Epilepsy is too often boxed into a clinical definition: a neurological condition marked by recurring seizures. For anyone who has ever lived with it, the condition reaches so much further than the diagnosis sheet: routines, decisions, ambitions, relationships, even the day-to-day levels of confidence.
On this National Epilepsy Day, take time to understand what every single day is like for men and women trying to make their way through a condition most around them barely understand.
Living With Unpredictability
It's just that epilepsy seldom provides an advance warning of its arrival. The air is thick with a sense of unpredictability in seizures, making the daily activities some sort of calculation in their own right: the drive to work, a shower, a solitary walk, or cooking takes on a slightly different hue when there is always a slim possibility that an episode might occur.
Approaches to dealing with this unpredictability are similar yet nuanced for men and women. Many women bear an added burden that caregiving roles, household responsibilities, and professional expectations all bring on at one time. Despite the fact that many of them manage their condition quite well, they often feel compelled to downplay their symptoms so as not to be seen as less reliable at home or in the workplace.
Most of the pressure on men assumes another form, as it supposes that men are supposed to seem unruffled and strong, at least in most workplaces where showing your vulnerabilities is taken as a weakness. Trying to keep up with expectations and adjustment in schedules for medicines, stress, or sleep keeps them stretched emotionally. While epilepsy itself does not make any differentiation in gender, the weight sits differently according to the roles set by society.
The Undercurrent of Emotions Nobody Sees
It carries along with it a silent emotional baggage seldom spoken of, such as fear of falling into a seizure in public or discomfort in the staring crowd, or even the feelings of guilt for disrupting situations. It's these kinds of things that create a sort of mental fatigue that goes largely unnoticed. Most comments identify the fear of being labeled unstable or over-dramatic as the major reason for not being open about the problem.
Others will not declare their diagnosis at a new job or relationship because of certain ideas concerning independence and safety. Meanwhile, men face social attitudes toward masculinity: most of them do not express anxiety, problems with memory, or other side effects of medication, because this would alter attitudes toward their capabilities among colleagues and family. In both cases, the emotional landscape is filled with minor negotiations: Should I tell my manager? Can I go out alone tonight? Will this medication make me too drowsy to work? Is it safe to travel? That secret mental checklist is part of daily life.
More Misunderstanding Than Support
What that means in real life is that for many people, the stigma of having epilepsy can be worse than the symptoms themselves. People still cling to some pretty outdated fears: panic during a seizure, assuming the person is unstable, or believing epilepsy limits intelligence or potential. None of this is true, but the myths live on.
This is compounded by the very poor knowledge base regarding elementary first aid. For example, many people do not know that holding a person down during a seizure is dangerous and how important it is to let the episode pass on its own while keeping the person safe.
Empathy and Equal Opportunity: An Appeal
"Epilepsy affects both men and women in complex ways, but the need for understanding is universal. They are balancing work and family expectations and personal challenges with carrying a condition still shrouded by misconceptions. What they need is empathy and awareness and equal opportunity-not assumptions about their capabilities," says Jeevan Kasara, Director & CEO of Steris Healthcare.
Toward a Society That Really Gets It
So, where does that leave us? For a start, there are the minor adjustments to make: flexible hours after a seizure, understanding during medication changes, or simply knowing what to do during an episode. Instead of whispering about the condition, supportive families can be made. Well-informed friends can treat the person normally and not with caution.
Men and women with epilepsy are students, professionals, partners, parents, and leaders. It is not about being defined by their condition but being sure that they don't have to hide it just to get a fair deal. But the most meaningful step would be the simplest: on National Epilepsy Day, hesitation gives way to awareness, assumptions to openness, and silence to support. Only then will men and women living with epilepsy be seen, not just as patients but also as people leading full and determined lives.