Two Big Life Events Creating Surreal Paradox of Emotion

About 20 months ago, I woke up on a Sunday morning (May 31st, 2008) and knew something was wrong. I had no idea what it was and I had hoped that perhaps it was just a case of over-sleeping and I'd feel better the following day. Unfortunately, this wasn't the case.

Over the next few days, my extreme fatigue was met with other symptoms, such as tingling in my limbs, numbness around my face and in my mouth and an extreme foggy sensation in my head. When the condition hit its peak, it was difficult for me to walk, to get out of bed and impossible for me to drive or do much of anything outside of the house.

The next year and a half, I was a pinball to doctors all across the Columbus and Cleveland areas. These included: Neurologists, neurosurgeons, neuromuscular specialists, ear-nose-throat doctors, regular physicians, specialists with AVM (arteriovenous malformation), seizure specialists, etc. I underwent a multitude of blood tests, a glucose-tolerance test, had MRI's of my head and also my back/neck, an EEG, a couple Q-Sart's, a couple EMG's, a sleep study and a skin biopsy from what I remember. My tegretol dosage was altered a couple times, first increased and then decreased. The doctors placed me on neurontin and when that failed to produce any results, they had me try klonopin, which I had to stop taking after a couple days due to some awful side effects. The doctors often times saw subtle signs that something was wrong, yet were never able to confidently diagnose me with anything. These theories ranged from: AVM, guillain-barre syndrome, small-fiber neuropathy, small-fiber sensory neuropathy, depression and a side effect from my medication.

Through the past 20 months, I've been told anything from: You show signs of multiple sclerosis, could have diabetes, could have this condition and these symptoms for the remainder of your days, could lose your legs if the AVM is active and as it has a tendency to do when active, progressively get worse, etc.

About two months into the health ordeal, I began feeling quite depressed. One or two doctors started stating that depression can be quite a powerful phenomenon and may be the reason for my symptoms. It was the whole chicken and the egg argument. I had to keep explaining to them, "Depression did not cause these symptoms. I became depressed after I felt the symptoms." To me, it seemed rather common sense, but they still had their doubts. Also, with the before-mentioned dire possibilities coming to light, I began to feel even more depressed, asking such questions as: "Will these symptoms ever pass?" "Will they ever find out what is wrong?" "Will I be ever be able to work full-time?" "Will I ever be able to live independently?" "Will I ever be able to date and find love?" "Will I be able to go out much, socialize and make friends?" "Will I ever find happiness?" I had put my entire life on hold. The little things in life, that which I took for granted and failed to appreciate over the years, had been stripped from my possession, not knowing if I'd ever feel the joy of possessing them again.

A couple months ago, I went in to see a seizure specialist at the Cleveland Clinic. She suggested that since I was still suffering from auras, sometimes of the mass variety, there would be no harm in me switching my medication. She said that being on tegretol for so long (11 years) could result in it having a sedative effect, so she switched me to another seizure medication, lamictal, which she said could potentially help with regard to the tingling sensation as well. So, I was slowly weened off the tegretol over the course of about a month and my dosage of lamictal was slowly increased over the course of between one month and two months.

After I was completely weened off the tegretol and my lamictal dosage was increased some, I woke up one morning and realized the symptoms had decreased in intensity. It's now been about four weeks since I felt this change and things have been progressively improving in that time-frame. I've been trying not to get overly excited, as I have two appointments at the start of February, one with a sleep specialist and another with a neurologist, but for the first time in close to two years, I actually feel a sense of optimism and it's quite an amazing feeling. I really can't begin to describe it.

My entire outlook on life has changed due to what has transpired over the course of these past 20 months. For a while, I felt as if the symptoms would never vanish as I wished they would, that I may need spinal surgery and a second go-round of brain surgery, that I may one day lose my legs and that the rest of my life, I'd be in a constant struggle to make end's meet financially and to obtain happiness. I now have a new-found life and energy. I look forward to waking up in the morning. I can't help but wear a goofy smile throughout the day. To have had so much that one takes for granted ripped from them for a decent period of time and to then possess them again, it makes me that much more appreciative of the little things in life.

On the opposite end of this hope is fear. Almost seven and a half years ago, I went through a very difficult relationship. All people say that, right? This was different. All people say that too, right? Well, yes, but that's true in this case. I even have a 200+ page manuscript about the events to prove it. It started in the summer of 2003. On February 20th of 2003, I had a seizure while in my Spanish class. It was the first seizure I had experienced since I was placed on tegretol in August of 1999. Due to this unexpected turn of events, I panicked and this added stress triggered more seizures that afternoon. After I went home, I immediately called my neurologist to schedule an appointment. He told me that I had one of two options: To be placed on an additional seizure medication or to undergo brain surgery to remove the tumor which was likely triggering the seizures. Without much hesitation, I said I wanted to undergo brain surgery. While it was most definitely the more risky of the two options, I saw an additional drug just being a temporary solution, not a long-term one. I had perhaps become desensitized to the tegretol, having been on it for three and a half years at that time. I just saw it as a constant cycle. I'd get placed on a second medication and once I became desensitized to that, I'd get placed on a third medication and so forth. To go along with all the potential side effects of medications and the potential damage it can do to one's body in the long run, I was adamant about not going that route. Brain surgery, in my mind (no pun intended), was the only possible long-term solution.

Due to this decision I had made, I spent the majority of the summer in the hospital, getting tests done, undergoing an extended EEG just to make sure the seizures did in fact derive from the tumor and setting everything up for the surgery. This made for very little time to go out, socialize, date or anything of the sort. One day, I received an instant message online from someone I had never spoken to before. She had obviously read my profile, because she brought up how she enjoyed writing as well, poems in particular. She was 21, in college and judging by her picture, appeared to be rather cute. So, in between all my hospital visits that summer, I began talking to her more and wound up meeting her. For 3-4 months, we talked and saw each other rather regularly. After my surgery, my mother gave her a call to let her know the procedure went as hoped. Since I couldn't drive for a time after the surgery, my mother was kind enough to drive me to this individual's house and the three of us chatted for a while. It was nice. In the summer where I had very little time to go out, make friends or date, it helped take my mind off my health ordeals to have a person to talk with fairly regularly, with something to look forward to after my surgery - a relationship.

About a month later, I found out this individual had lied to me (and my mother) about everything and I mean everything. She then set me up and got me into trouble. This turned my life upside down. Just a month removed from undergoing brain surgery and having a hope instilled in me that I may one day be without seizures to being released from that very high and dropped like a skydiver without a parachute from 20,000 feet. I won't go into vivid details about what happened, but that day in September of 2003 and for the following 6 months, life was a living hell for me. I no longer knew what my future held. I no longer knew if I'd be able to utilize the college degree I was to earn before long. I no longer knew much of anything.

Fortunately for me, things slowly began to turn around in my favor through those 6 months and what could have been an awful turn of events for me wound up being a slap on the wrist. However, the after-effects of this event would linger for many years to come.

For a long period of time, I was uncomfortable around the opposite sex. Even if they were at the opposite end of the room, I felt discomfort. I started keeping to myself more and just sticking to my studies. I didn't even think about the possibility of dating. I placed an invisible shield around myself, as to not let anyone prod their way in to penetrate and potentially damage my core as this lady had done. I numbed myself, so that while I couldn't feel love, I couldn't feel pain. I was emotionless. All the feelings I had taken for granted for many years, I had no more. Many family members of mine believed I'd never date again. I, myself, believed this also and that I'd never garner a romantic interest or any kind of feeling for the opposite sex again.

This level of discomfort and numbness was constant through 2005 and part of 2006, but things slowly began to turn around in the second half of the year. While I was still very much uncomfortable and frightened by the idea of dating, I began finding women attractive again and not feeling as uncomfortable when in their presence. This resulted in a very short, two-week dating stint. Right away, I noticed some red flags, but in hindsight, I'm sure the reason I broke things off was a combination of the red flags and my continued fear and discomfort with dating. My trust for others, especially women, had been shattered. My willingness to be open and make myself vulnerable to others, especially women, all but vanished. But, in 2008, something happened to alter that course.

From 2006-2008, some friends of mine and I frequented a local lounge. It was a neat little atmosphere, the food was good, it was relatively close to each of us, we knew the people whom owned the place and got great prices because of that. But, there was someone whom worked behind the bar that I took a liking to and didn't realize it for some time. She and I had known of one another for quite some time, as we went to the same high school, but she was a couple grades below me, so we never really associated with one another in those days. With each and every visit to the lounge, however, I talked with and got to know her better and to go along with her beautiful exterior, she seemed extremely laid back and like a lot of fun. At that time, however, I was still quite reluctant on relinquishing the shield I had placed around me for some time. Due to this, I wasn't able to establish any sort of cognizance regarding my feelings toward a person. I had all but shut down that component of my system. In my mind, this woman was just a friend, a fun person to hang around, someone that was easy to talk to, etc. That's all I saw her as for close to two years there. In February of 2008, that changed.

It was known for a little while that I was going to be moving out-of-state, from Omaha, Nebraska to Columbus, Ohio, but that reality didn't strike me until about 2-4 weeks before the move. I had lived in Omaha for 26 of my 27 years at that point. It was my home, where I grew up, where all my friends lived, where all my memories resided; it was the only place I knew.

Over my final 2-4 weeks in Omaha, I began going around and saying goodbye to friends. A bunch of them even threw me a going-away party at the before-mentioned lounge. While I was going around town, seeing friends, giving/receiving hugs and saying my goodbyes, I realized there was one person I had the most trouble saying goodbye to and that was the bartender, my friend, at the lounge. It was so difficult, I actually wound up saying goodbye to her on three separate occasions, at the going-away party and twice more after that. I didn't understand what was going on and was utterly confused by it. I had been without any sense of emotion for four and a half years. I hadn't a serious interest of dating in that time. I hardly even looked at women in that very time-frame. But, here I was, going to sleep at night and not being able to get her out of my head. Like with my health ordeal, I didn't realize what I had until it was gone. As I began to realize I'd be moving 500+ miles away, it soon dawned on me that I wouldn't be seeing her anymore and this reality hit me like Mike Tyson on a stuffed animal.

After the move, I still couldn't stop thinking about her. When I'd talk to friends of mine on the phone, I'd find a way to bring her up and see how she was doing. When I talked to my mother, I brought up the fact that if I hadn't moved, I would have asked her out. I wanted to come forward about my feelings at that time, but bit my tongue, because I didn't think it'd be fair or right of me to do that, having just moved out-of-state. When I visited Omaha a couple times in the following six months, I made sure to see her. I was again tempted to open up to her, but as I was surrounded by friends and family whom wanted to see me while in town, I didn't feel it was proper to do that. I wanted it to be a private matter. The next time I came to town, I invited her to hang out with my brother and I at his place. She seemed to be pretty confident that it'd happen and I thought it'd be the perfect opportunity for me, once my brother left us alone, to finally let her know how I felt. Unfortunately, she was unable to make it that evening. Not long afterward is when my health problems started and I had to put my entire life on hold. I still had feelings for this woman, but once again, I felt it wasn't the right time. I had contemplated moving back to Omaha, but lost sight of that possibility at the condition's inception. Because of this, I didn't know when or even if I'd be moving back home and due to the uncertainty of my health and also of my moving back, I felt it'd be pretty pointless to open up to her.

However, like I mentioned earlier, about a month ago, I began feeling a change with regard to my health. The intensity of the symptoms seemed to wane somewhat and for the first time in what seemed like ten years, I had reason to smile. Immediately after I felt these positive changes, I thought of her. I was finally recovering, could once again see the light at the end of the tunnel (that light being Omaha) and after three years of biting my tongue, after seven and a half years of not feeling such emotions, of being able to come to terms with it myself, of being able to express it to another, after the move out-of-state and the rough 20-month journey I had with my health, through all of that, I still had feelings for her and those very feelings, if anything, escalated.

That brings me to today. Over this past month, she and I have been communicating much more regularly. There has been some flirtation, some complimenting, lots of laughter and a large quantity of smiles shared between the two of us and I've decided to finally come forward about what I've felt for three years this upcoming Sunday. With each and every passing day, however, I become more frightened.

It's something I never thought I'd experience again. I almost forced myself not to feel anything again. To actually feel something is remarkable, but with the potential of love comes the potential of pain. Seven and a half years ago, pain was inflicted upon me like never before, by a woman I had trusted with all my heart, only to tear my heart out and with seeming glee. To actually feel something for a woman again, I'm very excited, yet very scared. I sincerely hope that my first experience with such emotions since that nightmare in 2003 will not end on a sour note Sunday. Due to this fear, I keep debating with myself and going back and forth on the matter, whether I should or shouldn't open up in 4 days. In the end, I imagine I'll be very hesitant this upcoming Sunday, but I've promised myself I have to go through with this. Even at the risk of her shooting me down and me regressing a bit with regard to dating, due to the further pain inflicted upon me with the rejection, I'll at least be able to not regret my inaction and I'll at least be able to forgo the hypothetical questions. As much as I don't want to experience pain again, I finally want to have the opportunity, for the first time in seven and a half years, to experience love.