Legally blind? What do you see?
7% of what ever you see except it's in 1/10th a second then it is a distorted blur and it's super bright.
Were you born visually impaired?
No, I became legally blind Feb 8th 2019
How did this happen?
I had a migraine that lasted too long, it slowed blood flow to my brain leaving a scar.
Did anything else happen from the scar?
I stuttered, couldn't balance and my left side was weakened but I was able to overcome those things through exercise and hard work at therapy. A rough day can bring total loss of sight and all my work does not show so I've had to learn to pace myself and take my time, pushing will result in depleted everything.
Aren't you afraid?
Afraid of what? Sometimes I'm afraid of nothing because what worse could happen? Sometimes I'm afraid of people, their misunderstanding causes them to like to say and do hurtful things.
What was it like at first?
Hell... It was like hell but I wasn't going to take hell for an answer for the rest of my life.
What WAS the worst thing?
Hell was the worst thing. Hell is losing people you love and believe in, people you trusted and supported, hell is thinking in time they will return. Hell is trusting new people when you've been hurt by the people you trusted.
What was the best thing?
Learning who has my back and whole heartedly support me in good moments and bad. Learning new things meeting new people with different stories. Seeing humanity in a new light.
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YDE - Stopped Buying Diamonds comics painting on paper with glitters Size: 14.8cm x 21cm #yde #stoppedbuyingdiamonds #blindlife #comics #glitters
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Time Travel is my favourite trope and I think we need more fics where both Obi-Wan AND Qui-Gon time travel together because no matter when they get sent it's chaos. They're saving the galaxy and being physic flash-bangs to everyone around them.
like before Bandomeer?
The entire council is baffled to watch as Qui-Gon 'never taking a padawan again' Jinn has suddenly cut off his post-Xanatos depression tour to return to the temple and beeline to the creche with a frantic energy. His wild eyes immediately single out a fluffy, red-haired initiate.
"You." he exhales with a pointed finger, slightly ominous as he towers over the child. Said child starts vibrating with delight. "Me." he agrees, launching himself at the man. Qui-Gon drops to his knees with a thud that cannot be healthy. Obi-Wan's attempts to clamber into Qui-Gon's robes and maybe onto his shoulders is thwarted by the fact that Qui-Gon's massive hands are cupping Obi-Wan's tiny squishy cheeks. He stares at the initiate for a few minutes with an intensity that is starting to worry people.
Finally, "You're so small." Qui-Gon sounds like he might cry.
'What the fuck?' Plo Koon projects at Mace.
"I'm 9! That tends to be the case!" the child chirps back.
"You're nine." Oh. Ah. Qui-Gon's eyes are distinctively misty. He squishes the boy in a hug so hard he squeaks. Mace makes a series of gestures that imply the need for a head-scan. Depa obligingly drifts off towards the halls. Qui-Gon scoops the child up onto his hip and claims him as his padawan on the spot. The assorted council members and creche-masters burst into noise. Mace tells Depa to bring some space ibuprofen as well.
after Naboo?
Anakin is a little apprehensive of his place in both the order and Obi-Wan's life, but then one day Obi-Wan wakes up and is suddenly a lot less sad in the force?? In fact, if Anakin didn't know better he'd say he was almost giddy, but he's watched Obi-Wan try to pretend his world hasn't fallen apart for the past few months so it can't be that, right? And um, Miss Bant? He knows grief is a funny thing that affects people differently but he's pretty sure 'massive mood swing' and 'having full conversations with invisible people' is not...great? and you said to tell you if Obi-Wan got really weird in any way.
Anyway after a lot of medical exams, intense consultation with the archives, and a couple exorcisms, Anakin ends up being raised by his 'real' master and his ghost master. He is far more well adjusted emotionally and far less well adjusted for what counts as normal people behavior(not talking to thin air). When questioned on this, all he ever says is that he's talking to Qui-Gon. Isn't he...dead? Well, yes. Wait, he's a ghost? Ghosts are real? ...Well this ghost is real.
This starts a great number of existential crises among non-force sensitives and incredibly heated theological arguments amongst the Jedi. Whenever Obi-Wan is questioned on this, all he ever says is some variation of "the force got to know him for 5 seconds and kicked him back out." Mace backs him up on this even though that reasoning is technically blasphemous. Qui-Gon is having the time of his un-life. He's ascended to his final form, his sheer existence is a heresy, this is truly all he has ever aspired towards.
the Clone Wars?
The minute they get dropped back Qui-Gon immediately goes and haunts the shit out of Dooku. They have a signed terms of surrender and promise of info on the Sith Lord within the year. Only half of it is because Qui-Gon's giving Dooku complexes that are only perceptible to shrimp, the other half is because they now have a ghost spy that is not bound by the laws of physics nor spacetime.
Obi-Wan only nominally pays attention to this as he immediately goes and implements his 19 step seduction plan with Cody (he had to focus on something on Tatooine to pass the time). It fails. Spectacularly. Publicly. Ah right. Tatooine was not exactly the height of his sanity. Everyone in the GAR and temple is now riveted by High General and Councilor Obi-Wan Kenobi's attempts to go on a date with his Commander, who bats him away him like a particularly annoying stray and seems one bouquet of cactus away from committing mutiny. Anakin is worrying if it means his master knows about his secret marriage and this is some sort of really weird power play. (It is, but not in the way he thinks)
The next time Dooku goes after Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon spends a good few months appearing tear-stained at the edge of Dooku's perception and only communicating in terrible wails and discordant mutterings of 'padawan. my padawan. my little one.' 24/7.
"Wait, you're annoying Dooku into surrendering?"
"Oh no Anakin, we're crushing his psyche like a bug. :)"
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Imagine you are Lady Jessica. You’re bred and trained all your life to help create the prophesied “savior” of the world. In a mix of your own pride and love for the child’s father, you bear that savior. But it’s too early. Those who trained you say he is not the one. And because of it he’s in danger. You then must travel to a place that only wants to kill you, and nearly succeeds in the process. The only way to live, the only way your son lives, is to ensure that the prophecy becomes true. That your son really is that savior. So you do, you make it true, because it has to be true. You force fate. He doesn’t die. Hundreds die. Then thousands. Now millions. Your son is not only alive, but the emperor of the known universe. Worshiped like a god because you made him a god, and did it so well you convinced yourself of his divinity, his prophecy. He is near mad with every possible future laid before him, regrets and blood stain his hands. But he is alive. Wasn’t it all worth it? Was it?
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the thing about victor frankenstein is that, aside from the deeply unpleasant but distressingly period-typical views about women and his polar exploration sunk-cost fallacy attitude, he's not even really an outstandingly bad individual. spending two years trying to make a whole person with no solid plan for what to then Do with this person is an extremely extremely bad idea, but after that all his reactions to stress and tragedy are fairly common and natural. avoidance, depression, decision paralysis, secret keeping, etc., these are very normal trauma responses. they are just literally all of the very worst responses he could possibly have had given his particular situation.
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the thing is. you are dick grayson and eight years old, and your parents’ deaths are a spectacle. then, you are dick grayson, with many more years behind you, and the unveiling of your identity is a spectacle. you are a flying grayson, the last of the flying graysons, and so your own death, too, is made a spectacle.
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