I spend pretty much all day, everyday writing in some way, or reading. Even when I’m having a day off, I’m still using my eyes, because well… It’s kind of impossible not to do anything without using them.
When I was a kid, I remember going to an optician and being told to stop whining and to stop wanting to be like my mother and grandmother. My grandmother was blind – from a hereditary, degenerative disease called Retinitis Pigmentosa. I mean, I really, really didn’t want to be like her and be blind. As for my mother, well. She always complained of double vision – and when, as a child, I complained of it too – the optician didn’t believe me.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve seen two of pretty much everything. After that optician visit though, I just kind of got on with it. There was no use complaining; it was the ’80’s and that’s just how it was. So, I would work my eyes to the very brink, straining to see straight in school and beyond. I’d often had migraines and headaches, but again… I just coped. It wasn’t until my twenties when I went for an eye test that I learnt that my eyes were rugby ball shaped instead of the more usual soccer-ball shape. It meant that light refracts differently off my retina, causing blurriness and double vision.
Take that, silly 1980’s optician.
Anyway.
Over the following years, I’ve had a somewhat sporadic relationship with glasses. I’ll wear them when I’ve been to the optician and received a new prescription – but then often, my headaches start to get worse, and I’ll eschew the glasses. I find them a bit restrictive too, not being able to see past the frame. It’s kind of ridiculous, I can see straight – but then, I’m so used to pushing my eyes to the limit that I can’t deal with the much easier task of not doing it. It’s a vicious circle. Either I can’t see straight – see two of things and everything has a fuzzy edge and have to resort to straining to see even normal things causing headaches. Or, I wear glasses and get disoriented from not having to strain my eyes and end up with headaches.
This evening though, I realised it was going too far. For the last few weeks, it’s been as though I’ve got something in my eye. Not grit or an eyelash – more some sort of sleep residue lurking below my lower lash line. That coupled with fuzzy and double vision, and well. It’s driving me to distraction. So, an eye-test is booked (along with the husband and youngest) for the weekend. I’m already dreading the cost.
But that’s not my only eye oddity. Oh no. That would be far too normal for me.
My eyes have a tendency to change colour depending on my mood (something I’ve passed onto my daughter). When I’m feeling mischievous, they’re almost turquoise. When I’m pissed off, they’re green. When I’m depressed they’re grey. On an average day, they’re a kind of sky blue. I mean, I know they’re not physically changing colour – and it’s more to do with hormone release and pupil size – but still – it’s a bit of an oddity.
The other weird thing with my eyes isn’t really to do with my eyes, per-se, but more to do with my tears. When I cry, my face swells up, becomes blotchy and itchy. Although I’ve never been formally diagnosed (as far as I know), I’ve always been told it’s an allergy to my own tears. I’m not affected by any other water nor by my sweat – but my tears cause a definite reaction. Again, I know that blotchiness is common when someone cries – but when I was a child it was an extreme reaction. My face would be inflamed and hot as well as red and slightly swollen. As I’ve got older, the reaction isn’t as severe, but again, I don’t cry nearly as often nor as hard as I did as a child. I tend to get over sobbing fits within minutes rather than hours. However, my face is still affected and I have a severe headache afterwards. It’s my only known ‘allergy’ – if you can call it that.
So, why am I posting this?
I mean, because being a writer and reviewer means that I need to start being more aware of my ridiculous eyes and my the fact that my eyesight is struggling. Coupled with my grandmother being blind because of Retinitis Pigmentosa, I’ve always tried to be diligent about any changes to my eyesight (it’s an hereditary condition). And, when I was making the appointment for the opticians, my brain decided to wonder about what I’d been told about my eyesight in the past. So that got me researching all sorts of weird things. It’s the way my brain works – how I can go from booking an appointment to researching about how eyes can change colour and if being allergic to your own tears is actually a thing.
So, welcome to my slightly chaotic thought process, and crazy methods of research. My brain retains all sorts of crazy facts, so you never know if any of these will pop up in a story.
Sall x