I was born with a vision impairment called achromatopsia.
I’ve never been diagnosed (for now), because this disorder is rare. The part
people find most interesting is that I’m completely colorblind. They always ask
me a flurry of questions when I tell them that, which I don’t mind. What they
probably wouldn’t find as interesting is that this disorder also means I
struggle with pretty bad visual acuity and extreme light sensitivity.
Everyone has struggles, right? Sometimes they are cleverly
hidden, and sometimes they are painfully obvious. Unfortunately, we live in a
culture that values flawless perfection. Maybe I know better than most that
this is impossible. I think that my story, like the stories of those like me,
can illuminate the balance between strength and weakness, between independent
achievement and humble dependence. And I have this weird idea that my friends
and family would like to understand my perspective of the world and share in
the adventures, and misadventures, of the seeing blind (I know, it sounds like
the walking dead or the undead (so, maybe the unblind?)… except I’m not going
to eat anyone or haunt you in creepy places. Ok, I’ll stop). : )
First, the basics. Here are the two hardest things about
achromatopsia:
1) Without fail, every written account of someone with
achromatopsia has said that the hardest symptom is the extreme light
sensitivity. I know you’re sad that I can’t see colors, but, frankly, I don’t
know what I’m missing there. What I do know is that stepping out into daylight
for me is going from legally blind to almost completely blind. It’s worse
actually. It’s like the visual equivalent to trying to hear when you’re right
next to a roaring jet engine. You know how you see after stepping from a dark
room into the sunlight, those first few seconds when you can’t see a blessed
thing? Imagine if that didn’t go away. Even indoor lighting, depending on an
endless list of potential variables, can be debilitating.
Here’s a video which gives a pretty good idea of what this
is like (the first half or so—the rest is about lenses to help correct it some):
2) Achromatopsia causes some pretty daunting social
challenges. The emotional/social consequences of this disorder do vary
according to a person’s experience and support system, but one idea reoccurs to
different degrees: the feeling of being in the middle of two worlds, being
stuck between disability and normal life (hence the name Seeing Blind). I don’t
think I’ll go much into this in this post, because there is a lot to say on
that subject.
Finally, I want to make sure you know that I share this not
because it defines me, though it has helped shape who I am. I share it because
I think it can be helpful (and amusing at times—wait until you read some of my
mishaps). I hope you’ll keep reading, and I hope you can gain some
encouragement and direction from my experience.
Hi Kristina
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for starting your blog. I hope you keep it up and that it brings you fun and fulfillment as you record this aspect of your life.
I am a mother of a young child with Achromatopsia. She is nearly 5 years old and is so funny, cheeky, adorable and cheerful that she is simply a delight, even when she is naughty.
As you say, Achromatopsia is so rare that there is very little information about it. That is why I value any experiences you are willing to share, so that we may learn as much as we can as we muddle through.
I have so many questions but I won't pester you, I welcome your (very well written) words and look forward to more.
Best wishes
Cathy
Cathy,
DeleteI am glad to hear this is helpful! It sounds like you're a step ahead of my parents, who had no idea that such a thing existed. Fortunately, there's more information on it now than then.
Don't feel like you would pester me. I'd be happy to help. Feel free to ask questions either here or in email if you'd like. Since this is connected to my google account, my email may already be posted, but here it is anyway: kristina.benham@gmail.com.
Thanks for your interest in my blog. : )
Kristina