Cat - my monster...

Epilepsy has never dictated my life. I chose to manage it instead.  At first it was like a horrible monster that would swoop down and clutch me unawares and carry me off. When I woke I would ache as if it had trampled and stomped all over my body. My head screeched and throbbed. 

Where had this monster come from? Why had it chosen me? Would it ever leave me alone? 

I searched for answers, in books, through counseling, on videos and through Epilepsy Queensland. 

Slowly I got to know it, to understand it, and to minimize its attacks. I did this by charting its rampages and documenting date, time, contributing circumstances and climate, over a period of years, and thus learnt my personal triggers. I came to recognize its coming, and avoid it. I’d feel a hollowness, and butterflies that were a pre-warning of it stalking me.  Then I could stay at home, or in bed to reduce possible danger.  Sometimes by doing this, it would simply return to its lair.   

I began to collect armour. A helmet of adaptability, a breast plate of good sense, a visor of care, amulets of persistence, a sword of courage, and a warm cloak of sensitivity.  One day I found a handsome steed called “Independence”. Independence is not always sure of foot, sometimes he does stumble, but the places he has taken me and the experience he offers have only made us stronger.  And you know what?  Nobody even sees him when he gets on public transport!  We have mastered all the public transport systems in Australia, and quite a few overseas. 

That monster does not control my life.  It is hardly a dot on the page.  Perhaps if the monster has been tearing at your door, damaging your paintwork, and causing you grief, you could try some monster taming too?