The Window To My Soul.

The Window To My Soul.

My windows are broken, and the shards are tugging and tearing at my soul.

Yesterday I had another haemorrhage in my eye, the worst I’ve had in a long time. (You can read more about my battle with Diabetic Retinopathy here)

The blood has clouded my vision so badly, I can barely see. As usual, the specialists have no answers. They can’t tell me why I have had another bleed. They can’t tell me why years of laser therapy hasn’t stopped the haemorrhages. They can’t fix it. They can’t tell me if it will get better, or worse. All they tell me is I have to wait. Wait to see if the blood reabsorbs. Wait to see if it bleeds more.

I feel broken, and defeated. I’m 33 years old, and I already can’t drive, I already can’t carry more children. I feel like I am edging closer and closer to blindness, and I am terrified. I am scared and angry. It’s taken me half an hour just to write these two paragraphs, because I just. can’t. see.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t have time for this. My whole life is focused on helping my girl, getting her through each day, fighting for her, tackling one hurdle after another with her.

And now I can’t see? What the fuck?

My eyes are the window to my soul, and the view ain’t pretty.