Editing October 17th, 2024

Today, one of the worst-case scenarios occurred.

After a stressful day at work with tasks to do even after I clocked out, I went to a local kava bar to chill out and complete my work. I am on edge after discovering, for the first time in about five years, a brand new allergy. This allergen is prominent in the room, as well. As this only causes ill-effects when consumed, it isn't a big deal; I'm just simply on alert.

For additional background context, today, I am less than a week for a business trip in which my photos will be taken. I have been making preparations for this trip for the past month, as it represents a unique business opportunity and presents as evidence of my competence.

Sitting down at the barstool, admiring one of the modified keyboards I produced earlier in the day, I notice a fullness from within my earlobe, vaguely close to where one of my earrings... used to be. This is also one of my self-piercings that I have had since 2021. It seems that my skin has grown over the backing of a tightly-secured earring, and was fully encapsulated by that skin. My immediate thought was that medical intervention was necessary to slice open and then stitch back my earlobe. I wanted to investigate, but of course, the lines for the bathroom never ended, so I had no access to a personal mirror.

I asked the bar staff if there are any first-aid supplies on-hand, which there weren't. As the bar bathroom line was an issue and there were no supplies, and since it was late at 11:00PM, I tried to see if any of the other stores had available bathrooms or first-aid. At 11:00, there was only a nearby pizza shop in walking distance, so I tried my hand for help there, only to be left with failure. The effects of anxiety pooled and prevented me from waiting idly in line, when I could be doing ''something'' to improve my scenario. I used a mirror in the front of the bar to fiddle with my ear until I got a little bit of the backing to poke through. 10 minutes later, the bathroom became available, and I promptly hogged it up for the next 20 minutes while coming to terms with the fact that the piercing was undeniably, for lack of a better term....fucked.

At this point, still going back and forth to the barstools and the bathroom, certainly causing onlookers to question my actions and motives for doing so, I try different tools to lightly scrape open my ear to avoid medical fees. I even considered using a soldering iron to suture bleeding tissue after conceptually ripping it open with a screwdriver, but I decided against both actions. I slowly scrape away at my ear skin on both the front and back, allowing myself to reveal the backing that has been causing this injury. Still lodged within my ear, but at least I can see it.

Seeing my earlobe skin grown over the shape of the butterfly back, becoming misshapen and growing '''''through''''' the loops of the backing, my desperation and utter panic jolted to a an all-time high that I don't recall ever experiencing to this degree. It felt like a point of no return. It sickened me. It formulated scenarios where this injury would be visible in the photos that'll be taken in the next week. After understanding that I have an earring biologically installed in my body, I seemingly began to panic, ripping out the actual earring, leaving the backing installed in my ear. For some reason, I interpreted this as a much worse scenario than before, and my panic grew even deeper.

With the stress absorbing me, I incidentally notice blood pouring from my mouth from the incoming wisdom teeth wrecking havoc on my existing teeth. At the same time, I notice for the first time brand new cavities on my top molars. My body feeling like it's disintegrating within the last minutes, paired with the typical workday stress, and the stress of the upcoming business trip, and the stress of mounting responsibilities outside of work (logo design for a client that I am 2 days late on, a bug in one of my software releases being brought to my attention, my procrastination of a few articles on Halcove, a recent car accident that I was not at fault for, among others). I felt physically sick; all of this sent me into a psychological frenzy.  All of my emotions became exaggerated and no longer felt like my own. For a hour or so, my thoughts, emotions, and opinions were surreal; I was effectively having a psychotic breakdown. My muscles began to jolt and I felt the early effects of a seizure coming along, and this is another one of those points of no return.

The seizure would play out either way. The question would be: where?

If I chose to privately act it out in the bathroom, there would be concerning noises and I would be hogging it up for an indeterminate amount of time. That didn't seem like the correct option.

I could act it out inside of the building, making a very obvious scene. Also not a great choice.

So I went outside, as far as I could before being able to lay down, not too far from the bar doors. I was still very visible to the plaza exterior. This seizure was one of the most intense ones I have had in public. I can tell that some people thought I overdosed on drugs, as you can imagine what a person spazzing out in front of a bar would look like. This fit lasted for approximately twenty minutes, and took a very significant amount of energy out of me. While a handful of people walked past me, only a couple ended up asking if I was okay. I informed them about this being a regular occurrence, despite this being the first time they've seen it in about two years of me knowing them.

I re-enter the bar to attempt to recover. To my knowledge, I actually pass out here - as my next memory involves waking up with the feeling that I am going to pass out.

It wasn't a mere feeling. The experience of consciousness being drained away from me is nothing I have ever experienced in my life, and I currently still have no words to describe it. I was very aware that my impending unconsciousness was a strong possibility, and that my body does not feel as if it can biologically sustain itself. I promptly requested for the bartender to finally call an ambulance. It did trigger my worst nightmare of being the showstopper in the packed bar, with EMTs attending to me with red flashing lights permeating the entire building. I declined a hospital stay as I am realising that my symptoms are subsiding; that the seizure and fading of consciousness could both be symptoms of a panic attack. It is known to myself that most of my seizures are indeed caused by negative emotional states, and this has been known and reinforced by numerous seizure events with accompanying levels of high stress.

In fact, my very first grand mal seizure occurred the same night I got off of the plane of my first Samsung trip, almost exactly a year ago. By this Wednesday, I will be taking my second trip. I very much anticipate one happening while I'm in Texas, and I am scared that a similar event will happen within Samsung's legacy headquarters. I do not want to be a topic of discussion in the sense. It is causing me to experience an insane amount of dread -- my mental exhaustion is nearing its limits.

EMTs and bargoers both asked me if I have been diagnosed with epilepsy. But the relevant tests show no epileptic activity.

Three years in. Still, no one can figure out what's wrong with me. Vital signs are always good. Nutrition is adequate.

I am a normal weight. I get a lot of physical activity.

I can't be scared to be in public.

I can't be afraid to go outside.

I don't know what to do.