Do You See What I See? I Doubt It.

I have always been blind. I remember getting my first pair of glasses when I was in grade 1 and knowing that I definitely needed them. I can't remember how it came about that people realized I needed them, but I am sure it was something ridiculous like squinting to see my own hand when counting on my fingers. Looking back on my style, I went from being insanely Suri Cruise cute, to being an ultra dork with the purchase of pink-tortoiseshell glasses AND to top my humiliation off, I chose a Mario Brothers glasses case. In case anyone was wondering what my destiny would be in terms of favourite literature/movies, that single purchase sealed the deal. Sure some children would have chosen a Northern Getaway-type case with a cute pattern, but no, I chose Mario. Thanks younger conscious, you were a great help to my social status as a child...not.

Everyone I meet, who finds out I am blind and wear contacts, begins the series of very predictable questions and outrageous requests as if I hit my head, and they are determining if I have permanent brain damage. "How far can you see?? Take your glasses off, how many fingers am I holding up? Can you see me now?? How about from here??" I understand that it is hard to fathom if you never had a sight problem, to then wrap your head around someone who can't see their hand in front of their face, but really? Come on. If someone said they had trouble hearing, would you then start whispering to see how little they could hear? Or if someone was in a wheelchair, would you demand them to just try to stand a little?

I used to not understand how the people in comics couldn't guess who the superhero was. How did people not know Clark Kent was Superman, when he was just wearing a different outfit? At least I thought that until one day last year I had to wear my glasses instead of my contacts to school. Everyone's reactions were actually appalling. "Whoa! I didn't know you wore glasses! Wow you look so different!" Really? I have a small, mostly transparent item across my face, do I really look that wildly different? Perhaps I should fight crime, but only in my glasses so no one will be able to guess who I am. 

I have also always wanted someone to do a research study linking extreme nearsightedness to being afraid of the dark or what I like to call "shadow fear." When in bed, the moment those glasses come off for me to sleep, my room changes from a fun-loving ikea model, to Dante's 9 circles of Hell. The coats handing behind the door become the latest badies from Criminal Minds and even Pinkball gives a horrifying death stare. Someone needs to legally and undeniably prove that my cowardice is related to my physical disability, rather than a weak mental state.

One day I will probably get laser eye surgery to help with my sight, but I think I'll give it a few more years until they get out all the kinks. If I lose my eyes, I will be seriously bummed. Which is probably similar to when they started doing appendectomies, no one wanted to be the first person to just get their appendix out. I would hate my eye surgery to be something like Tom Cruise's in Minority Report and knowing our house, Bond would leave a rotting sandwich next to my new lunch, for me to mistakenly munch on. Until then, I might apply for a golden retriever to fetch me my glasses in the morning when I can't ever find them directly beside my bed or to help me sniff out a dropped contact lens in that awkward transition between putting my glasses down and placing my first contact in when I am completely blind for 15 seconds. 

I have typed this entire blog without contacts/glasses and it has taken me 3 days. This is why I haven't posted in so long. Sorry.