2 Feet, 4 Paws & 1 God

I went to a normal school where I was ridiculed because I was the kid with specs like jam jars and because my eyes moved in funny ways.

My whole childhood was dogged by constant ridicule about my poor sight.

I am not trying to tell you that I had an unhappy childhood because by and large I did not. I am saying that my poor vision was so bad that it became a source of embarrassment to me. So much so that I began to hide it as best I could which meant that I did not always get the help and support I needed.
I refused to sit near the blackboard where I needed to be, as this would draw attention to me.

I stopped wearing my glasses for the same reason.
By the time I left school my consultant wanted me to register as partially sighted.

I refused point blank; I would not be moved and spent over 20 years trying to hide the problem.
I memorised everything from the news to bus times and phone numbers so that no one would know. I used to listen to the newspaper review in the morning on Radio 4 and memorise the stories so that if I was in the pub in the evening with my mates, I could join in the conversation about the articles they had read in the papers as if I had read the same article myself.

I have to tell you that I now know that this behaviour is typical of many people with poor sight.

By the time I reached 40 I could not walk down a street without crashing in to someone or something and so I was forced to take action.

It hurt more than anything has ever hurt me; it felt like giving in, I thought the whole world was laughing at me and making remarks behind my back. This type of paranoia is typical of many visually impaired people.

I registered as partially sighted in 2000.
In December 2001 I got Abbot, my first guide dog who has helped me, not only as a guide, he has helped me come to terms with my blindness, to be at ease with it and I owe him my life. He has changed my life forever and now I regret not having done it sooner.

I’m now with Jarvis, guide dog number two.

In 2004 I was registered blind.

However, I am a stubborn man, full of foolish pride and if I had to be completely honest with you, if I had to do it all again I would still spend years trying to hide it. Years where I simply ran away.

Visual impairment is a kick in the self-esteem and few of us want to face it.

It’s painful and it’s often easier to simply pretend it’s not happening. In the last few years I have talked to hundreds of people with failing sight and this experience is typical. Almost all of us have developed strategies to prevent you from knowing the severity of our visual impairment.