Honeymooning

I’ve been trying to name what it is I’ve been feeling since the results of Tuesday’s midterms began rolling in. Joy? Yes. Relief? Absolutely. Hope? …I think so? Whatever it is, it’s familiar, but naming it has been just out of my grasp.

A conversation I had a few years ago with political strategist, commentator, and fellow epilepsy parent, David Axelrod has been top of mind recently. A self-identified optimist, he told me that he believes in democracy (he did title his memoir “Believer” after all). That even when things get bad, every two years, as a nation, we can course correct by electing new representatives and lawmakers. Of course, that requires free and fair elections, and while I wanted to believe alongside David, I wasn’t so sure our systems were still secure.

Thankfully, it would appear that they are.

On Wednesday, I saw a flurry of social media posts accusing left-leaning influencers of fear-mongering. That they needn’t have worried, and all the talk of the administration tampering with votes or refusing to acknowledge election results was unfounded and harmful. Had I overreacted? Was I leaning into the drama of it all?

Perhaps if we didn’t have documentation showing that Trump tried to meddle in Georgia’s elections in 2020. AND if there hadn’t been a televised insurrection preventing the certification of those election results on January 6th, 2021. Then, maybe fears surrounding the integrity of these midterms would have been irrational. But alas, I believe my concerns, and those of others, can be classified as vigilance and pattern recognition.

So, it follows, that while I was ecstatic to see the administration so clearly repudiated, I remained fearful of their response. To then see the President come out on Wednesday and talk for over 20 minutes about marble floors in his ballroom – I had to pause. What in the world is going on? This was not the pattern.

I have a theory – bearing in mind that I do not work in politics and am not a mental health professional. Most people familiar with the diagnosis would agree that Trump is a narcissist. He is incapable of believing that he is wrong or that anyone worthy of his respect does not adore him. Therefore, the blue wave could not have been a referendum on his policies, but a result of people being unmotivated to vote because his name was not on the ballot. With this mindset, he can accept the results – for now, anyway.

There is also the possibility that he is getting bored with the job, has dementia, or just really enjoys building things and would rather spend his time doing that.

However, this initial relief at the acceptance of the election results has done little to settle my nervous system. I want to feel the joy, relief, and hope – it has been way too long since anything politically related has inspired these emotions. But I still feel like an animal in the woods braced for fight or flight.

Hence, my inability to properly name what I’m feeling.

Then, I remembered what month it is. November, ie. epilepsy awareness month.

And I knew what to call this feeling.

With drug resistant epilepsy, it is not uncommon for a medicine to provide seizure relief for a period of time. It could be days, weeks or even months. But a brain that has seizures will often find a way to continue seizing. We call this period of seizure freedom, while the medicine is working and before the brain figures out how to seize again: a honeymoon.

That is what I am experiencing right now – a political honeymoon.

Maybe this period of severe political unrest that has included the government sanctioned murder of civilians, illegal mass detentions and deportations, and the dismantling of multiple government agencies is over. Or maybe this is a honeymoon. It’s too early to tell.

What I do know is that no matter how certain we were that the seizures would return, we appreciated and enjoyed every day of seizure freedom we got. So, I guess, that is my advice to my fellow blue wave surfers this November. Let’s celebrate and enjoy this reprieve for as long as we get it. But stay informed, vigilant, and keep the rescue meds close. Because it’s only two more years until we get to do this all again.

And to my epilepsy community: I see you. Happy November. May your honeymoons last forever and have few side effects.

ID: Adelaide, age 21 months, sitting in a stroller outside in park and smiling while being tickled by Kelly who is visible at the edge of the frame. The sun is setting brightly in the upper lefthand corner. At the time Adelaide was at the beginning of a three month break from seizures – a honeymoon period.