Out from the Anxiety Closet

Woke with a head full of anger at three this morning and couldn’t pinpoint why. Was it the odyssey-esque hunt for a place to meet Hillel for dinner last night?

• The Mexican place we'd planned on was shut due to a gas leak (found out when I arrived at the door).
• Fat Cat, just a few doors down, was majorly crowded. I’d have needed a big smile and a handful of lube to get anywhere near the bar.
• The service at the nearby Indian restaurant’s bar was so obscenely slow that I walked.

This was annoying but was it enough to wake me in a fury at three?

Nah. I think the rage is likely a delayed reaction to Tuesday’s ophthalmology appointment. You see, Doc Lessell needed to put in those drops that dilate my eyes. I knew he would. What I hadn’t expected was that I’d be mega light sensitive and my vision would be wonky for the entire day. Usually  the drops effects wear off after a few hours. Not this time. My appointment was at 10:30 in the morning and it wasn’t until the following morning that my vision was back to peak operating performance.

 Jesus that was freaky. Remember—deaf here. To be without sound AND have my sight more fuzzed out than a Monet seen through gauze, well boyhowdy, that’s no fun. At all. I couldn’t read, couldn’t paint and triking without clear sight was a total nonstarter. Additionally, the world was painfully, Klieg light bright.

If I’d understood that it'd be an entire day without full use of the old eyeballs, I would’ve prepared. How? I’d have set up my wheel, had a bunch of clay weighed out, wedged and ready to throw. I’d have had a fresh canvas primed or a new wall in the house prepped and ready for color.

AND I would’ve had someone bring me to my appointment and tote me back home. Exiting MGH in heavy traffic, navigating 93S, driving down Quincy Shore Drive and getting home withOUT wrecking was quite a feat—one that I will not attempt again.

Yeah, this was all stressful and a little scary but why am I pissed? Dunno. I think that’s my general default emotion when I’m afraid, when I feel at a loss as though I can’t manage in the world around me (as much as anyone can) or act independently.
Back when I was studying ASL more actively, I’d go to sign language practice sessions at a mall nearby. These were informal gatherings with a few folks who were fluent and a few who weren’t—most knew more than I. In any case, there was always a hearing/seeing woman with a deaf/blind friend/charge in attendance.

I was more than a little in awe of the duo. The hearing/seeing babe would sign directly into the deaf/blind woman’s hand. Communication happened. Wow!

I also felt a bit nervous around them. Why? My mother eventually lost most of her sight—this was in addition to being deaf. I don’t want to be deaf AND blind. I’d feel much, much too helpless. I’m not good at helpless. I’m uncomfortable with needing assistance. So, this pair sparked my fear of a mebbe, possible future.

Mind you, it seems unlikely that I’ll suffer my mother’s fate. My orbs are in better shape than hers were, I take good care and see a top neuro-ophthalmologist regularly. Being aware of this and knowing it enough to dispel fear are two different things.

Being, unexpectedly, without decent vision for a day opened my anxiety closet door.