Gaining Perspective Through Vision Therapy

Part 6 of a series.  Click here to start at the beginning or here to go to the previous post. 

I came to Session 5 excited to tell Dawn about my week.  She listened intently, creating her plan for the day based on what had happened when I pushed myself too hard. 

After a few exercises she put me in front of a blue light.  It's meant to calm the brain.  As I starred at the blue disk in the dark room, it happened.  My right eye was being used.  I always defer to my left eye.  It was easy and different.  Very strange.

As Dawn and I sat in the dark room with nothing but the blue light in front of me, she encouraged me to visualize seeing depth. 

Sadness rose up within me. 

She continued to describe how I could visualize catching balls and Frisbees.  Her words faded into the background as I dealt with the visual anomaly in front of me and the sadness that was making its way to my tear ducts. 

After 5 minutes, she turned off the light and let me sit in the dark and rest.  As she left the room tears broke through my resistance and poured down my cheeks.  I was sad that I couldn’t even visualize 3D.  Except for the fly I’d seen during my assessment, I couldn’t even imagine what everyone else sees every day of their life. 

I felt child-like again.  Inadequate.  It was as if I was crying for the little girl who realized she couldn’t do things like everyone else.  She had to resolve why she couldn't do things like her friends.  She determined that day that she’d pretend her life was like theirs.  She’d stuff down the sadness of her inabilities and turn it into a wall that she’d stand in front of.  She’d never let anyone see or touch her weak places.  She wouldn't let on that she was 'un' able.  She’d work really hard to keep up.  She’d push and push and push until she could so no one would ever know.

But she knew.  This started a terrible cycle of lying to herself.  She did it so she wouldn’t feel bad but it created a fertile ground for anxiety.  She knew in her subconscious that she wasn’t like everyone else yet she told her conscious mind that she was.  The wall became thicker and higher.  She worked very hard to make sure no one saw what was behind it.  She was ashamed.  She was afraid.  She just wanted to be normal.

We all have walls.

This might be my first realization of what I’ve created. 

I want so much to free that little girl of her sadness.  I want to tell her she’s valuable regardless of her abilities.  I want her to know that she’s loved even if only by her adult self.  I want to help her take down that wall and live in freedom.  I want her to quit hiding.

I want her to believe in her worth.

Who knew vision therapy could be so enlightening, . . . even in the dark?

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