My Epilepsy Journey

I used to hide the parts of me that I thought made me weak. The seizures, the exhaustion, the confusion, the fear — they weren’t things I wore with pride. They were silent scars, invisible to most, but deeply etched into my everyday life. Epilepsy didn’t just affect my body — it challenged my identity, tested my relationships and breaking up with a girl because she told me epilepsy was to much for her to handle when i was the one in hospital, and made me question everything I thought I was meant to be.

But over time, I stopped seeing those scars as signs of brokenness. I began to understand that they were reminders — proof that I survived what was supposed to break me. That I stood back up when life knocked me flat. That I found a way forward, not in spite of my epilepsy, but with it.

Yes, I wear these scars. Every one of them tells a story.

Stories of hospital visits and lost time. Of the days I didn’t think I could keep going, when the world felt like it had shut its doors. But also stories of strength I didn’t know I had. Stories of growth. Of resilience. Of fighting like hell to build a life that made sense, even when nothing else did.

And somewhere in that fight — I found my place.

I found that my journey wasn’t just about me. It wasn’t just about learning how to cope, or finding some “normal” again. It was about using my pain to shine a light for others who still feel stuck in the dark. Because I remember what it’s like — to feel like no one understands, to feel like your future has been stolen before it even began.

But here’s what I now know: there is a future. There is a way forward.

Getting on with life isn’t about pretending epilepsy doesn’t exist. It’s about accepting it, managing it, and refusing to let it control your destiny. It’s about making peace with the past, letting go of the self-doubt, and saying: No more. No more hiding. No more shame. No more turning back.

I don’t live in those low moments anymore. I don’t carry the weight of those “why me?” days. I’ve walked through that fire, and I’m still standing — stronger, louder, more determined than ever. And I’m here for you. For anyone who’s in the middle of their fight. For anyone who feels like giving up. For anyone who thinks they’re alone in this.

You’re not.

I’m building a life with purpose now — a life where every talk I give, every person I speak to, every connection I make is part of something bigger. My mission is to reach others who are still trapped in silence and help them break through. Because the truth is, we don’t just survive epilepsy — we rise with it.

This is my place now. Helping others see that they can take their pain and shape it into something powerful. That they can move forward — even if it’s one small step at a time — and leave those dark thoughts in the past, where they belong. That they can look in the mirror and say, “Yes, I wear these scars — and I’m proud of every one of them.”

Because those scars tell the story of a fighter. And you’re one too.

Let’s walk this path together — no turning back