It's funny that you brought up petit mal seizures lil. It reminds me of this story, which is kind of long but interesting nonetheless. Last year I had a friend come into the city to visit, a friend from high school. She was traveling with a roommate of hers. Before they arrived, this friend of mine called me informing me that her roommate was an epileptic and suffered from frequent petit mal seizures and in the past had two grand mal seizures. She said it was nothing super serious and that she could handle herself but wanted to let me know up front. I had very little experience with epileptics in the past--I knew of only one boy my age who graduated in my class. He was an epileptic and an outcast in highschool, a loner. He had a splotchy red birthmark across his face. I always felt bad for him, and once or twice he had a seizure in class. It was pretty frightening to see.

So my friend and her roommate finally arrive in the city, and before meeting up with the two girls I felt increasingly apprehensive about the whole epilepsy business. I didn't know why. It was no big deal, right? But I couldn't shake the images of that boy with the birthmark in my highschool graduating class, twitching on the ground next to his desk with his eyes rolled in the back of his head.

We end up meeting outside of their hotel on the street and her roommate seems completely normal, as far as I could tell. Of course! What was I expecting... She's an epileptic, not some fragile alien life form. My nerves settled. We grab coffee, walk around the city for a bit, hit the market. The girl was extremely funny and made light of her disorder like it was no big deal. Every two minutes or so her eyes would flutter and she would zone out--a petit mal. Each one only lasted a split second though and then she was back to reality. That night the three of us were at my place and I couldn't help but grill her about it. She answered my questions very politely and even seemed enthused to be educating someone on her disorder.

The next day, my friend had planned to spend alone with her sister, who also lived in the area. Her roommate had nothing to do, really, all alone in the hotel. So I offered to take her out for the day, show her around the city. She agrees and we meet outside the hotel once again. We walk for a few hours aimlessly around the city until the girl stops dead in her tracks. Her head was tilted up and her arms hung by her sides. But it wasn't a seizure she was having, she was instead entranced by the building in front of her--a dance studio. She ran inside and disappeared behind the glass doors without saying a word and I chased after.

Inside of the studio there were long, expansive mirrors that stretched way way down, and a bannister that ran alongside. The floors were lightly dusted hardwood and there were a few couples practicing ballet out on the floor. The epileptic roommate already had her shoes off and was about ready to run out onto the floor when she grabs my hand.

This girl could move. Her body was long and slender but she had power and balance to boot. After a while I just stopped dancing (if you could call it that) and watched her go. It was like seeing an entirely different person. She moved without stutter and her arms and legs just flowed there in front of me. Seriously, I had never seen anybody dance like that before in my life.

After she wore herself out she sat on the dusty floor with this huge grin on her face. She told me that dancing was the only way she could think right, moving was clarity. And the best part about it all? No seizures when she danced. Not one. How strange and wonderful, I thought. I always wondered what it would be like to suffer from this terrible disorder but have this one escape, this one thing you could always turn to and be free. I was amazed.

As far as this story goes, the feeling of disconnect between our protagonist and the world is very real, and I'm glad you picked up on it. He's 'different', all right... If I were to expand this, I would most definitely try and find a character he could connect with, as you said. Maybe someone just as 'different' as him...