Thursday, January 12, 2012

In Which I Answer An E-mail On My Blog About My Far Too Vague Blog Post

Rachel,

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.

Love you,

Renee

6 comments:

mrsmouthy said...

It's not fair that we live so far apart. I want to stop by your house and give you a hug and then let you trash-talk me and my family for the rest of the day. Of course, you'd probably all catch my rash if I hugged you...

Thanks for posting something so "real," Renee. It sucks that life has to be this hard for you right now and it sucks that you don't know how long it's going to feel this hard and it especially sucks that there's nothing any of us can do about it. But we all love you, if that counts for anything.

Kristin said...

I love you, Renee. And I promise to tell you there's a pole even if you aren't nice to me (as if you'd ever be rude to me). Family and friends love you and will do whatever they can to help you, no matter what. Remember that.

The Wizzle said...

I love you too.

Anonymous said...

Over here from Mrs. Mouthy's blog. Very real post and funny too. Glad you posted it. For the record, if I ever see a blind person about to run into a pole, I will warn them. It's okay to be a b-word when losing your site. It totally sucks, but sounds like you have a lot of friends and family for support, which hopefully helps a bit.

Becky said...

Oh I can so relate as I laughed and felt empathy from your writing. Just the other day, Steve was driving me a little crazy at the grocery store and I thought - I have got to be nice to him ... I need him to take me to the grocery store :). Its not complain-y ... if you are like me, there is a sadness that hits at times. Thanks for being real and sharing. One of these days I sure hope we get to meet and have a long lunch or something.

Martha said...

Sometimes complaining is cleansing; and writing about the sadness lets people know you're hurting. You don't always have to be nice to people; everyone has days when you are just feeling awful, and you take it out on the people around you. Everyone does that, able-bodied or not. The confidence to be out with the cane and with other people will come in time. It's practicing and walking with over and over again. Where are you from? Are you a member of any blindness organizations? I'd be glad to share tips/ideas and help in any way I can. Good luck!