It was much more embarrassing to me when I didnāt know what was happening to me. Iām lucky (or maybe cursed) to have primarily myoclonic seizures, so I got the nickname Twitchy from my parents and my mom thought I was making up my seizures either as an excuse to get out of things or I was just being a spaz. I developed epilepsy in high school and Iād have random limb jerking that tosses things across the room and whatnot, freaking everyone out around me (in my attempt to seem ānormalā Iād just shrug it off or give finger guns, which is now my auto response to anyone seeing me seize which is super embarrassing because I donāt realize Iāve pulled ye olā fingies out until theyāre pointing). My first full body seizure wasnāt recognized as a seizure so I was just āthe person who woke people up with an ambulance ride at 8amā in my dorms freshman year. Looking back I had massive auras for the twenty or so minutes leading up to it and I really shouldāve just sat down but whoops. Second (known) gran mal is when I finally learned I had been suffering seizures for years. My doctor isā¦not great. Didnāt do anything for me other than write me a prescription and send me to a sleep clinic (which he only did because I suffer extreme tiredness all the time, been five years and he just doesnāt seem to care about figuring it out anymore). He called it random young adult female seizures to me out loud, but it wasnāt until I saw him reading a note to himself about me that read āepilepsyā that I finally got confirmation that Iām an epileptic. Could grow out of it, might not, point is my doctor isnāt very helpful. Nowadays my mom is in denial that Iām an epileptic and still seems to think I can control when my seizures happen (although at least she accepts that they are something real and not gaslighting them away). People still tiptoe around me and my partner gets noticeably anxious and doe-eyed when Iām having a bad spell, but at least I can say āitās just a seizure, Iām good.ā Iām not ashamed of the seizures themselves anymore, but I am ashamed of the things that I sometimes do during them. Accidentally jerked my hand repeatedly on some random guyās stomach at a con (funny in one way, horrifying to have lived it), dropped half a bucket of popcorn on a stranger in an IMAX (my anxiety and my subconscious morbid sense of humor only let me say āa giftā to him before I fled the scene), and since theyāre mostly in my arms I look like Iām DJing a turn table sometimes so Iāll do a real bad record scratch impression afterward to lighten the terror. Iām thankful that my friends and partner have always been there to help if I need them and quick to help me clean up.