Walking the fine line between not enough information and too much

A little over a month ago, on August 24th, I posted this blog in reference to my friend, whom had just recently passed ((http://thekind-heartedsmartaleck.blogspot.com/2015/08/rip-my-friend.html):

"It's very sad for me to report that I lost a friend over the weekend. As I'm sure is common amongst a majority of people, whenever someone I know passes on, I start reflecting on my own life and life in general.

My friend, Gary, led quite a life. Having fun seemed to be easy for him throughout most of his 64 years, but then when he was diagnosed with cancer 7 years ago and given 6 months to live, he proved time and time again he was the ultimate fighter too. Throughout it all, he continued to live life on his terms, much to the dismay of his doctors, for if he was going to die, he was going to die with a smile on his face. While I probably wouldn't advise people with a similar condition to do this, my friend wasn't about following rules; he was about simultaneously defying odds and enjoying himself as much as life would allow him. Through this, he inspired me and earned my utmost respect.

I think one reason I felt a special connection with Gary, who was 30 years older than myself, is because we'd both continually overcome health obstacles throughout our lives, and no matter what the doctors told us with regard to our odds or the seemingly endless negative possibilities, we refused to back down. When I was sick throughout 2009 and 2010, bounced around like a pinball between clinics in Columbus and Cleveland, I was told the mystery condition could be permanent, could be multiple sclerosis, could result in me needing my legs amputated. I was like a vegetable most days, where I couldn't drive, couldn't work, could hardly even walk, yet I refused to give up the fight, and one big reason for that was Gary. Even though his smile, laugh, words, and demeanor might have suggested otherwise, he was a fighter through and through, and greatly inspired me to not give up either. Now, whenever life throws another health obstacle my way, I simply look to Gary to provide me a sense of hope and encouragement. I only wish I could continue to return the favor for him. Gary was a very bright and creative man, never short on the laughs and never short on the fight. After a hard-fought 7 years, the world still took this man too soon. I just hope he never has to feel any pain again and realizes how many people, myself included, he inspired along the way. You'll be greatly missed, Gary. We love you. Rest in peace, my friend."

I shared this writing with Gary's wife, who was so touched by it, she asked me to share it with the rest of her friends and family. When I joined them all at Gary's farewell gathering, I was amazed by their reactions, for most of them were ignorant on why Gary was such an inspiration to me, and with that, ignorant on my health issues from the past. This led to many questions regarding my health troubles. After answering people's questions regarding the matter, I was consistently told things such as: "Wow, I didn't know that," "Seriously, if I'm ever a jerk to you, just let me have it," "I wish I had been nicer to you in the past," and "That's really inspiring!"

I'm not going to lie, dealing with health problems since birth is a trying experience. Not only is there a seemingly constant battle going on within oneself from a physical standpoint, that's also the case from a mental and emotional one as well. This was especially the case during my teen years, as I'd experience roughly 5-10 seizures per day, would attempt to hide it from people (it just appeared as if I was spacing off), and pretend like things were just fine. I refused to admit I had epilepsy, wanted to pretend I was a normal teenage boy, and wanted to be seen as such. It became much more difficult for me to hide this fact after suffering a grand-mal seizure in front of my friends the summer before college, only to be told by my neurologist I had a brain tumor which could be the reason for the seizures. After that, while I certainly feared the tumor being malignant, I was also somewhat relieved for the secret to be let out of the bag, to be on medication again, and to feel a giant weight lifted off my shoulders in the process. I've had a number of health setbacks since then, including brain surgery, a strange 2-year-long virus, a gallstone (and subsequent gallbladder surgery), gout, etc. Yet while these physical battles are difficult, the mental and emotional battles are even more trying for me at times. It feels like there's a very fine line we must walk down when it comes to being ourselves and not sharing too much. As my health issues have played a major role in my life, it then becomes difficult to accurately depict who I am without also divulging information regarding my health. At the same time, though, when sharing such information with others, it leaves oneself vulnerable to judgment, and with that, getting hurt. Epilepsy carries with it a certain stigma, which often gets mocked in comedies. It's also not very flattering to sense that others feel sorry for you, or if you happen to fail at something, they immediately think, "Well, that's unsurprising; he does have all those health problems after all." I suppose, like most people in such a predicament, I simply want to be defined in spite of my condition and not because of it, for we don't seek pity; we seek to fight, live, and inspire.