Importance of Music and Fiction

So I've stated in my previous blog post high school wasn't exactly fun for me. I also began to realize I couldn't handle this whole epilepsy thing alone like I had originally thought. So I began searching for something that would make me feel better.
For me this is when I really began to appreciate music and when my story writing really began to take off. In fact it was in high school that a story I'm currently working on began to evolve. Of course that story has become much more complex and intricate over time, but it was the story that at the time was called "Trinity" that helped me through a lot of issues.
First I have to explain that while yes I came up with Trinity I can't take full credit. As many fiction writers would say it was the character that introduced herself to me and asked me to write her story. She came to me and still talks to me when I listen to music. Music is probably the thing this character is the most passionate about. 
While outlining and writing the first version of the story it felt like I wasn't alone. The strange thing is that even though I was angry at God and didn't want him near me my character was christian and loved God deeply. Maybe I was expressing feelings I didn't know I had.  The truth is that when I wasn't ready for God Trinity kind of stepped in and helped make me ready.
I know it's sounds strange and crazy that a fictional character could do all that, but she was and is with me all the time. She knew and knows how I feel and what I've been through. All though she isn't real she was the part of my mind that wasn't afraid to call me out when I was wrong or being a wuss about something. 
I suppose part of the reason I haven't finished her story yet is finishing her story means letting her and her sister go, but I think it's time I move on and let other fictional characters get to know me, but writing her story has been fun.
In high school it was fun to just shut the world out and spend time in her world while writing her story down. A world where I didn't have epilepsy and anything was possible. I found myself spending much of my spare time there even if I wasn't writing. This is why the story I am currently writing is so vastly different from the original. It was a place where everyone knew me and was content to leave me alone. It was perfect and if it weren't for my music and imaginary worlds I never would have been able to find God or deal with the epilepsy.

High School Hell

So I'll be honest if epilepsy had been my only issue in high school I would have been a well adjusted, happy teenager. School was never a happy place for me. In fact when I thought of hell I pictured school. I couldn't think of anything worse. To this day I still think of my old high school as the halls of hell. I understand that a lot of people have a great time in high school, but there is one thing that everyone needs to understand. Everyone knows about the cliques and fortunately the cliques kind of take a backseat after high school. Although I will say that because of my seventh grade my skin was thicker, but I was also extremely untrusting. I didn't let anyone new in in high school and I didn't make any new friends and I planned on keeping it that way. Something else needs to be said I also have a distrust to a certain degree of teachers because of Junior high and high school. I've had to many teachers that for some reason singled me out and picked on me because I'm an introvert (quite), played favorites, or showed up to school drunk. This makes my college experience more challenging because I'm always wondering if they grade fairly, if they actually know what they are talking about, but their are a few teachers I've come across that deserve praise. Mr. Sanders, Mrs. Williams, and one exceptional librarian at Davis College named Peggy. They all went out of their way to help students. They went above and beyond and treated students fairly.
As for cliques I wasn't in one. Between medication side affects and half worrying about having a seizure in school I forgot to try and fit in. So even many of what populars would call geeks and dorks ignored me not to be mean, but because they didn't know I was there. When someone uncomfortable with my quite ways decided to make it clear I wasn't welcome in their presence I would simply stop listening. Making them angrier and giving me a weird sort of pleasure out of watching their frustration. Although when their words did sink in I'd dive into a horror story or poem and usually through it away quickly after. I only kept a few to remind me of the hard time I went through.
Although my friend Lindsey seemed to make friends without trying and she made sure to drag me along to a few things. This is how I became involved in the high school drama club. She forced me to go and I'm happy she did. That's really the only fun thing I did in high school.
My hatred for math became ingrained in my blood in highschool. I had one fantastic math teacher and a couple awful ones. One didn't really teach. He'd pass athletes and tell people to seek help from a student in class who was really good at math. This advice doesn't fly for the mathematically challenged.
Lunch was a toss up for me. If I knew there would be someone there I could sit with and talk to I didn't mind lunch, but otherwise I may as well have been told I was going to math class.  So what I was really looking for at this point in time was a support system.   As a teenager I didn't want to have to use my parents for support all the time. I was feeling lost as where to look. I wrote a lot of free verse poetry just about being lost. Sure I frequented places with answers, but my eyes weren't open yet.

Jumping Ahead

Before I jump ahead to high school I will quickly sum up the rest of my eighth grade year. The rest of the school year seemed to go by without incident. This allowed me to have a good time with friends at school. Because of this break in incidents I was able to develop a friendship I still value to this day. Lindsey is a friend I could never replace and has always been there for me. Darci is a precious friend to. One that I don't get to see enough of and probably should call more often. 
I also feel the need to mention that the doctor I despise. Dr. Kooky didn't last long because he accepted another position in another state. Which was very much a relief to me. My new doctor Dr. Nagel a neurologist I would recommend to anyone looking for one made me feel my actual age. He explained things and a bonus he didn't measure my head. He explained that might be necessary for very young children but not necessary for someone of my age. When summer came I had a seizure and he raised my medication and added another one. I don't remember the names.
So in the fall when school began I do believe Lindsey was attending, but I'm not positive how long my friend Darci went to Start. Maybe a little over a year. I remember walking home with her and getting grilled by the railroad police.
It was at this point that my meds. began to have an affect on me.  There were points of the day when the room would spin and I would see two to three of everything. I became very good at walking perfectly normal when my world was lopsided. The days that were worst were when I didn't have time to eat in the morning.
Also at this point I beginning to realize I might not be able to do this alone. I had begun to wonder about my Nana and how she handled things and my friend Lindsey was an influence as well. I knew she had a faith and from what I could see it didn't seem so bad. I was starting to rethink my warped thinking of God goes out of his way to make those who love him suffer. The new church we were attending also was helping as well.
As much as I love and appreciate a traditional service. At this point in my life I really truly believe a service and church like that would have just pushed me farther out the door. So I'm very grateful for my time at the contemporary church I went to. They helped show God to me not as some dominating tyrant, but a friend who just wants to know who I am. Most of all wants to share my burdens not make them worse.