aproclivity

Last night for the first time in a long time, I dreamed of HCC. I wandered through familiar spaces, my steps unmeasured and sure. I smelt familiar spells, found myself feeling a part of whole, feeling wanted, respected, adored. I followed the hallways with no sense of fear, or regret or concern. It was just me and the way the light would warm the hallway heading down to G building, making the concrete have a warmness that didn't feel at all artificial. The smile is as soft as that light, all knowing and absurdity; there is no doubt at HCC for me. I know that if I keep walking, I find G-building just as it was, and I will find everyone whom I need there. I stand before the double doors dotted with pink paper, and even the color selection makes me happy; it is just another piece of HCC fluttering in the wind happy to see me.

And then I wake up here at Moho. I actually quite like my room at Moho, as messy and loud as it can be. I'm half-asleep, my eyes are barely open against the influx of light as I wander down the hallway to the bathroom. My steps are concise and counted. 14 steps into the bathroom stall. I cannot see anything, the light is too bright and my glasses are offering vision to the top of my Wilson. All of a sudden there is a voice, loud and angry around me. “I'm cleaning the bathroom! What are you blind?!” I stop, stunned. My chest tightens, and I can feel my heart falling into my stomach before it is thrust upwards by frantic pushing. Despite all the not-joking-enough comments I make about my blindness, I am almost always surprised when someone else I don't know remarks upon it.

I was embarrassed and upset by her careless comment. I didn't say anything, which is highly unusual for me; everyone who knows me knows why. Instead I blindly groped my way towards the other bathroom. The steps from my room to that bathroom have never been counted, and it was terrifying to me. I do not wanna live with this sort of emotion anymore, I do not want to have to count on how my fingers touch the wall, and the sensation of vague shapes within my vision. I do not want to almost knock over trashcans everywhere. I just want to go back to that time when everything didn't feel that hard and everything wasn't like a slice at me.

So, this is the skinny. I should have done an entry explaining shit yesterday, but yeah I just couldn't put it all down in words and shit. On Friday after the surgery, my vision was entirely weird. It was out of focus and like random and I had a migraine, so I couldn't see very well. Also, I was incredibly stressed out because of the whole being home/Brien thing which didn't help matters. After going to bed early on Friday (after an incredibly disappointing episode of BSG) I woke up late on Saturday.

And this started how shitty my life is gonna be for the next few months. The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that the floaters were still in my vision. The floaters are like... three big ones which sometimes merge into two really big ones and a bunch of smaller black dots and like worm things. I freaked out, as everyone on my LJ and facebook saw, and called the Doctor and had to wait for the doctor to call me back. Apparently the floaters are normal and are going to be in my eyesight until they become reabsorbed into my eye, which takes, in the shortest time frame... two months. Apparently it didn't happen last time because they cut my eye open and drained the fluid, with the famous "there's a fucking NEEDLE IN MY EYE" speech.

I am down to a quarter of the vision that I had when I came to Moho, and half of the vision I had on Thursday, and need to figure out how the fuck I'm going to do this. My eye intermittently waters, and it feels like there's a bruise actually on my eye when I move it. I need to move it; if I don't move it then the floaters just settle right directly in the middle of my eye and there's no possibility of looking around them. And there's the possibility that this is gonna happen again and again because I have myopia, which is extreme nearsightedness and it pulls on your retina or eye or something. I don't know.

In the next week, I need to read 2000 pages, come up with topics and do research for two final seminar papers, do my film midterm and present in one of my classes. And then next week I have reading, and the week after that. In the two months I'm gonna have at least 16,000 pages of shit to read for homework, an oncall week, two more presentations, fifteen papers and just my regular fucking life.

Why do things get easier for me? Really? I... yeah. I don't fucking know. I have no idea how I'm gonna handle this, but I do know I'm gonna call the Doctor's office tomorrow and get some sort of note saying that I fucking had surgery yesterday and am gonnna have fucking floaters forever the next two months. I have no idea how I'm going to get this done. All I keep doing is curling into a little ball and crying. If only, if only they had fucking just caught this last year. I'd have had two months of floaters, and then I'd be fine.