Rock bottom. That means a lot of different things for a lot of people. Where they started, what changed that made them feel like they might be on top of the world to barely struggling by. Work, family, relationships, family, health. All of those things edge on the precipice.
Sometimes it means napping during the middle of the day. Or sitting in the shower and not even being able to cry because it’s just not there anymore. Some people sit in front of a mirror and just stare at their reflection for hours.
Rock bottom can be wondering to yourself “How did I get here?” To quote the musical version of Les Miserables “I had a dream my life would be so different from the hell I’m living”. (Arguably one of the most depressing books written, prove me wrong).
Epilepsy does that very easily. If it’s uncontrolled, it’s knowing that a seizure could be anytime. If it’s controlled, it still means knowing that a seizure could be anytime. Sometimes you get turned down for employment because of the condition and then simultaneously are told that you might not be considered “disabled enough” for support, tax credits, anything. With epilepsy, being born with it, developing it as a youth, or later as an adult, is traumatizing at some point. Anyone (myself included) won’t deny it.
There is nothing worse than hearing “This is just not something you can do” and knowing that it’s an accurate statement.
The only thing good about rock bottom? Once you get there, the only way to go is up.
What are our options? I recommend athletics, as always. It is -18 Celsius this week where I live, so running is more difficult than usual. Luckily, my apartment has a mini gym that includes a treadmill. I have workout gear in my own apartment and I am still working on the Wellermen push up challenge. I have started a crash-course in roller derby and although my thighs are KILLING me, I love the social aspect of it and the challenge of something new. Also, yes, I am learning roller derby despite having epilepsy. I have to wear kneepads, elbow pads, wrist guards, a mouth guard, and a helmet. I’m safer than I am right now while writing this.
What are other options? Book clubs. Again, social. I like social things. Trivia nights or music bingo or karaoke. You’re putting yourself out there and getting a chance to meet new people. Karaoke is fantastic because most people there are supportive and accepting that if you are feeling vulnerable, to be there. It’s like support and then you’re a regular and belting out “I Love Myself Today” (I have yet to get to that song… one day! But I have done “I Hate Myself for Loving You” and “These Boots are Made for Walking”).
What are the introvert options? I’m not an introvert so please give me a bit of patience here. Reading. Similar to book clubs but without other people. Painting. Cross-stitch/quilting/etc. Baking. Cleaning? (I only add this because I absolutely love when I’ve cleaned my entire apartment and everything is perfect). Singing. Get a quality speaker and blare some badass music and sing alone. Just own it.
You’ve hit rock bottom? Okay. Cry. Nap. Sleep. Binge-watch tv.
Then remind yourself of how absolutely fabulous and strong you are. Just remember that. Throw a rope and climb your way back up. I guarantee we can all get there.
VERY IMPORTANT NOTE: I know that I emphasize that I am not a medical professional, and I am absolutely not. HOWEVER, if you feel like you are in danger to yourself and that there is no one you are comfortable to talk to, call your local emergency services. That is crucial. If you really, really, really, aren’t getting yourself to a better place, see your neurologist and/or family doctor and see if they can recommend a treatment (whether pharmaceuticals or therapy) to get you back to fabulous.