Since I'm playing catch-up with the blog this week (posts I meant to do weeks ago), I decided that the mood Kyrie for this one would be a retro-Mood Kyrie! This is a picture of Kyrie as a little pup with me on the very first day we got her. :)
Fast-forward to a day around four weeks ago when I bent over to get a frisbee for Kyrie's daughter Blazie. Unfortunately, Blazie was trotting back toward me at the time, and we ran into each other. More specifically, Blazie's rock-hard forehead rammed me in the temple. By that evening we knew that I'd suffered a mild concussion.
It's taken me these four weeks to recover fully. During the first three I was unable to look at TV's, computer screens, or my iPhone without pain. I couldn't go to the grocery store without having panic attacks (complex visual things are very bad when you're concussed). I was unable to read books, and even audiobooks (which some concussed people have no problem with) made me hurt for the first week or so. When I was able to go back to my job, I had to turn out most lights in my department and spend a lot of time sitting quietly in the near-dark between batches of work.
Needless to say, this was not only boring, but extremely frustrating! I had a new story in progress that I was excited about, and I couldn't work on it. I had been trying to establish a routine for upcoming NaNaWriMo in November--now scrapped for who knew how many weeks. Out of annoyance I set my computer screen brightness to zero and typed without heeding spelling or spacing errors. Thus the title of this post. After, I went back and fixed things (once I could look at a computer screen without wincing). Here is what I wrote:
"I walk around at work with my eyes squinted shut--AND sunglasses on, because even with my eyes almost closed, the light feels too bright. I think I have the tiniest bit of understanding now of what a blind person feels like. I find myself counting the steps to the corner by the time clock so I can walk the whole thing with my eyes completely closed. I get very annoyed when people leave things on the floor out in the aisles for me to stumble over. At home, the fridge light is so bright to me that I close my eyes and concentrate on the feel of the glass in my fingers to try to judge when the cold water is almost to the top.
The biggest spur to creativity is to be told that you can NOT exercise it. I itch to work on projects I began just before this happened. My new short story cries to be finished. I tried to do this to it, writing it with the monitor black, and got a few sentences, but it's not the same. I'm a visual person. I like to commune with my words as I write them.
Ideas pour into my brain with no outlet. I tried to make myself work on my drawing today, but it was too much. The more I push, the longer my recovery time, I'm told.
I forced myself to get back to work in my second week, but can't do more than three or four hours before I go home, exhausted (or having panic attacks from too much visual stimulation).
I can not wait until this is over. I am terribly glad that it WILL be over, that this is temporary. How would it feel to lose my sight permanently? The thought terrifies me.
I am making these notes because I know that some day I'll use this in a story or a book. Future me: never underestimate the amount of frustration an active, creative person feels when they simply can not do what they are used to. Never take for granted the ability to act upon your desires with no (physical) limitations."
