part 2

Crossing Paths

What happens when you cross a country gal with an Irish temper? You get my best friend lisa. She fought in many ways and in many battles. She wore her heart on her sleeve and her thoughts and opinions on her face. Although she was short, she scared a lot of people. This was the girl whom I was blessed enough to call my best friend. Although this is my story, she is very much a part of it. (I can tell more stories about us later) The thing about Lisa (or Tink, as I called her for her unapologetic love for Tinkerbell) was that she always encouraged me to dream and dream big. Be better, do better, work hard, and then work harder than that. It is these little things that propel me forward even today.

High School

But for now, let’s talk about high school and the changes that came. It wasn’t all as big as I lost friends. Some of it was smaller, like my classes changed. In gym class, I was not allowed to just sit on the bleachers and watch. My cooking class now had restrictions. I could no longer cook! I was allowed to help prep things like the cookie dough or the pizza dough, but not cook. I don’t know how I wasn’t allowed to cook in my cooking class, but I was still allowed to use a sewing machine. (Who thought that was right? My guess would be that if I had a seizure during sewing classes, I would only harm myself, but in cooking classes, I could burn the whole school down) Learning to drive was off the table, and school events were no longer questionable.

Even though my world had changed, my dream didn’t. I wanted to create and sew beautiful prom dresses and wedding dresses. My bedroom reflected that. Picture every bridal and prom magazine ad taped to my walls as wallpaper, with one poster of New Kids On The Block and one of Bret Michaels. CDs everywhere (if you don’t know what a CD is, look it up lol). On bad days ( days when my seizures or the kids were too much), I would sit in my room with a sketchbook and sketch dresses using “my wallpaper” for inspiration. That was how I processed everything.

Knowing that you can understand my excitement that I had in my junior year when Access -VR said they would help me get to Marist College in New York for fashion design. Looking back, I should have known better…I was in the resource room in my high school. We were also closed off from the rest of the students, so why did I think my future could be just as bright and hopeful as everyone else’s?

Fast forward to my senior year (because nothing really happened in my JR year other than more seizures), and I would mention Marist College to my teacher who would help me fill out forms (but apparently never sent them). She would say, ” You’ll hear from them eventually. I watched my two best friends get tons of letters from colleges; meanwhile, I got none. Finally, my Access VR counselor told me 2 weeks before graduation that no college accepts Individual Education Plans (I.E.Ps), and that was what I was about to graduate with.

Graduation day

A day I should have been excited for a bright new start. Was me crying and feeling worthless. Everyone was talking about their summer plans before going to college, and I stood there with no future to talk about. Although I don’t understand the way, I was thinking back then, but I thought this was somehow my fault, like a punishment to me for having epilepsy and a learning disability. I couldn’t get out of the school quick enough, not even taking a single picture with my parents. I just wanted to get as far away from the building of liars who broke my hopes and dreams.

part 3 next week