Do you see what I see? I doubt it.

Imagine a world of pitch black were neither color, shapes, nor light can be seen. Imagine a place where voices are heard but the faces they belong to remain a mystery. At the age of fifteen I began to live in that world. Though several years have past and much of my sight restored, I cannot help but feel like I am still trapped somewhat in a dark abyss. After the Labor Day weekend following my birthday I began having visual problems. I was seeing a small black dot in the corner of my eye and told my mom about it. She took me to my optometrist and he informed me that my retina had detached. After grabbing lunch we headed to the Texas Retina Associates office. One of the doctors there took a look at my eye and confirmed me what had happened. I went into surgery the next day. Since then I have endured nine surgeries, two hospitalizations, and a trip to a rehabilitation center for suicidal tendencies. I have completely lost my left eye because it stopped recovering properly due to so many surgeries, and my right eye meets the qualifications for being legally blind. Starting school had been a pain. I missed so many hours I eventually resolved to homebound studies during the second semester of my sophomore year. Though I was hesitant to do so, I started my junior year with my eyes stable. Many people did not, and still do not, understand the situation I was put in. I was learning braille at sixteen instead of earning my drivers license. Walking down corridors persisted as a problem when many people were present. I was not able to read what was written on the board and relied on others to do more for me than I would have liked. I lost my independency and it hurt. However, these minor problems held no comparison to the harassment I received from fellow students. Thinking back to the cruel statements they made still brings me to the brink of tears. Most said I was faking my impairments and seeking attention. Others just played pranks. One of the security officers at my school sent me to the office several times because I was in the hallways during class without permission. No matter how many times I explained to him that I was allowed to, he still forced me to the office and accused me of skipping. I long for the chance to live a normal life. I long for the ability to see just like everyone else. However, longing can only do so much. Realization that my life will never be the same has sunk in by now. No matter how much I deny it, I know that I am different, and always will be. I will always be treated differently and discriminated against in some shape, form, or fashion because of my medical problems. I have accepted my fate for what it is despite its unfortunate nature. My strength is what keeps me alive today. I could have given up a long time ago, but I chose to push on and live to the fullest. The worst of the storm has passed, now is my time to witness its rainbow.