Oh, I got the belly laughs from your e-mail. Belly Laughs are way more fun after gaining holiday weight.
So, I guess I've been pretty sad about losing more eyesight. And it's manifesting in ways that make absolutely no sense. Like, when I stepped on a toy in the office, I got so upset that I cleaned out the entire room, and it took me a whole day. This is HIGHLY uncharacteristic of me. Cleaning, I mean. And I've been watching movies like crazy, so I can "remember" them better when my sight is fully gone, even the bad ones I don't care about (hence Mrs. Doubtfire). I've gone back to staying inside a lot, because I'm afraid of car traffic again (even with my cane). So my kids keep begging me to take them to the park, and I come up with excuses, like "Oh, we haven't looked you tube videos of piglets yet!" but Rachel, you can only watch so many piglets. And it's been 75 degrees every day, and I waste it, and then feel horrible.
I don't really want to blog about any of it, because it makes me feel like I'm complaining, and I don't feel complain-y. Just sad. And I think those two things are different, but they don't really come across as different on a blog.
My world just feels like it's closing in, which makes me feel like I should hurry up and be useful. And then I say something like that and want to punch myself, because it implies that blind people aren't useful, and hello, yes, I totally know that they are. My friend Adam, who has RP, is playing a show this Saturday to raise money for disabled veterans with his blind friend Mike (who, by the way, climbed Mount Kilimanjaro to raise money for a school for blind children.) So if I'm not useful after losing my sight, that is completely on me.
I also feel like I have to be nice to everyone all the time, because once I'm blind I'm going to be very dependent on the information others give me, and if I'm known for being a total b-word, people are going to be like, "Oh yeah, there's no pole there, keep walking" when there very much IS a pole there. And then they'll laugh and run away and I'll just stand there rubbing my nose and wishing I had been nicer, but also wishing they get hit by a car.
It isn't that I have to try really hard to be nice. But sometimes I feel like my life is dependent on my niceness and likability. Which is a weird thing.
I'm just about to wrap up this e-mail, and I realize I should probably just post this on my blog, because it's probably the most real thing I've written since I stopped trying to write a book about losing my sight. And people like real. And maybe if I post this, people will feel less like letting me run into poles.
Yeah, sorry Rachel, this is going public. Also, I hope your "rash" has cleared up. So gross.