A good friend of mine made a great recommendation regarding my blog; she pointed out that people new to my blog may not know that when I refer to Zelda(or Z), I am taking about my white cane. So, in future blog posts, if Zelda is part of the story, I will make sure to add a note explaining who (what) she is. Thank you to my friend – you know who you are and I love you!
So, yeah, Zelda is going to be part of this particular post. You may be thinking, ” oh god, not that bitch Zelda again”, but, unfortunately, Z isn’t going anywhere, no matter how hard I try to get rid of her.
I have been treating Zelda deplorably. I have ignored her, shunned her and concealed her on a crowded hook. If I don’t see her, I don’t have to think about her; and if I don’t have to think about her, I can pretend that I can see just like most other people. I am really good at the avoiding and pretending thing.
When I was learning to drive – the second time; a few years after two accidents and a ticket for failing to yield to a pedestrian in a crosswalk (no one was injured) – my Dad took me to an abandoned parking lot to test a theory. He asked me to just drive around as if I were searching for a parking space and then he randomly shouted out things like: OH MY GOD, A BABY IN THE ROAD or LOOK OUT FOR THOSE NUNS; every single time, my response was to take my hands off the wheel and look away, as if I wasn’t really driving the car. My instinct definitely veered in the flight direction and I obviously, in some seriously twisted part of my brain, figured if I ignored it, it wasn’t happening.
Of course, it turned out that my accidents were, in large part, due to RP and my limited peripheral vision, but at the time I had no idea that I had RP and that I wasn’t seeing things that fully sighted people would see. That being said, I still took my hands off the wheel.
I wish I could say that I am one of those people who sees a challenge and jumps in with fearless determination; I am not. I am, however, incredibly proficient at avoiding the things I can do to make challenging situations a little easier. I eventually come around to face reality, but then I close my eyes and turn away like an insolent child; I don’t want this fucking problem, disease, etc., and I am not going to deal with it. I have been doing it with RP for years, so I was bound to treat Zelda with the same dismissive attitude.
As I have said before, and will say a million times, RP is a total mind fuck. It is purgatory. It is the gray area covered in fog. It is a disease that begs to be denied, especially by those who are well versed in denial. But, RP is pesky and persistent and pops up often to remind me that I am defective. No matter how much I want to, RP won’t let me take my hands off the wheel.
It doesn’t matter how many coats and hats I pile up on the hook over Zelda, she is in my head. I have to find a way to see her as an ally, but I am struggling. I feel the weight of her even when I don’t have her with me. I went into my mobility training with a positive attitude, but discovered that this is, without question, the most difficult challenge I have faced in my RP journey.
I am having trouble fending off my insolence. I keep screaming in my head that I don’t want RP and I don’t want the fucking cane, kicking at the reality of my disease and trying to reject it; but, I don’t have a choice, RP isn’t going anywhere. If I don’t find a way to see Zelda as beneficial, one day, I am going to get seriously hurt. The thing is, I can’t imagine it hurting more than it already does.
Stories From the Edge of Blindness 
October 6, 2017 at 9:17 am
So glad you shared that bit of info! Because for no apparent reason, I assumed Zelda to be your dog!
October 6, 2017 at 9:24 am
A friend of mine thought the same thing when she first read about Zelda. I totally should have thought of adding the little bit about Z to the posts before, but I am glad that I was advised to give a little explanation and will continue to do it. Thank you for reading and for letting me know that it was useful.
October 6, 2017 at 10:15 am
Hahha yes it was! Looking forward for more
October 6, 2017 at 9:22 am
I’m so sorry you are experiencing this heartbreaking stage. Denial is a terrible and seductive thing. I went through a milder version of what you describe as a child. Since I was born with a small amount of vision, I was absolutely convinced I could see. I couldn’t understand why people insisted I was blind or different, when I could clearly see colours and shapes. So, when I was presented with a cane and adults began insisting I use it, I thought it was silly and cumbersome and I did everything I could to get rid of it or pretend it wasn’t there. I even left it in the middle of the street once, whereupon it was immediately run over. It survived, of course, which made me even angrier with it. Eventually, as what little vision I had deteriorated, I began to see the benefits of the cane and now, at 23, it truly does represent all that is secure and safe in my world. I go almost nowhere without it, and never feel the need to hide it or pretend it isn’t there. I hope one day you reach this stage, because it is safer and easier. Thank you for writing so lucidly about such a painful, difficult thing. Keep writing and don’t be discouraged. You’ll get there.
Sent from my iPhone
>
October 6, 2017 at 9:30 am
Meagan,
Thank you so much for this. You offer me a proverbial light at the end of the tunnel and I cannot tell you how much that means. I love that you left your cane in the street; it is a brilliant story of rebelliousness that makes me feel like it is ok to go through this bit and that I will come to the other side of it, intact and appreciating Zelda. Thank you for sharing with me!
October 6, 2017 at 9:32 am
I have many more stories of impulsiveness and foolishness, should you ever need them. 🙂