When I learnt I had an illness that destroyed my eyesight, I think I was in a phase where you don’t really understand or realize what’s happening to you. So I just nodded quietly to the doctor, and then Mom, who was crying, brought me back home. Then, as I didn’t have any problems seeing or stuff like this, I still didn’t really know and care about my illness. Actually, the thing is, when I was even smaller, I just was so scared becoming one of those disabled people or children, but sometimes you're frightened about things and once they happen to you, finally there’re not so bad. That’s what I felt. Until the illness did really start manifesting herself. My eyes began to hurt, and I needed to put a special cream on them, to reduce the inflammation. And sometimes, my view could suddenly become all dark for several minutes, and then come back as normal.
But, strangely, this didn’t have much of an impact on me. I smiled a usual, helped as usual, saw my friends and went to school as usual. Nothing had really changed, even if I now knew that in a couple of years I’d be blind. People always think that disabled persons like me are depressive, don’t enjoy life just because of their malady. I say that’s not true in all cases. Not all handicapped people are sad and want to kill themselves. You can be deaf and happy. You can be in a wheelchair and cheerful. The reason why these persons are sometimes mournful is maybe because of the look others have on them, the things others say on them, and the reactions others can have towards them. A disabled person has just much more chances to sit alone during lunchtime. You must think I’m this sort of girl giving lessons and everything, but look, I’m 13, becoming blind and only giving my point of view on a situation I certainly know better than you do. And I’m not saying that you must help these persons, that it’s your fault and things like this, I’m just trying to explain a point that is complicated to understand, that’s all.
I was 8 when I learnt. 5 years later, I can still perfectly see. I was kind of getting hope, but all this hope fell back last week. We went to a specialist, and in one sentence he just cleared out everything. He basically said that the illness would become so intense in a very short time, and that I’d probably be blind in autumn, maybe even before. I could have expected. I should have expected. A couple of years had already passed, one day it would happen. I couldn’t wait eternally. There just was no place for hope. I said that it wasn’t so bad, that I didn’t dread the instant I wouldn’t see anymore. The problem is, I had put too many chances on hope.