking, biting of tongue/lips, sometimes incontinence. When it is over, the person is exhausted and normally enters a deep (med term: postictal) sleep. 

After many seizures, many doctors, and many tests; Ezra was officially diagnosed.

Since then, life has been a whirlwind of testing, doctors appointments, neurologist appointments, medication changes, blood level checks, laughter, tears, frustrations, failures, and successes.

I could keep telling you all about the medical mumbo-jumbo that you probably don't care too much about. And I can appreciate that. So instead, I'll take this opportunity during epilepsy awareness month to share and educate others a little bit about how this disease has effected our lives, and the lives of those we love.

This month is epilepsy awareness month. I remember when Ezra was first diagnosed. I thought: Okay. He will take some medication, and not have seizures anymore. End of story!! Then he kept having them. That's the thing about this stupid disease. There isn't always a way to pinpoint whats causing it. Therefore there isn't always a way to know which drug to use to treat it. So they try a new medicine, up the dosage for a while, and then switch meds again. The side effects of the medication are arguably worse than the epilepsy itself. He is in a daily internal struggle to remain the person he is, and not the person the medicine makes him want to be. It is exhausting to watch...I cannot imagine the agony of living it day after day. It breaks my heart.

Ezra really is one of the funniest people I know (up there close to my sister, and my dad) He used to love to be around people, make people laugh. Be on the constant move doing things, seeing things, experiencing things. There are days now, when he gets out of bed, sits in a chair, and doesn't move for the rest of the day, because of the paranoia and anxiety he experiences because of the medication.

Its been a long, hard, crazy, educational experience thus far. And although everything changed that first evening, we have made a lot of progress.

This article isn't to make you pity Ezra, or feel sorry for him or me. It sucks, yeah. But there are worse things in life, and we can all deal with things that suck one way or another. The point is that everyone has something. And through our somethings it may seem really easy to get discouraged and depressed. There are times I am sure he's wanted to throw in the towel. It seems easier to NOT have to go through some things in life. But my mama always tells me that God never wastes a wound. No scar he leaves us is without purpose of a reminder of a lesson learned, or a testament to how he loved us through it.

Sometimes, even if it doesn't make too much sense in the moment, that's all we have to cling to.

so, Happy (ha. maybe not the most appropriate term) Epilepsy Awareness Month!

I know that although I'd love to kick epilepsy right in the teeth...waking up everyday with the determination to live life despite of the disease will be winning enough!

I am proud of YOU, Ezra.

You're my heart.

..most times when my heart breaks, it isn't for myself..

Why do you choose to hold on to hurts? To never let go of your past, or the wrong decisions. The ones that held you back, took things from you. After all, there are good ones too. Well, there are aren't there? Like the times you're waiting in line at the stoplight and let that old lady out in front of you..or send an xbest friend a text saying happy birthday..good things..but these are never significant for you.. Why? Why can't the small good things hold any type of significance? Why if one bad thing goes a little askew does it ruin the potential for anything positive? Why do you WANT pain? Is it simply because it feels so familiar that you're scared to feel anything else? You are so used to this numb feeling--the pessimistic, it will never end and I'm never going to be okay feeling that you've forgotten the familiarity of joy. The sound of a genuine laugh, the pain in your cheeks from your life being so full that you can't NOT smile.Can you reverse the familiar? Its not like you want to be miserable, is it?  Trust me, you'd rather be happy. I know...It's just hard to when you feel the life your living isn't the one you should be..and that the one you should be living, is unobtainable. But can't you be the you you used to be?  You DESERVE the person you were. The one that was so carefree, off the wall, goofy. Laughed often, cried next to never..and only cried because someone ELSE hurt, not yourself. The one that believed in life and happiness and fought for what their heart beat for. The thing is, you just have to remember what it was your heart beat for..and even though its right under your nose..it seems you may never see it.

..the name game..

I've spent my life trying to decide what I want to spend my life doing. Does this make any sense?

I remember being an awkward tweenager, with an absolutely horrendous uni-brow, and wishing/dreaming with all my heart to be a marine biologist solely because of my unwarranted obsession with manatees. I proudly used my vacation money one summer to purchase a t-shirt with a large manatee on the front. I bought a manatee pendant for a necklace, and was proud of being a supporter of the sea cow. Poor me,

Next, I wanted to be a psychologist. I wanted to work with young kids and fix everyone...SN: I know that those of you who really know me are rolling your eyes and thinking "oh imagine that, she wanted to fix everyone! Get off it ;)... So I entered the bright new world of college and took semesters of psychology courses, only to become THAT girl. Yes, her. The one that over-analyzes every situation and psycho-analyzes every person. Poor me

I was going to be the most amazing nurse the world had ever known. I'll make this explanation short and sweet. I was going to be the most amazing nurse the world had ever known, until I discovered that my stomach wasn't on my team. Poor me.

Teaching was absolutely my calling: until I taught. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE the kids, and I am good at what I do (if I do say so myself), but a lifetime of this?  I'll leave that for someone with much more patience, and grace than God blessed me with. Poor..oh, you get the point.

Currently, I am a Fashion Merchandising/Interior Design Major Business/Food and Nutrition minor. I'm going to own my own boutique/cafe. And its gonna be amazing! The good news about this? is that I love to cook, and have been doing so for years. I love. love. love. to sew, and have been doing this for years as well. And I especially love to redecorate. Its funny how people always tell you to find a job doing what you love and it won't feel like work. I've never really understood that concept until I picture my life with a "job" where I sewed, cooked, created, laughed, and lived. How fun.

I know. How absolutely unacceptable it is of me to post a cliche post like this just as you are trying to get to know me. But seriously; there is a lot to be said of abandoning the everyday pressures of this overly stressful life, and finding your comfort zone, or "happy place". Mine just happens to be designing and creating projects, in a pink house, in  (what some may call) the projects.

..Here I am...Perfect As I'm Ever Gonna Be..

I love everything artsy or creative. I would be completely content spending the whole of my free time, and free money between Michaels, JoAnns, and AC Moore. (OH! and throw in the occasional yard sale for fun furniture to refinish, and I am TRULY in Heaven.)

I am a free spirit. I like to do things outside the box, and this reflects in my art as I rarely measure, think through, or pre-plan. I am truly a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants type girl. Obviously this approach leaves quite a bit of room for error. Or at least some would see it that way. I see it as quite a bit of room for character. For beautiful changes made from a combination of small, irrelevant blemishes and major, near detrimental mistakes. The beautiful thing about creating something, is that you have the freedom to make it uniquely yours. Mistakes, cover-ups, embellishments and all.

The Arts are what I love. I spend my free time in front of a sewing machine, paper, pencils, markers, ribbon, glue, scissors, ovens, icings, and all kinds of in betweens. Often, my hand slips..and the colossal whoopsie has the potential to ruin my progress; yet instead becomes a beautiful creative addition that looks like it was meant to be there all along. Perhaps therein lies the beauty...perhaps it was meant to be there all along.

I am far from perfect. And although I have learned many lessons the hard way I know that my scars are shaping me into something beautiful. I may still be climbing through the Brier patches and looking for the path..but I know my masterpiece will come together eventually. Exactly the way it was meant to, all along.

Check in on me as much as you'd like. I'm quite clumsy, and not the most level-headed...so while I attempt to create my masterpiece there are bound to be some laughs, tears, steaming ears, asterisk, falls, fights, embarrassing moments, and LOTS and LOTS of love.