My Husband asked me to write this blog. I must say, it’s a subject that I’m slightly uncomfortable with! I’m not even sure how to start this.
Bear with?
So, growing up, I had some sight. When I stood still I saw chrystal clear. I could read tiny print. As soon as I moved my head, my sight made me dizzy. As in everything was like a broken jigsaw puzzle.
What I could see clearly was only when I kept my head still, and it was in small sections. So, a face, I would look at someone’s eye, see the eye perfectly, move to the other eye, though sometimes pointless, because it was the same as the other one, I wonder if I saw so well what I did see was like sighted people? Then to the nose, remembering the eye, then the mouth, cheek bones and hair. In my mind working overtime to remember all parts of the face. Then my imagination would do the rest for me. I would see colours perfectly well. A car would come towards me passing on the road and I would see a wheel just the one, but it would be clear enough for me to know it was a car. Because I had such good sight, I would not need my hearing or other senses.
At nights, the sky would be dark blue. I would see shadows. I wouldn’t be able to see steps whilst out, or get by in a restaurant, on my own, but I didn’t need to worry. As a child, I was in the protection of boarding school where we were prisoners to the outside world. At home, I had my parents to see for me. When I was in Russia, I had friends and my Mum. I had vision all around me. I read magazines to see what was in fashion. What people had in their houses, I knew what looked good and what didn’t. I was taught by my Mum what colours matched and what didn’t though her fashion style really was dated. But I knew this, because I saw what other girls wore, who were my age.
Then I married. My ex was fully sighted. There was nothing around the house I didn’t do. I could see everything in tiny portions. It took me longer, but I just learned to think faster and remember quicker. My memory was my best friend. I didn’t go out the house really that much only to my parents house and back home. So, I didn’t need to really live in the real world as someone partially sighted. I was in my head I had to be for the past I was living in. I was fully sighted. I had the cushion of sight all around me.
I splashed out in the world of modelling for some time. Working as a teenager. From 13 till 17, my last job was a teen magazine and that was the only job I was told to wear my own clothes. Thank goodness, I had a rough idea what to wear, clothing always was important to me I loved matching colours, it was almost an obsession.
Fashion changed and people started dressing their houses in creams, carpets, walls and furniture all the same. I found this a boring style. Plain to the eyes and lacking in imagination. Where was the fun? The spark of existence. The wow factor? Walking from one cream room to another? Yawn? Each of my rooms at my house had a different theme. A new story to tell, a different chapter spoke to me.
Then the dreaded day came and I had to wake up to the world of forever darkness. That morning occurred where I never wanted to be. I had gone blind, colours, fashion, style, interior decorating was to me to become a part of my life that would never return.
Fast forward many hard years and into the next stage of my life. The next stage which rather than scared me, woke me up to live in a world where I never wanted to go, an yet once there, I was as if born again. There were wires inside of me which came alive. A new spark I still get a sense of thrill inside my stomach as I entered the world of acceptance. At last, I belonged. All of my life, I wasn’t blind, I was not sighted, I was partially sighted but not really allowed to be. It was my Mums ambition to get me sight, to find a cure so I wouldn’t live in a world she couldn’t comprehend and she got told by medics who were trying to fight for my sight to be restored that I had to forget about ever going blind, that sight was the only option. So, nothing prepared me for the blind world. Ten years passed. Feeling very alone, knowing no one at all who could help me or talk to me about what life is like as a blind person, but hang on, was I ready to hear what life was like as a person without sight? Answer, no, as my sight would return, one day soon.
Well, that day never came, but what did, was a new world in the shape of my now Husband.
I divorced my ex and entered into a world with my new Husband, who was totally blind and he had never ever seen. He was born without sight. So, he came from a totally different perspective
He spent most of his childhood at boarding school, his secondary school was for blind children too. Whereas mine was for partially sighted. He lived in the blind world and when he had to enter the big bad sighted world, he had the tools to work with and more importantly the mind set!
He married a woman who was also in the blind world, he has told me that when they did anything like decorate their house, they took advice from sighted people, they never had to think about what looked good, their house and garden was other people’s ideas. What they wore, was what felt nice, like the materials, fashion never played a part in their clothing. Hair styles? Very basic. How do you know what you look like? My Husband has good genes, so he has the base to look good no matter, but I just can’t imagine what it must be like to not know what a face any face, looks like? To someone who has never seen, a face means nothing really, just what one feels like, colours are nothing. It’s like saying to a sighted person, my dress is Shmerlica and my shoes to match are clupick, I have painted my nails blerbin, to compliment the blerbin highlights in my hair. Colour, Shmolour.
When my Husband met, me it was a totally different world. I tried to still look my best, taking some pride in my clothing, I passed that bug onto my Husband, and it did course some conversations as I tried to let him know that certain colours didn’t match. He stressed over this, as before whatever went. I guess it would have been an easier life, but rightly or wrongly, my life has always been in the public and what the people think was, important to me and my Husband is very important to me and has always worked in some sort of management role, so to me, he should look important especially as he works with people who will look and judge. Sighted people do, even if they don’t know it, this is why I get told I don’t look blind, to me it is just people being not very intelligent, as I wouldn’t say to someone, you don’t look like you have a heart problem, or your legs don’t look as if you should have a wheelchair. It’s called insensitive. You may think it, but really guys? There are blind people out there who’s eyes don’t shake, we don’t all wear dark glasses and we do try some of us, to still fit in. It’s so much easier for me to relax my eyes, but because of my past, I try to look like you and look around a room, I catch myself doing this all the time, how stupid am I? I can’t see what is over there, but I don’t want to sit with my head down or straight ahead. Because I had sight, I know how to sit in a way you do.
What I don’t understand is when children are home with their parents and they do start to put their heads down, should the parents say to their children, hold your head up? And why should that child do that, just to fit in with the sighted world? My Husband does sit in a way that is quotes normal, I guess by luck, as he has never been told to do so. He doesn’t look around the room, because he is comfortable in the blind world and since I have met my Husband, I have learned more than I ever thought possible.
We have done things in the eight years we have been together than I did in the forty years before as someone in the sighted world. We are a team. Life is a challenge it’s difficult and can be depressing, but also can be so uplifting. We have a sense of achievement. My friend told me the other day we have a stylish house, now to me this is a compliment as her house is so posh so beautiful. I am glad I do have a memory, but how up to date is my memory? I guess if it’s stylish, it’s doing OK? My Husbands clothes are lovely, and he is aware now of what is to go with what, to me this must give him some kind of sense of pride? I hope so. He has pride in our house, for the first time in his life, we decide what goes in our house, what colour our walls are and what we buy to complement each other. He talks about where to put furniture now, he never used to show interest. I hope I have given him a spark because I know he has brought me to life. I was dead for so long my heart mind and soul. I am alive now with a want and need to see what is out there. I dream to see, it’s my hope, but no longer is it my life, I have learned to live, I go out and my senses have all come to life now, my sight isn’t there, but I hear things I have never heard before. I smell things I never knew had a fragrance. This isn’t always good. My brain is full of plans, and my house has gadgets that make living easier. I know and moreover my husband knows he is smart not only in his mind, but in his dress sense. I hope he is proud, as I am very proud of him.
A friend was asking me yesterday, how I cope with certain things? She has my eye disease and is afraid because her sight is going the same way mine did. Right now, she sees colours, she reads print and cooks as if sighted. The step into the blind world can be the most difficult thing that anyone has ever done, unless they are prepared. She is having a dinner party today, she hates telling her family about her sight. Hmm. I know that feeling, she is in denial. Don’t be ashamed. So, you are not like them as far as sight, but you have a brain. You could even be more intelligent than any one you know that is sighted. Your eyesight is broken. But there is room in your brain that wouldn’t normally be awake if sighted, that space in your mind has so much knowledge to share with you, for you to store information. You will be amazed at your achievements. So, tell those around you that you are struggling, until you learn how to do it the blind way. When you except yourself then others around you will feel your vibes, and feel more relaxed with you. My friend asked how we know what dinner dishes matched? Well, try to get different sets in different shapes or with embossed patents on so you can feel them. The worst thing to do is buy different dinner sets that all feel the same.
Clothes, buy different fabrics. Learn how to feel. You think you can feel? No, you really can’t properly until you lost your safety blanket of sight. Why would you need to feel in a way that blind people do? You don’t need to. How do we manage? We have no choice. There are only two options, one get a full-time carer, no thanks, and two do what we do, learn from mistakes and listening to others who are blind, but, you are not different, they are. And different is good. All the same is boring.
X
(C) Fiona Cummings
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