I recently came across an article online that instructed me to apologize for being sick...again. It is a common occurrence for people with epilepsy to be asked to apologize. Then there are the apologies that everyone is simply expected to give on a daily basis, no matter what affliction they may or may not have. They are sorry for being sick, sorry for being sad, sorry for being lazy, sorry for being loud, sorry for being offensive, sorry for being too quiet, sorry for not being loud enough...There are far too many apologies to count. It is an endless sea of apologies; it never stops. It will never end. You spend so much time making up for the past that the present begins to pass you by; you slip into the void. You gasp for air, but, maybe this time, it's finally too late. You have fallen into the pit of apology. Let me ask you something. If you spend your entire life forgiving all the mistakes that everyone makes, do you ever get an apology? Do you ever get any respite? Do you ever get a chance to breathe? Are friends and family really so important that they need a get out of jail free card surgically attached to their asses? Is your relationship with, whoever, so important to you that you must suffer and sacrifice to enure it? Should you even have to endure a relationship? Shouldn't it be easier than that? I think so; I think that real love makes things simpler, not more difficult. All of this nonsense about hardship when it comes to the people we love seems a bit much for me. Sure, I am more than willing to stick it out with a friend when things get tough; I am willing to understand that everyone goes through a tough time. However, the key to that very overused phrase is "a time", singular, meaning that is should not last for a very long period of time. Yet, unfortunately, we know that the "time" never seems to come to an end. And it still hasn't. I know because today the article I came across was not demanding anything from me other than acceptance. A person with epilepsy stated that it is up to epileptics to "understand" when our relatives or friends are uncomfortable or uninformed around us. It was, of course, wrapped in all kinds of pretty language, but it was essentially a message to people with epilepsy everywhere to pretend that those who do them wrong have no debt to pay to us. I hate to spoil the party folks, but they most certainly do owe us; they owe us quite a bit. They forgot us, you know. Their reforms, their civility, their spirituality, their morality, their rationality...They all left us far, far behind. We did not make it into their daily to do list. We did not find our way into their daily prayers. The holy order did not deem us worthy. We are demons. Every religion you will find describes us in this way: a demon, a wicked, evil spirit; that is all we are to the believers, the humanists...We are nothing to them...nothing. But still they need our apologies. Isn't that something? They, those who never stop and think about us, those who do not care about us, they need, no...They demand our apologies, our appreciation, our forgiveness...We give so much to them. We give them hope. We give them some sob story, some statistic, some headline, something they can latch onto to point out and say, "see,  Haven't we given enough? Aren't the seizures that they make fun of in their comedies enough? Weren't the jokes about Pokemon enough? Aren't the stupid, stupid, moronic epilepsy jokes posted all over the internet in every two bit stand up comedian's act enough? No, they want more; they want it all. It's never enough, not for them, not for bullies. The thing about bullies is that they can grow on you. You can become used to their antics, the pain that they cause you. It becomes such a part of your life that, before you know it, that's all there is, stupid fucking jokes. Well, I'm not laughing anymore. It stopped being funny in 2007. Get some new material. Don't expect anymore apologies from me.