I used to stare at the sun when I was younger—stare at it until my vision would go black. Used to always be told not to stare at it, that I’d go blind, but I was fascinated by it. So I stared. It would swirl blue—the yellow sun turned blue in my vision, and it would swirl and rotate, and I could control the swirl—which direction it would swirl. I could control whether or not the world blacked out around it, so it was the only source of light that I seen. I could shut down all the rods and cones except for that. I learned how to control my eyes. Never did give me any issues with my vision, as many times as I would stare until the world disappeared. Got perfect 20/15 vision. Well, except for the astigmatism I got, but that was from paint thinner.
I was six, seven, eight years old, something like that, and I was standing next to my dad while he was working out at Dick’s shop, and he pumped the thing with the paint thinner in it to spray out into a rag. It hit the rag and splashed in my eyes ‘cause it just came out in a rush. I was standing next to him, at his hip, and ya know, khhhshhh, and my dad instantly grabbed me, ran into the house, threw me on the counter and dips my head under the sink, and just turns it on—water in my eyes. I was blind for about a week and a half. I mean, I could kind of see, but not really. Ate the front coating off my eyes and caused the stigmatism. ‘Cause now the light focuses differently.
Being out at the shop, working with my dad at night, I got a double ear infection, so I couldn’t hear either. I was blind and deaf for like two weeks. They think that such trauma to the area caused an inflammation, which gave me the ear infections.
It was fuzzy, and light didn’t focus correctly ‘cause the outside of my eye was fucked up and damaged, so it was kind of blistered, light focused funny. I seen rainbows and spots and all types of shit—I could see well enough to not run into stuff. I walked with my arms out, tapping objects with my knuckles. It was just, a mess. There were streaks; there were bubbles; there were all types of shit. The light would come in one way, hit a bubble, and rainbow out, and then it would collapse somewhere else.
My eyes were fucked. I thought for sure I was screwed and going to go blind. The eye doctor went, “No. It’s healing. You’ll be fine.”
I might have learned better balance because of it. Ear infections suck. They can throw off your balance. But my ear infections did not throw off my balance. It just made me not able to hear. I couldn’t hear shit, so I’d focus on some sounds, trying to identify them through the muffle and pain. I had cotton balls in my ears, ya know. ‘Cause you know, walking around like I was.
I’d hear somebody and stop and am like, Okay, who is that. Ya know, someone one walk up to me and I had to roll my eyes around—not turning my head but looking around with just my eyes—trying to find the where the light hit correctly so I could find a spot to see who it was, the clear spot to identify. I was kind of a bitch to get used to.
It slowly got better over time. I mean, even every once in a while, I’d pop my ears, and I’d feel a pool from the ear infection, or I’d blink just right, and I’d feel the outside of my eye—it’s mostly smooth now. Instead of being bubbled out so far, it just ate the front of it off. And it was blistered. It had little bubbles and shit. Now it’s kind of like the scar on my arm—how that scar’s not even with the top of my skin—it’s kind of dipped. That’s what causes stigmatism: light’s just not focusing the same. It doesn’t matter what distance it is. It’s the same fucked-up-ness.