I didn't intend to spend my Friday night thinking about some of the most terrifying moments of my life. But that's what happened when I turned on my TV, hit play on an episode of Netflix's Ginny & Georgiaand heard a 'joke' about seizures.

In the third episode of the new show, Ginny's friend Max Baker (played by Sara Waisglass) tells her crush after an awkward moment, "Seriously, don't worry about this. I'm probably just drunk, or on acid, or having a seizure or something. Seriously, this is no big deal."

I was immediately incensed by this line. Just a few moments prior, I'd been in a state of relaxed bliss, glass of wine in hand, and cosy under a blanket. But now my blood was boiling, and my mind turned to the feelings of terror I experience after having seizures. Because, as anyone who's ever had a seizure will tell you: they're no laughing matter.

I have epilepsy and I've been living with the condition since I was 16 years old. Since that diagnosis so many years ago, it's deeply frustrating and upsetting that we're still getting 'jokes' about seizures onscreen. Ableist jokes on TV and movies are absolutely not without consequences, and they're not harmless fun — they feed into a culture of dehumanisation that portrays people with disabilities and neurodivergent people as less than human and less deserving of respect.

What's baffling to me about these so-called 'jokes' is just how unfunny seizures actually are. The reality of having seizures is painful and traumatic. When I wake up after one, my tongue is cut, bleeding, and bruised after my teeth have clamped down on it. For a week afterwards, it feels as if every muscle in my body is aching and heavy as if I've run a marathon. In the immediate aftermath, I am panicked and confused with no short term memory and no recollection of the events that preceded my loss of consciousness.

There is a humiliation that comes with losing consciousness in public places and having hordes of staring strangers crowd around you, uttering your name as if you should recognise the face of the person saying it. At university I lost consciousness at the most inopportune moments — I once fell down steps in the middle of my halls of residence dining hall and had a seizure when I reached the bottom. I passed out just as I was about to have sex with someone and ended up naked on his bathroom floor with paramedics crowding around me. I broke my nose in a foreign country having a seizure in a hotel bathroom. I woke up in a pool of blood, with no idea where it was coming from or what had happened to me. So, when I hear someone making light of this neurological event, I struggle to see what can be so hilarious about being in pain, feeling terrified and afraid that you're about to die? If that's your idea of a joke, god help you.

Ginny & Georgiahas been criticised for other reasons aside from this ableist 'joke'. One scene featuring Ginny and Hunter arguing about their racial identities was criticised for perpetuating racial stereotypes. Most recently, Taylor Swift and her fans called out the show for making a "lazy, deeply sexist joke" about the music superstar. "Hey Ginny & Georgia, 2010 called and it wants its lazy, deeply sexist joke back. How about we stop degrading hard working women by defining this horse shit as FuNnY," Swift tweetedwith a screenshot of the offending line.

Tweet may have been deleted

I'm not saying that teenage characters on TV shows and movies shouldn't be allowed to make silly, ill-informed jokes. There are plenty of examples in this show and in others where an ignorant comment becomes a teachable moment for the character — and the viewers — when another character corrects them. Yes, we can caveat that Max is a character who appears to say the first thing in her head without thinking it through fully, but equating a seizure to being drunk or on acid is just downright offensive, not to mention inaccurate. I really believe that TV writers have a responsibility to weigh up the broader implications of comments like this — does this line feed into harmful stereotypes about a neurological condition that's been mocked and maligned for centuries? Does the comment serve the narrative in a meaningful way, perhaps through presenting an opportunity to educate a character and the audience at home?

Mashable has reached out to Netflix for comment, and will update this piece if we hear back.

TV and movie portrayals of people with disabilities and neurodivergent people still have a long way to go when it comes to tackling harmful stereotypes and ableist ideas. It would be great to see TV writers consider the ways on-screen portrayals of people with disabilities can have wider societal impacts. It'd also be great to see more TV shows and movies that show the positive aspects of people with disabilities' lives — whether that means taking care to show these characters in romantic and sexual relationships, which could fight the desexualisation of people with disabilities — or just not portraying people with epilepsy as comic devices in a sentence. (While I'm here, the word "epileptic" is fine to use in front of the word "seizure," but inappropriate when referring to people with epilepsy. The correct term is "person with epilepsy.") It's worth noting that seizures don't just affect people with epilepsy, they also impact people with diabetes, people with autoimmune disorders, in addition to people with brain infections or head injuries.

These jokes fuel the stigmatisation of epilepsy that still persists today. Chantal Spittles, of charity Epilepsy Action, commented on the Ginny & Georgiaepisode in a statement emailed to Mashable. "We were shocked to hear the insensitive language referring to seizures in an episode of Ginny & Georgia," said Spittles. "For people with epilepsy, having the condition isn’t a lifestyle choice. They can often have to deal with both the physical and emotional challenge of having seizures, as well as battle negative public attitudes about their condition. By making light of seizures, this show is feeding into damaging stigma which people with epilepsy experience on a daily basis." Spittles added that many people with epilepsy are scared to talk about it with employers, colleagues, family, and even friends due to fears of being shamed or discriminated against. "Epilepsy Action works hard to challenge the prejudice and misconceptions surrounding epilepsy and help more people understand it. Epilepsy isn’t a laughing matter for people with the condition. They deserve to be treated with respect and understanding," Spittles added.

A 2019 study conducted by Epilepsy Action and Bangor University found that stigma and stereotypes surrounding the condition still persist. 10 percent of people surveyed had a negative attitude towards people with epilepsy, and 1 percent had a very negative attitude. A quarter of people surveyed said they'd be afraid to be alone with someone with epilepsy, with just under a quarter saying they'd feel nervous about being alone with them and the possibility of the individual having a seizure.

The stigmatisation of epilepsy and ableism I had grown up surrounded by made me afraid to openly acknowledge my own condition. When I was first diagnosed after having an unexplained seizure, I angrily refused to accept the diagnosis. Sitting in the neurologist's office, tears streaming down my face, my first reaction wasn't "how is my life going to change now I have this condition?" but instead, "people are going to make fun of me at school." I had internalised ableism from growing up in a culture that consistently derides and degrades people with disabilities and neurodiverse people. I had gone to school hearing jokes being made at the expense of people with epilepsy. Growing up, I'd hear things like, "Mate, you look like you're having a fucking 'eppy'" or "What are you doing? You look like you're having some kind of fit." But this denial had real-world consequences for me. When I rejected the diagnosis, I turned down medication that would keep my condition under control, and I spent the next few years of my life having a lot of seizures — many of which resulted in hospital stays and caused me a great deal of stress, anxiety, and pain.

Beyond the screen, these remarks are pretty prevalent too. Friends who are aware of my condition have made casual comments about seizures in front of me, sometimes realising a few seconds too late that they've just cracked a crass joke in front of someone it will undoubtedly offend. In the past, I've minimised my own annoyance in that moment, prioritising other people's feelings above my own, laughing it off because I don't want to be difficult. The truth is, it really hurts.

I'm not asking for TV shows to be perfect, but language really matters, particularly when it concerns marginalised communities. Ginny & Georgia's scripted comment isn't harmless — it fuels the stigmatisation of people with epilepsy, which can make living with this condition so much harder.

Next time you want to make a joke about a seizure, just think for a second about the reality of having one. Because I can assure you, it's the least funny thing I've ever experienced.