I’m going to put it here: this is not going to be a happy post. It will probably end up being a self-pitying load of crap, but it’s what I’m thinking, and I’m going to document it here for you guys.
This is potentially the most unrelateable topic in existence, but sometimes, I wonder this: why me? In context, it usually is followed by: Why am I blind?
I sometimes, like now, just lose it, and can’t help but think this way, however wrong I know it is. I shouldn’t moan; there are people far worse off, people terminally ill, or deaf and blind, and so on – the list goes on and on. But there are times when blindness seems like shit – like the worst shit -, and there’s nothing worse.
Why me, though? Why am I blind? Out of all of the 7.5 billion people on this planet, why am I the one who is blind? They tell me that I’m super rare, that my kind of genetic blindness is only seen up to 6 times a year, as if that makes things better. No, it doesn’t; it makes them worse, because that makes it seem all the more unfair. Why me, I ask now. Why am I the one who is not only blind, which is rare in itself, but blind with the super rare genetic condition? Why can’t I be like everyone else – sighted, and normal? Why can’t I have two working eyes, and perfectly functioning genetics?
I try to keep up the fake smiles, honestly I do. The whole “blindness has opened my eyes to a whole host of new experiences, people and opportunities”. That quote, however, is not complete, because what follows it is what people don’t want to hear. The whole quote is more like:
“Blindness has opened my eyes to a whole host of new experiences, people and opportunities, but slammed the door on a whole host of others”.
That’s not fiar. And, just my luck, it ends up with me. And I’m sick of it.
I want to have eyes. Many people ask me whether, if given the opportunity, I would accept the offer to restore my sight, and each and every time, I respond, without hesitation, with a resounding “no”. Honestly though, given that choice, I don’t think my response would be that instant, and that conclusive. Loads of my friends also say that they’d rather stay blind, but I wonder if they too are saying it to avoid the self-pity that awaits them if they give in just a little to the alternative option.
Then, there’s the future consequences of having my condition. I have a fairly high chance of passing on the defected gene to any children I have, or even any children that my sister has. I’ll be under constant medical observation until my dying breath, with regular checks, scans and blood tests. But, regardless, I’m expected to march on, because that’s what I’m meant to do. The media always describes blind people as inspirational, but really, if we acted in line with the way I feel now, and the way I’m describing here, people wouldn’t pity; people would judge. We’re inspirational, or described as such, merely due to the fact that we meet the expectations of billions of sighted people.
Do you see what I mean? It’s not being inspirational, because every blind person is publicised in the same way; it’s just keeping up appearances, on behalf of the visually impaired community.
I’m sorry for showing you this side of me; you guys don’t deserve to have to read it. It’s how I felt, and I feel that you guys might, just might, understand, or at least not dismiss me as an attention seeking blindie. Sorry, but thank you for reading.