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cosmolinguistMost of the time I don't mind. Really. I forget that I'm missing out at all, since I've never known anything else. In fact, when I was very young, I was totally blind--I was born that way, since my optic nerve, among other things, didn't form properly--but that, for reasons still unknown, ceased to be true when I was about two. I don't remember it myself, but my parents have told me the story of my dad coming home from work, turning on a light in our house, and me looking up at it. My mom once called it a miracle.
So I think I'm doing pretty well, all things considered. I see well enough that people sometimes don't notice until or unless I tell them (though one of the problems with my eyes is a noticable one--a weakness of my eye muscles makes my eyes jump back and forth all the time...though I've been told this has gotten better in recent years; I can't tell myself, the things I'm looking at don't appear to be jumping around, so I guess my brain has figured out how to compensate).
But there are still things that get to me, sometimes.
Driving is an obvious one. With my glasses, my vision in my good eye (which is about twice as good as the other eye) is on the border of what the state of Minnesota will allow for its drivers. I'm told that some people who can see this well drive--carefully--and some just don't. It depends. I am in the second category, because as much as I'd love to be able to get around on my own, I know just from riding in cars that I cannot see well enough. I've driven cars for short distances, and sometimes have trouble making out things on the dashboard. Road signs are kind of iffy. Anything unexpectedly appearing in front of me, forget it. There's just too much to watch when driving a car.
When I stop to think about it, not being able to drive has impacted my life quite a bit, in ways that I would've have expected besides alll the obvious ways like not having to pay for a car and only being able to go to movies or restaurants (real ones, not the ones in Morris) if I convince someone else to go and take me with them.
Here's a more sublte effect: Since I grew up on a farm, the only way to see anybody or do anything is to drive somewhere, and besides being really annoying for me, I think this made my parents think they had control over my life far past the age where they should've stopped (the age, for instance, where my younger brother started being a normal teenager who was never home and never wanted to talk to his family). Not that I blame my parents; I thought the same way. Because it was true, they did seem to control my life. Not directly, or maliciously or even purposely. But I noted at the time that they couldn't ever really ground me if they'd wanted to, since I already lived the way other kids did when they were grounded. And even now, it's hard to extract myself from my parents sometimes, because I don't want them to hate me and I know they won't like it if I do anything too independent. Not that this is all the fault of me not being able to drive, but I swear that's part of it.
Besides that, I love road trips. I like the whole experience. And I feel bad because I'm pretty much worthless for them, as I can't help drive.
Also, as long as I'm whining, I'd like to say a word about subtitles. And that word is contrast. Who decided yellow was a good color for this anyway? Especially for anime. Now, I like anime, or at least I think (thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
soltice and xsilverfox) I could like some of it if I knew more and watched more. But they're purists, who can't stand to watch things dubbed--which I understand, because I like it better that way too--and so I have to be trying hard in order to follow along. The same sort of thing is often true of movies in other languages, many of which I love but all of which can be hard to watch. And it's not fair.
I remember being in our backyard with my dad one night when I was quite young. He showed me constellations. See that bright star there? That's the end of the handle of the Little Dipper. I asked him what a dipper was, and I remember that he said it was a little basket for water, because I imagined a basket in the sky, made of points of light.
But I didn't have glasses yet and without them I can see only the brightest stars; the sky is mostly black to me, and thogh I can see a few light dots, it's often not even enough to catch my attention. And I love stars. But stars always bring out longing in people, we want to reach out to them. I want that too, but I'd be happy just to really see them.
So I think I'm doing pretty well, all things considered. I see well enough that people sometimes don't notice until or unless I tell them (though one of the problems with my eyes is a noticable one--a weakness of my eye muscles makes my eyes jump back and forth all the time...though I've been told this has gotten better in recent years; I can't tell myself, the things I'm looking at don't appear to be jumping around, so I guess my brain has figured out how to compensate).
But there are still things that get to me, sometimes.
Driving is an obvious one. With my glasses, my vision in my good eye (which is about twice as good as the other eye) is on the border of what the state of Minnesota will allow for its drivers. I'm told that some people who can see this well drive--carefully--and some just don't. It depends. I am in the second category, because as much as I'd love to be able to get around on my own, I know just from riding in cars that I cannot see well enough. I've driven cars for short distances, and sometimes have trouble making out things on the dashboard. Road signs are kind of iffy. Anything unexpectedly appearing in front of me, forget it. There's just too much to watch when driving a car.
When I stop to think about it, not being able to drive has impacted my life quite a bit, in ways that I would've have expected besides alll the obvious ways like not having to pay for a car and only being able to go to movies or restaurants (real ones, not the ones in Morris) if I convince someone else to go and take me with them.
Here's a more sublte effect: Since I grew up on a farm, the only way to see anybody or do anything is to drive somewhere, and besides being really annoying for me, I think this made my parents think they had control over my life far past the age where they should've stopped (the age, for instance, where my younger brother started being a normal teenager who was never home and never wanted to talk to his family). Not that I blame my parents; I thought the same way. Because it was true, they did seem to control my life. Not directly, or maliciously or even purposely. But I noted at the time that they couldn't ever really ground me if they'd wanted to, since I already lived the way other kids did when they were grounded. And even now, it's hard to extract myself from my parents sometimes, because I don't want them to hate me and I know they won't like it if I do anything too independent. Not that this is all the fault of me not being able to drive, but I swear that's part of it.
Besides that, I love road trips. I like the whole experience. And I feel bad because I'm pretty much worthless for them, as I can't help drive.
Also, as long as I'm whining, I'd like to say a word about subtitles. And that word is contrast. Who decided yellow was a good color for this anyway? Especially for anime. Now, I like anime, or at least I think (thanks to
soltice and xsilverfox) I could like some of it if I knew more and watched more. But they're purists, who can't stand to watch things dubbed--which I understand, because I like it better that way too--and so I have to be trying hard in order to follow along. The same sort of thing is often true of movies in other languages, many of which I love but all of which can be hard to watch. And it's not fair.I remember being in our backyard with my dad one night when I was quite young. He showed me constellations. See that bright star there? That's the end of the handle of the Little Dipper. I asked him what a dipper was, and I remember that he said it was a little basket for water, because I imagined a basket in the sky, made of points of light.
But I didn't have glasses yet and without them I can see only the brightest stars; the sky is mostly black to me, and thogh I can see a few light dots, it's often not even enough to catch my attention. And I love stars. But stars always bring out longing in people, we want to reach out to them. I want that too, but I'd be happy just to really see them.