I looked at my then-husband and flinched. How could he be saying this to me when – in the past – he’d witnessed me tumbling face-first from a stool while watching a friend’s band performing in a pub? How could he say I was lying when he and a friend of mine had to care for me that night, and when he’d witnessed countless seizures over the years, which I often suffer when I’m sleeping?
I still remember the pain of being deemed a liar. I looked at him, tossing his long blond hair off his shoulder and looking at me as though he knew what he was talking about. Cocky, arrogant and secure in the knowledge that his looks rivalled those of Asshole Rose. “Pretty but stupid” is the kindest description my friends have given him since he and I divorced.
I believe that this was the moment that I began to loathe him and regret the marriage. How could he possibly think that I might collapse and injure myself for attention? Because – you know – I would really throw myself down the stairs or collapse in the middle of a busy road and almost get run over on purpose, right? I slip and tumble and break ribs and toes and end up with concussion because it’s fun!
Oh, and let’s not forget the recent seizure that got me hospitalised. Everybody wants to almost die and have a joyride in an ambulance and have all sorts of tests and injections that cause massive bruising and stress, don’t they?
Well, my ex husband seemed to think so.
Fortunately, his opinion is not the general opinion. Most people recognise Epilepsy as a genuine condition that the sufferer can’t help. I am one of those Epileptics who cannot be controlled by medication and I will always have to endure seizures.
Other people like me do not need, want or deserve the accusations that my ex husband threw at me.