It’s weird how sounds bounce back, a replay of a moment, repeated word for word. Memories do that, triggered by the sight of something familiar, a scent, or a person, bringing forth a rush of emotion.
In a way, seizures have an echo, not of the physical type, but purely emotional. Visiting the site of a previous event can trigger a sense of deja vu. A recall of what happened before, and after, that wasn’t erased leaving a small imprint like a post-it note stuck inside a file.
I experienced an echo today, at the Circle K. The store where back on March 29th, I landed in the hospital. We’d gone for a walk in the wind that day. The force behind the clouds reminiscent of our many walks along the promenade on a blustery fall day in White Rock. The air was bitterly cold, stinging our cheeks and freezing our foreheads. We’d stopped at the Circle K for drinks. As we left, the seizure hit. I slid to the floor and my left arm began to twitch, only partially aware of where I was, and who was there. With most of my seizures, the sequence of events are fragmented, blurred, and filled with holes. But the fear and anxiety remains lurking below the surface, a constant reminder, the echo.
We’ve been back a few times since then, the anxiety mounting as we approached the entrance, the sense of fear vibrating throughout.
Jumbled emotions, scramble memories, and the anxiety of a repeat occurrence, echoed within. A sensation that haunts me, follows me, reminds me of the depressive state I’ve found myself in.
Once my seizures are under control, the ‘voice’ that shouts across the chasm of space and time will have silenced, eliminating the sounds and emotions and the constant reminders thrown in my face, over and over again.