Blinded // Discontinued

one | therapy

There's a song I'm posting on the sidebar that you should listen to while reading. 

It's titled "My Skin" by Natalie Merchant. :)

Trigger Warning (the beginning)

Chapter One: Therapy.

Most people don’t understand the concept of being blind. It was worse when you had sight previously. Your whole world becomes a never ending nightmare, and when you realize that it’s gone, you’re in utter shock. You would joke around with yourself; that it was just your mind playing a trick on you and that it’d be back if you just rested your eyes for a little while.

As the shock wore off, it was replaced with the suffering of unbelievable pain. Although excruciating and almost unbearable, it was important that you experienced the pain fully. Being a six year old, I experienced it at its full force. I would scream and cry for it to come back. I would then start feeling guilty and blame myself. It would range from if I hadn’t told that white lie, to saying if I had asked for new pastel paints, everyone would be okay. If I had thought about my parents, it wouldn’t have scattered my already torn family.

Most people would have started making peace with the fact that they would live in darkness. Me? I just couldn’t. I still can’t.

I cried myself to sleep some nights. It’s the kind of tears that make your face burn. The kind you feel when you drag that razor over your innocent flesh.

Don't feel bad or try to pity me because I resorted to cutting myself, I'm sorry, but I did it because I wanted to feel. I wanted to feel something other than the mental pain. The physical pain hurt, but not as much as my bruised mentality. I wanted more than ever to escape this nightmare that became my reality. I wanted to go back into the world where I could do things on my own and not need an assistant to help me, but then the real world smacks you in the face.

No Sophia, you can’t do it. You’ll never be able to do it, you’re blind remember? No one is going to love you, who would? No one wants a girl that can’t see. You’re never going to be anything in life, you’re just going to be another blind human that everyone pities. They’ll always pity, but they’ll never help. For crying out loud, we can't even help ourselves. That’s the fact of the matter Soph, no one wants a handicapped. They’ve got enough on their own plate, why add another burden to that. Just face it, you’re alone.

“Is that how you really feel?” Diane, my therapist, asked while scribbling on her notepad.

I bit my fingernails. Is that how I felt? Of course it is, it was the truth. I nodded hesitantly.

“Sophia, why don’t you let anyone in? I’ve known you for seven years and through these years, I’ve watched you grow. You started here at eleven, you're eighteen now. It seems that every time we meet, you're either seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, or shut yourself out from all help. You believe that the world is out to get you. Is there a reason behind this?”

I shrugged nonchalantly, “Some days are naturally better than others.” I ran my hands through my hair. “Everybody has a story to tell. I just want my story to have a bit of hope. I know it seems like I'm not getting better, but I promise that I will. If I keep holding on, something will appear that makes me feel like I have meaning."

"This happened to me when I was six." I spat out, "I wanted to grow up to be a princess and get married to a handsome prince! I never thought something would come about and tear my childhood from right underneath me! I just wanted to grow up and live. I guess that won’t happen.” A quick change of attitude surprised Diane and myself.