The Life of Glory

Once upon a time my parents were told by psychiatrists that I was anorexic and had a panic disorder.  Anorexic because no one bothered to mention that a loss of appetite is a common side effect of anti-depressants in young children. I was institutionalized for not eating and then hospitalized when I could hardly stand on my own. I was 10 years old. A panic disorder because I had a phobia of vomit and didn't know how to handle being overwhelmed by chaotic situations. Fast forward to college and I had learned how to panic over new situations without hyperventilating. I even learned how to handle vomit to a degree. However, my symptoms got worse. I started going paralyzed out of the blue, without panicking over anything . New symptoms arose like extreme dizziness, muscle weakness, mental confusion and disorientation. So I became distraught and even depressed. Then one day, in a delightfully hot bath with melancholy thoughts, I suddenly found myself breathing water. I FREA

I remember one particular seizure in college that started teaching me how to deal with my non-epileptic seizures.   At the time, my college shared a building with a church. There was a full sized couch in one of our practice rooms (it was a music college) that doubled as a nursery. I often went to that room when I felt a seizure coming on so I could lay down safely and not repeatedly hit my head on a hard floor.  This particular day my blood pressure tanked out of the blue during my seizure. So I was laying on the couch, completely paralyzed and lightheaded, with beads of sweat lightly covering me. My heart rate dropped and I remember asking God to kill me right then and there. I was ready. I was so tired.  Very clearly, it was like someone whispered next to my ear, "not yet." I remember crying angry tears then. It was all I could do. Then someone found me, turned on the light, and asked if I was ok. I couldn't answer but for a few quiet, stuttered words. I

Have you ever felt betrayed? Alone? While in church? I did. One too many times. Having "mental problems" while being involved in church is okay until you become "too much" for people to handle. This is the hard lesson I learned. Over and over again. Until I got to the point where I wanted nothing to do with church or God. What's the problem? I'm a strong-willed, tenacious, and logical woman with NES (non-epileptic seizures). My seizures are a result of PTSD from a lifetime of trauma, including being told  I had mental problems without having had them. At least, there is no evidence that my "problems" were legitimately mental disorders. Yes, I experienced depression and was suicidal after  the psychiatrists and medication and pressure. Who wouldn't be? When you are expected to be suicidal, how can you not be? These phantom  problems followed me to every school, every college, every job. Before I knew it was NES or how to deal