Okay so it's been awhile since my last post. I shall explain my long break. First school has been a bit haywire with me researching for a psych paper. When it comes to psychology I tend to dive in. Also I stepped aside because I had to figure out a way from keeping my story from becoming boring for anyone that is following this blog. If I go chronologically in order there are a couple of problems. One my memory is fuzzy. I've been living with epilepsy for a long time now and my memory wasn't always what it is now. Two going in order will get boring because I'll end up telling scenarios that sound very similar back to back. So where does this leave my blog? Well I've decided to try and go in order as possible, but to only stick to memories that are vivid to me. Why struggle to remember something I wasn't really that present for mentally. Meds did do a number on my brain for awhile.
So I'm jumping to the end of ninth grade. All that need be said is the two friends I was close with I had a great time with. Over all though school was a struggle and I was making it my business to keep people at a distance. I'm finding this is a very hard habit to break. Most people who know me only know what I trust them with, which with most people isn't much. I'm always waiting for the dagger to come plunging down into my back. The only person I can say I truly trust is my husband and honestly I don't know how he did it.
During ninth grade my family was attending a more contemporary church that my brother and I had chosen. At this point while I wasn't furious with God anymore I still wanted to keep him out. I wanted to do things on my own. The only reason I went to church at this point was so I wouldn't hear mom and dad complain if I didn't go. At least the church we were going to had better music in my opinion. No offense to the traditional, but at this time in my life that kind of service never would have reached me. My eyes were closed and ears shut in those services, but this type of church kind of caught me off guard.
As for my summer job. It was my first job. I had decided to try getting a part time job for the summer. I hadn't had any seizures in a few months and thought it would be safe. I ended up getting a job at a movie theater. They had the popular two screens in one building and the other screens with the not so popular movies in the other building. When I first started out I was always in the popular building. Which was a good sign. This meant that the managers thought you were doing a good job.
While selling popcorn (I still can't eat movie popcorn to this day! I won't ruin it for you!) isn't anyone's dream it provided a paycheck. A paycheck that was my money to spend however. It felt good to be earning my own cash.
So things went well. My only complaint was people were a bit clicky, but I'm not the best judge. I do have major trust issues. The free movie bonus was awesome. I saw a lot of new releases that summer. Things took a turn for the worse when I had a very small seizure at work. It just had to happen when we were slammed.
For me a small seizure is some mild shaking I can't stop. I'm conscious of what is going on and am able to communicate the problem to others. Usually people understand me through the sobs. Crying usually starts mid seizure in these types and my emotions really go wacko. So I struggled to call my parents on a pay phone because apparently no one cared enough to call for me. Even though my hands were shaking so badly I had to hang up and redial about ten times.
Before I left with my parents I did my best to assure them everything was fine and that I would be able to work my next shift. So I did my usual sleep off thing. When I return for my next shift that's when things start getting weird. Instead of asking me questions about what precautions to take and stuff others have with me in the past I noticed that where ever I went an employee would follow me. Even to the bathroom. When I took breaks I ate up stairs as was routine for me and was in full view of many people so thankfully I got some time to myself on break.
Despite the weird change in behavior I continued to work hard, but I quickly noticed that employees were double checking everything I did. Like my seizure had caused me to leak I.Q. or like what I had was contagious. It wasn't long before they moved me to the other building all the time. Because this building had no upstairs I would sneak out on my break so no one would follow me. When I would leave the room to go bathroom or something a employee would shout "hey would you follow her! "
It even got to the point of my fellow co workers being afraid to be alone in the room with me. So they would take their break in their designated spot so their other co-worker wouldn't have to be alone with the leper. In the B building there was always three on shift. One working tickets and two selling popcorn. One could have handled the popcorn job, but no one wanted to be alone with me.
It finally got to the point where I just had a break down during break one day. I just couldn't stop crying. I couldn't understand why a little seizure would cause these people to treat me like I was two. Worse like I was something that needed disposed of. Of course this whole thing just deepened my trust issues and confirmed my ideas of how no one on the planet can be trusted.
I patiently waited till they were short staffed and had no choice to put me in the A building on a busy night. I'm not proud of the following moment, but I was sixteen and stupid. Plus I had been mistreated and I didn't find out till a few years later I actually could have sued over it, but I waited misery and all. After the break down I pretended everything was fine. I waited till the line at the counter was really long and then I left the two others there who were swamped and looking to me for help. I walked up to a manager told him I quit. Used the payphone to have my parents pick me up. While the method was stupid admittedly it felt good to do. In my own way I was standing up for myself and showing them what they did was wrong.
True a confrontation and explaining things would have been a better solution looking back on it now, but I was a teenager. My brain was not fully developed yet and not capable of making well thought out decisions. So I quit in one of the worst ways you possibly can. I don't recommend the storming out method. It's one of my life's regrets. I could've taken the high road and given them some notice.
I remember those days. You actally like the job when you started. But after the seizure, it tore me up to hear how they were treating you and how it affected you. I didn't know all the details then, just some of them. I didn't know exactly who was doing what to you or what decisions were made by management. But I remeber wanting to go in and talk to them to let them know what was happening was wrong. You stopped me. You didn't need mom or dad coming to your rescue. You thought it would have made things worse...and you were probably right, especially after you told me what you overheard in the managers office. People do and say stupid things in their ignorance. Their fears and misconceptions were the root of much pain for you and for those of us who love you. But even in your pain there was more strenght in you than you realize. We learn from regret too. This part of your life, tough and damaging as it was helped to make you stronger. It even helped you become more compassionate. You have an understanding that can only come from experience and time to process. You hate to see people who are in similar situations and you stand up for them. I think this is what drives you to psycology now and why you want to be a therapist. You want to be the voice from the other side, the side that is not condemning or judgemental side, that says, "I see who you really are. There is more to you than the thing or cisrcimstance you are dealing with. You have value." Much of the pain in you is still to be overcome, but you have overcome much already. God has blessed you with a wonderful husband. He is perfect for you. It is exciting to see you growing into a strong woman with a heart for others. Good things will come from this. I love you.
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