When the Sun Turned Black

Today, it was in the mid-80s, sunny, and humid. My therapist was only a five-minute drive from my house. Not wanting to waste money on Uber, I decided to walk there. It was about a 40-minute walk.

When I was 10 minutes away from the office, I started to feel dizzy. Having had seizures in the heat a long time ago, I still get triggered when I feel myself losing control of my body.

Thankfully, I made it to the office without an episode. To understand and overcome my fear, I wrote this poem about seizures in the sun.

I remember the first day I forgot who I was,
didn’t know where I woke up,
and couldn’t recall the faces that hovered above.
For several minutes, I couldn’t see the sun.

When I came to, everything was hazy.
A friend who was there said she thought maybe
I had died while going for a run.
That was the first seizure that I remember; it wasn’t fun.

My camp counselor thought it was caused by dehydration.
After all, it was a hot and humid summer vacation.
So I took it easy, stayed in the shade, and drank water.
Instead of succumbing to fear, I tried to be stronger.

After two more seizures, it became clear that something was wrong.
I felt like I was drunkenly dancing to a distorted song —
a song on repeat that didn’t make sense to anyone.
It felt like my mind had been on the run.

On the day of my Epilepsy diagnosis, I learned the sun wasn’t my friend.
It was a demon that put my love of summer to an end.
It’s been over a decade since the sun went black.
But sometimes, I fear that the shadow of confusion will be back.

Now that it’s nighttime, the sun is not a threat; I can think clearly.
To overcome my fears, I cling to faith; it’s something I hold dearly.
The truth is, anything can happen to anyone at any time.
The power of the black sun doesn’t get to control my mind.

Thank you for reading this poem. If you enjoyed it, check out some more of my content below.