After every seizure, I am left with only cryptic and fragmented memories. I always
remember the before and the after. Only my classmates, teachers, friends, and family ever
remembered the in-between.
For years, those “in-between” moments haunted me. I would wake up, sometimes among
strangers, sometimes surrounded by the concerned faces of loved ones, and a wave of guilt
would wash over me. The sense of powerlessness, the inability to control what had happened,
and the awareness that others had to step in during those lost moments would make me feel like a burden.
It was as if my epilepsy wasn’t just something I had to endure, but something I was
forcing everyone else to endure with me. My friends, family, teachers—they have all been
involuntarily drafted into a role they didn’t sign up for, all because of something I couldn’t even
remember happening. I would apologize profusely, shrinking inside myself, believing that my
seizures were more than just a disruption—they were a weight I was placing on the shoulders of
everyone around me.
But over time, I began to realize something crucial: this feeling of being a burden was a
story I was telling myself, and it wasn’t the truth. My self-talk was shaped by the immediate
aftermath of my seizures, a time when I felt most vulnerable and self-conscious. In those
moments, I interpreted the concern and care of others as an obligation I had unfairly imposed on them. But as I talked more openly with my loved ones, I discovered a different narrative.
Most people, if anything, feel empathy—not resentment—when they see someone they
care about going through a difficult experience. They want to help, to support, to be there in any
way they can. My family and friends weren’t keeping a tally of all the times they had to step in
during one of my “in-betweens”; they were just grateful they could be there for me. They cared
about me, not just in spite of my epilepsy, but with full acceptance of it as part of who I am.
If someone does treat you as if you are a burden because of your epilepsy—or any
condition you might be living with—that reflects poorly on them, not on you. People who
genuinely care about you will never see you as a burden. They see you as a whole person, with
strengths, quirks, and yes, challenges, but none of that diminishes your worth. The real burden is trying to carry the weight of that guilt on your own, instead of letting it go and trusting that those who matter will stand by your side.
Positive self-talk became a lifeline for me in this realization. Instead of focusing on the guilt I
felt, I began reminding myself that I deserved support and care just as much as anyone else. I
started to challenge the narrative that my epilepsy made me a burden, replacing it with a
narrative of strength and acceptance. I reminded myself that my condition didn’t define my value or my relationships.
To anyone out there who has felt like a burden because of their epilepsy, I want you to know this:
you are not a burden. You are worthy of care, empathy, and love, and those who truly care for
you will never see you as anything less. Let go of the guilt, embrace the support around you, and
remember that you are so much more than your “in-betweens.”
About Maya:
Maya Moorthy, a proud San Francisco native, is a rising senior at Choate Rosemary Hall. As part of Choate’s John F. Kennedy Program in Government and Public Service, she immerses herself in political electives, participates in discourse and debate, and hones her critical thinking skills through both academic and experiential learning.
Living with epilepsy since third grade, Maya has developed a strong passion for epilepsy advocacy.
She recently connected with the Young Adults with Epilepsy Foundation. After attending the weekly support group meeting and now contributing to the foundation’s blog, she continued to help plan our big "Epilepsy 3 Days, 3 Ways" event in Monterey in October.
Maya’s commitment to advocacy, whether in public service or epilepsy awareness, drives her to make a meaningful impact in every community she engages with.
Comments