I fell like my entire existence has shifted ever so slightly from the reality I thought I lived in. Since “the episode” that I was told was probably a seizure I have had a handful or two of tests and referrals for other tests. Turns out, I have probably been having small seizures for quite a while… since I was a kid if not my whole life kind of while.
It seems my mother’s term “artistic personality” is slowly being transformed into “seizures” or “epileptic activity”. There is no familial history of seizures neither side… or so that is what I’ve been told when I asked. Other than my cousin, that is… but he’s kind of a special case, the kind that has spent more of his life in hospitals than out.
I’m experiencing a combination of out-of-boniness and life-passing-before-my-eyes these days. I’ll be in the present, then be reminded of something that happened years ago, something that was “artistic” or “just me being me”, and I wonder… was that another “episode”? The sudden loss of balance while standing still, the inability to walk in a straight line, my body’s sensory overload that allowed me to navigate so many situations while blinded by allergies, the times my body just quit on me and my muscles just ceased working and dropped me to the ground… the constant low grade dizziness that accompanies me while writing “in the zone” during stream of conscience pieces…
It just keeps going. That’s what my mind does, it takes a moment in time and spins out entire what-if universes baSed on how things could have gone.
The moment I keep coming back to is when I was late for school in second grade. There were stairs and stairs I was running up, all alone after the bells had rung, when all of a sudden my leg just went away… it was only for a second, but… my mind keeps going back to that moment that I didn’t give a second thought to at the time. It barely registered, actually, as if I could barely remember it at the time even, I just got up and kept going, like I did so many times after that. So many things I ignored or didn’t fully register… but I keep going back to that particular moment.
I feel like I’m slipping out of my mind just thinking about it all.
Is my creative just synapses misfiring? Are my insights and connections just the culmination of a short-circuited, malformed mass of a grey Tesla knock off?
And… do I care? While… it is unnerving to think that my mind could basically be the result of a lifetime of electrical mistakes, what is life if not an ongoing process of learning from one’s mistakes? Is any piece of art perfect or is it the completion of an idea grown with both structure and errors melded together melded together into something beyond the original conception?
My brain may very well be misfiring, and may have been my entire life. That doesn’t make me any less me. The person I might have been doesn’t matter, the original design was a springboard for who I would become with and without my individual choices. Who I am today is merely a springboard for who I am tomorrow.
And you know what? Tomorrow may be harder. Tomorrow may be better. I don’t know. I don’t have any idea. But! Even if my doctor(s) knew what was going on and we had a plan of attack to cope/treat whatever it may be, it wouldn’t matter.
Tomorrow may be harder. Tomorrow may be better. Not one knows. The allusion of control that “knowing” gives us is a frail thing to hold on to, it’s a mirage we grasp at today in hopes that we will have something solid tomorrow.
What will be will be but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to fight to make it the best I can. What will be is a bigger version of what I’m looking at in the mirror every day; a gran piece of art that is an enmeshing of what is within our control and what is without.
I will not relinquish my part of that construction. I will take my mistakes, I will take my talents, I will take my misfires, and my choices to struggle as strongly as I can towards a beautiful completion.