Reaction

It seems like I’ve posted something like this before. Hmm…

At first, I had this long disclaimer about how this post was one big pity party…but then I realized that many, many posts could be interpreted as such…So anyway…

I was reading some other thread, and came across this comment:
“I understand if you want something done you have to do it yourself.”
Which is true enough; at the very least, you could set the ball rolling, could you not? But then again, there’s this thing from greek mythology about a god, called Sisyphus, who is compelled to roll an enormous bolder up a hill. Of course, the bolder rolls back down, and he’s trapped in some infinite cycle of insanity.

Right now I feel just about the same way. And I’ll explain why…
Right now I live with my brother in a college dorm. It’s not bad (from my perspective), but from his I would imagine it’s a nightmare. I still don’t know the campus all that well, so he’s been guiding me to my classes and generally helping me around campus…while juggling his own schedule, his own work, etc. A lot of the textbooks aren’t in audio or braille, so he’s gracious enough to type up problem sets for calculus so I can do them and turn them in for a grade. All that, whether it’s obvious or not, must seriously be a pain in the ass. But really, I’m getting ahead of myself.

When I was little, and even for most of high school, my parents did pretty much everything for me. And so, of course, I was never all that independent when it came to travel. There’s a technique known as sighted guide (I’d post a link if I could figure out this damn thing; if you’re interested, Google it) that, obviously enough, allows a sighted person to guide someone who cannot see. And my family used it like a lifeline. Going from the car to the house (all of a 5-yard walk)? Sighted guide. Walking around a mall? Sighted guide. I think you get the idea. As a result of all this coddling, I’m now fucked when it comes to independent travel, because…I haven’t been doing it. (As I said above, even in college, I’m still not doing it)…and starting just randomly later in life is surprisingly difficult. Compounding this problem is the fact that my state was short on travel instructors, so I would get instruction something like once every 2 months on independent travel.

But the coddling didn’t stop there. We’ll cut your meat, cook for you – hell, we’ll even pour liquids for you, just because it’s easier. I wish I were exaggerating, because this is absolutely pathetic, but I’m not. They might as well have wiped my ass for me to finish it off.

Now, as I said above, I’m fucked. I never really order meat because I haven’t really learned to cut it (apparently, there’s some oddball technique so you don’t slice your fingers, but still get good meat), and I can’t cook or do much of anything for myself. Relying on other people to do things is certainly acceptable, but not for every single little fucking thing. Compounding this whole clusterfuck even further is the fact that I randomly started experiencing seizures a few years ago. I’m on medication, but of course, it hasn’t stopped any of the worrying.

There is, believe it or not, a (slightly) easy fix to all of this patheticity (is that even a word?), and that is a training center. There are lots of them, but only three worth going to. One is in Minnesota, one is in Colorado, and the last one is in Louisiana. Minnesota is the closest to me, and that’s something like 19 hours by car. But, if you’ve been following this so far, you surely understand what’s up – 19 hours is WAY TOO FUCKING FAR, say the parentals.

If I had my way, I’d finish out freshman year (ends in May), take 7 months off of college (May till December), get trained at this center, and come back in January ready to roll. But of course, that isn’t happening because I’m not able to get to the center.

A lot of people (especially on here) say things like, “I feel useless.” And that’s a shitty way to feel – especially if it actually holds true. For me, it’s quite literally true. Something like a week ago I posted something wondering why I felt depressed even though I’ve never experienced anything truly tragic. I’ve figured it out – it’s because I feel useless, and I can’t do jack shit about it. I have no idea where to go from here. I have no idea what to do.