We’re The Same: We’re Not The Same

I didn’t know that spinning your story goes two ways. I didn’t know myself.

Remember Doc Martens? I say remember, like they’re a thing of the past because no one I know wears them. But, when I was a teenager they were all the rage. So, I started to feel left out because I didn’t have some. I didn’t know how to be me.

And, I wasn’t the same as everyone else. None of us were the same. But, we all wanted to be. We all wanted to be like our peers. Everyone wanted to fit in. 

If you took a poll there would probably be a great many of us who would never admit we cared. We were individuals first who could handle pressure. All of us were creative. Of course, we were geniuses. But, we wanted to be liked and that meant we wanted to fit. It was obvious, none of us wanted to say it out loud. 

And, I was frustrated. I walked down the halls of my school … invisible. And, I was for the most part.

Except, I wasn’t. 

Everyone pretty much saw me when I fell down and demanded they pay attention to me.  A seizure is a hard thing to ignore.  That was when I didn’t know I was part of the fray. When I didn’t know I demanded attention, … that was when I got it. 

How have seizures caused you to spin your story?

It felt like no one cared and then everyone cared, except … I didn’t experience them caring. And, when I was conscious enough to hear them caring after it felt like they hadn’t cared for so long it didn’t really matter anymore. Plus, it’s tiring, all the questions about how you are today. Because, well … I just wanted to be like everyone else, but I was being reminded constantly that I was seen for what I had, not for who I was. 

So, I bought myself a pair of Doc Martens and some flared out jeans. And, I started going to school in a new outfit that was LITERALLY – heavy.  Not only did I not really like it, but it was hard to pick up my legs. Plus, I worked for a summer to make all the money to pay for those items. There was added stress just walking to school. 

I believed I would be seen in that outfit, not thinking once I had a chronic condition. How could I transform this narrative?

Nothing new happened at school that day. The halls smelled the same.  I smiled at all the people. I tried to engage in conversations and the same people still could not see me. It was like I wasn’t there. And, instantly it hit me.  No one cares about me.  If they can’t see me, why am I trying so hard? What makes today any different? What makes these clothes magical? 

I had chosen to focus on what wasn’t happening for me. There was plenty going right in my life. It was true that I wasn’t just like everyone else.  It was also true that the people around me weren’t just like me. 

But, they had their own stories. We all smiled nice when we got to school, but sometimes I saw them cry.  Good grades were expected and fought for.  Vacations were the for the rich. Yes, we were the same, but not the same. 

Would I be like them or be me? I could wear what was comfortable or what some girl said was in (that would change the next day).  I was still hiding, but I was learning. 

You can spin your story for benefit or sabotage. You’re still the one spinning.

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