The Way I See It

I don't see things like other people do.

Back in 1999, I was diagnosed with diabetic retinopathy. Two surgeries, one eye, and many blind spots in my remaining eye later, my vision has stabilized into okay but unreliable. I have days when - if I strain - I can read 12 point font without my glasses. I have days when I simply can't read, and no glasses will help. I get headaches when I read no matter what. The effort it takes to discern the letters and then string them into words, and then string those words into sentences is more exhausting than chasing after a toddler bent on destruction. A busy day at work, where I'm having to read & respond to others with alacrity leaves me wrung out and drained - not from any emotional reasons, but from the sheer effort that seeing requires.

Pictures are another ball of wax altogether. My every day reality is blurred. Pictures are a hazy shadow of that blurred reality. It doesn't matter whether they are moving or still, colored or black & white. Pictures are difficult. The latest trend in three dimensional movies is simply out of my reach. I will never see a movie in three dimensions. That's okay, because I don't see everyday life in three dimensions unless I'm able to touch it.

I have always has a passion for the written word. I still do, but now it takes quite a lot of energy to enjoy even the lightest reading on a bad eye day. Books on CD are my saving grace. I can pop one in and knit while I listen to it. Sadly, those little disks of plastic cost quite a lot more than the average book, and most libraries keep a limited stock of audio books. Understandably, they cater to the over 65 crowd, and I cannot fault them for that. I actually understand the budgetary constraints that are limiting most libraries. Personally, I think it sucks.

The worst for me is visual art. I used to have a passion for it. I used to create paintings, and they didn't suck. Oil was my favorite medium, but I enjoyed working in watercolors as well. That world is pretty closed off to me now. I can't see distinctions in colors any longer, nor would I be able to see what my subject is. I see the world as if it were an impressionists painting - fuzzy and blurred about the edges, and that's on a good eye day. That time is done.

There are up sides to this. Because I rely on it more, my hearing and sense of smell are more pronounced. I wont' say that they are sharper, just that I'm paying more attention to them. Because I cannot paint, I create other things. I make knitted items, and I've learned to spin yarn. I will learn to weave when I'm able to have a room for a loom. I've learned to live less in my head, and more in the present than ever before. I've learned to live in this reality every day. Some days I appreciate this, some days it sucks, but I'm doing it. Before, I was very locked in my head. I had to give that up, but that's only a good thing in my opinion. Also, I used to be too independent. No REALLY. Now, I'm having to rely on others, and that's only made my life more wonderful than I could have imagined.I'm blessed with partners who have wonderful vocabularies, and are able to describe the world in great detail when I can't see it for myself. For this, I am more grateful than I'm able to express. Also, they are wonderfully patient with my stubbornness, and never say "I told you so" when I try to see things that we all know I'm not going to be able to.

The world as I see it is a bit fuzzy on some days, and painted in shades of gray on others. No matter what it looks like though, its a pretty awesome place.