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Thursday, 1 February 2018

A PART OF MY HEART (FOREVER DARKNESS) BY FIONA CUMMINGS


Good morning Dearest Bloggets. Up at silly time today after very little sleep and the sleep I had, was interrupted by the same nightmare which I have had in slightly different versions now for more than half a year.

 

As I awoke, the comfort of my Husband being next to me and him being in my nightmare as we were being forced to part in the most dreadful way, was reassuring to me. A comforting arm around me and whispering words brought me back into reality, but with my heart racing to the other side of the room, leaving my trembling body numb by fear, I couldn’t get back to sleep. So, I think I have had possibly just over two hours sleep during the night.

 

It was a late night too. By the time Hub and the Little Fella got home, and we spoke of his two days away, including what a model guide dog Hubs Little Fella was, it was well after the pumpkin hour!

 

Last night at home before Hub got in was a one of stress and heartbreak. But we jog on. And I thank God for my Husband. When I think of all the people I know out there who are either blind or partially sighted, with sighted partners, I know I’m blessed.

 

Every time I receive emails from people or read in general groups I’m in of how sighted partners treat those with poor vision or who are totally without sight, I shiver. I was there for 23 years with my ex. Even though I loved my ex and we had some special moments, the majority of life back then was very lonely and crushing to my confidence. One good thing that I haven’t read yet, is that the people are not being physically abused. Thank God for that as again, if they were, or, are, I would also know how they feel.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I also know people who truly love their partners/Husband/Wives’. they love them as a person, not as someone who has sight difficulties.

 

I read of people who say they have been told that they are a Burdon and causing stress. Oh, my, is it an excuse? I’m sure it is. I have friends who are totally blind who do DIY, gardening and work full time. My Husband works so hard full time and he will do ironing cooking and many more household tasks. We brought up children on our own without the help of sighted people. We are more than capable of doing life. so, stress? Burdon? If those people were sighted, they would find that there would be another excuse for their marriages not working out.

 

My ex who was fully sighted, never ironed, washed clothes even. He never cooked or dusted. He worked hard and did the DIY and garden. But I cleaned cooked and did all phone calls that had to be done as well as helped him with his business which by the way, I started for him writing advertisements out to pin in shop windows. He had a very good easy life. of course, to his family, I’m sure they believed I sat in a chair all day listening to talking books whilst weaving a cane basket and my ex came in from work and had to do everything… I mean, not sure who they thought brought up my Son as my ex worked up to 17 hours some days and the days he wasn’t working, he played.

 

 Sadly, he hasn’t learned any lessons in life and continues to be the same as he used to be. It’s a shame really, as I hoped he would fine someone to make him happy who he would respect more than me and treat well. But instead he has many dates with strangers and continues to see in the dark and close his eyes to the light. I just hope he doesn’t end up a very lonely old man. Mind you, if he does, he may know what I went through for those long 23 years.

 

So, when I read of people being put down in relationships, I feel so sad for them. And helpless. The only thing I have to offer are my words to tell you, you are worth more than you will ever know. And, if you are going through depression and who can blame you, we have a load to cope with in life more than those with sight will ever know. Just because one person tells you that you are worthless, probably means that there are another fifty people who will tell you otherwise. Start standing up for yourself. Don’t be knocked into that corner or pushed down that deep, dark damaging alleyway. Get through that tunnel and walk into the light at the other side.

 

My whole life was spend trying to save my vision. To be honest it wrecked my life. if my Mum had excepted the fact that I was one day going to be blind, then my life would have been so much better. I would have had a career for sure. I would have had a purpose. Self esteem. And moreover, a belief in myself. I would have married my loving husband from when we were both young rather than had to wait 28 years. As we wouldn’t have parted for different schools when we were twelve. We would have ended up at the same school. But my Husband went to a very good school for those who are blind. Whereas me, well I wasn’t going to go blind, right?

 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure in my Mums position I would have done the same. Of course, if you are offered treatment for your child’s eyes, you are going to take it. But if a fairy God Mother came down and told her of the future, I wonder if she would have continued ruining her life as well as mine and my Dads?

 

I say ruining because every school holiday was spent abroad in a dreadful hospital with third world conditions and the worst most painful injections and no child should have to have the experience of eye injections without any pain relief. Or being bullied at school because you went to Russia. By kids and staff. And even parents of my peers. I was a child I had no choice and I for sure didn’t deserve what I received.

 

The first time I went to Russia, I was in hospital for seven weeks. I was six. I was forced away from my Mum who I left in floods of panicking tears whilst over my shoulder I saw her being held back from coming after me by a big, bearded burly man. It was the start of electric shock treatment, the threat of leaches to my skin and 172 injections. The worst part was I didn’t see my Mum for seven weeks. She wasn’t allowed to be in the same room as myself. And boy, did she suffer because of that. Knowing my Mums story, it must have been hell for her. And how alone she must have felt too. She was alone in Russia in the seventies. A place that wasn’t exactly a holiday destination. She didn’t speak Russian and it was hard. Tough. It was the winter and on average in those days it wasn’t uncommon for temperatures to reach 27 below freezing.  There were no shops with items in like every day things in fact the shops that were there were vast buildings that were full of empty shelves and many busy bodies sporting poor animals on their head and wrapped in animal skins to keep warm. People frustrated I’m sure by what there wasn’t to offer but they were there on the off chance that one day, there may be something to buy.

 

Of course, Russia isn’t like that now, well Moscow isn’t. there is nothing you can’t buy in Russia now. if, you have the money. For those who are not wealthy, it’s just a life of a teas.

 

I’m sure the hospitals are not like that too. In those days, they were dirty dark and dangerous. They thought nothing of carrying rabbits through the crowds of people squashed together in the narrow corridors. God only knows what happened to those poor creatures. And I know the treatment I was receiving was brand new, so God also only knows what the heck I was given. What ever it was, it was truly painful in the early days. The new serum was thick and the pains were heavy. The conditions were simply awful. But, my sight did improve. A tiny little bit each year. When I started to go to Moscow, I saw one line with one eye nothing with the other. That the lines on the eye chart. By the end of my visit, I saw two lines with one eye and one with the other. All they ever promised my Mum was the fact they would stop me from going blind. That’s all she wanted. Blindness terrified her. Because I’m adopted, I feel that my Mum made her own commitment that she would do her best for me. And she did. She sacrificed her life for me. Little did she know back then I would have to go to Russia every six months for the rest of my life, because the UK wouldn’t except the treatment. By the end of my visits there, I was 22. I saw eight lines with one eye and seven with the other. And slowly my vision deteriorated so much, but I still could see enough to see my babies face and even read to him though of course he was far too young to understand. He was one year old. When that fatal day came and I woke up in the forever darkness!

 

© Fiona Cummings

    

 

 

 

 

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