It always happens… I’m doing well, I adapt to another period of vision loss, not much time goes by and there it is again… sneaking up on me when I least expect it. This is my life with retinitis pigmentosa (RP). RP’s progression can come in many forms. For some, it’s very rapid vision loss very early on in life. For some, there are periods of vision loss followed by years and years of stability. For some, vision loss progresses veryyyy slowly through the years, and then for some, vision loss goes unnoticed for many years until diagnosed later in life.
I was diagnosed at 14. I am now 27. Looking back, I can recognize different incidents that were a direct result of night blindness or limited peripheral vision, but I wore glasses and did OK vision wise. I didn’t know I had any problems until my eighth grade year, age 14, when I started having all sorts of medical issues and was eventually diagnosed with RP.
Many people in the blindness community have debated whether it is easier for one to be blind from birth or be partially sighted/diagnosed later in life and lose vision over time. Since I’ve never experienced what it is like to be blind from birth, I can’t exactly compare. I’m sure there are “pros” and “cons” to both. However, in terms of emotionally adjusting to vision loss, it seems to me that being blind from both would be easier.
With RP, you go through many different stages of vision loss, unexpectedly. It’s not like there’s a signal that goes off that says “OK, you’re going to lose more vision.” No, it’s more like, “Ugh, I can’t see that and I know I would have been able to see that a year ago,” or “Sigh… I sure am falling a lot more… I think I’ve lost more peripheral vision.” One has to continuously adapt and acquire more blindness skills, including adaptive technology, orientation and mobility, and independent living skills, many times in their life if they are living with RP.
Many people when they are adjusting to a disability go through the grief cycle: denial/isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Overall, I feel like I’ve reached the “acceptance” stage but can remember when I was in the “depression” stage, especially when I felt like it was affecting friendships and definitely had affected my self-confidence.
With RP, many times when your vision loss progresses more, you experience at least part of the grief cycle again. For example, when I started the process at 16 and then 18 of getting my driver’s license, my vision loss wasn’t as progressed as it is now, but I probably didn’t quite realize how bad my vision was. I kept my drivers license until after I got my guide dog and then realized it kind of looked funky to have a driver’s license with a guide dog. I was sort of in denial for a while that I wouldn’t ever drive again.
One of my very first instances of denial was when I got diagnosed. I was in 8th grade, going through a lot socially and medically, but when we figured out all this was because of RP, things settled down a bit but I didn’t really care. I would tell people I had RP but I just brushed it off. It was just a name to me, nothing else. I didn’t really get accommodations, didn’t get special assistance or mobility tools. I just had some trouble with tripping over a lot of things, falling down and up stairs, and difficulty transitioning from light to dark and dark to light. I didn’t fully start realizing something was amiss until I was in one of my classes in high school and I couldn’t participate in one of the class activities, taking notes while watching a movie. The lights were off and my notepad just disappeared… I was that night blind.
Occasionally, I have been angry about the inability to drive thing, and subconsciously I think I was angry in parts of college when I didn’t feel comfortable going out at night but saw my peers going to parties that seemed fun. I remember when I finally got invited to one of these parties, I was with some attractive young men and a girlfriend and I tripped a little bit and fell in some mud. I managed to catch myself with my hand so it wasn’t on my clothes, but was all over my hand. I didn’t want these cute guys knowing so I managed to hide it and then sneak in the bathroom when I got to where we were walking. I was a bit angry, and embarrassed.
I’ve been fearful a few times, like when my mother who was a huge support moved away and I had to be more independent and rely on others more for transportation assistance. I don’t know that I’d take it to the level of “fear” but I’ve often wondered how I would navigate some of the aspects of parenting, if/when I do become a mom. Luckily, I have amazing blind mom role models that I can look to for advice in this area.
I’ve grieved some of the things I can’t do as easily anymore or can’t enjoy as much anymore. My boyfriend really loves to go to movies, but I have to sit in the exact right spot to get as much of the screen in my limited tunnel vision, but not too far away from the screen that my visual acuity becomes a problem. My eyes also easily fatigue in movies because I have to move my eyes so much to catch what is going on. My boyfriend understands and never pushes the issue, but it does kind of suck that it is such an ordeal.
My life is very fulfilling and quite amazing. I have had a lot of opportunities arise because of my journey as a person with vision loss and the different paths I’ve taken. I am not fearful of RP at this point. I embrace it, and it is part of who I am. I have a lot of supports in place for when I do experience more vision loss, and have an excellent employer and supervisor who understand disability and value me as a person. They are patient and willing to help. However, I do have days where I am frustrated because I am a little bit slower or can’t go at the fast pace I like to live my life, because I have to re-learn or adapt to a new part of my vision loss.
I am now a counselor and recognize that going through the grief cycle is healthy. Not everybody goes through all five stages, and sometimes people make steps back. I know many times myself and fellow RPers do when we experience more vision loss — and that’s OK! If you are going through the grief cycle, whether it be with vision loss, disability, or something else, I encourage you to be patient with yourself. Know there is no right or wrong way to grieve, and it will take time. But you need to allow yourself to do it to move on; covering up your pain and grief will only prolong your struggle.
As featured on “The Mighty”: