This post is from fellow multi-genre author and good friend, Mark Carlson.

Is a Blind Person Afraid of the Dark?

 

As  a kid I was, like a lot of kids, afraid of the dark. I used to have a lamp on the dresser in my bedroom that I kept on all night. It was definitely a product of the 1960s, very modern and made of orange plastic and about the size of a football.  That light was as much a talisman against the demons of the night as a practical way of finding the door and bathroom in the dark. I could never sleep without that light on all night, and Mom knew it.

But one night, I guess I was about twelve or so, I remember thinking, “It’s too bright in here. I’ll try turning off the light.”

So I did. It was easier than I would have thought, and just like that I fell asleep in total darkness. For the rest of my life I slept soundly in the dark. In fact, any light at all sort of bothered me. If there was light in the hallway outside my room there was a strip of light under the door, and that actually bothered me. Over the years I came to realize that I preferred it to be totally dark at night. I kept my curtains close to keep the Moonlight or the pale glow from the street from interfering with my sleep.

 

Now, decades after turning off that tacky orange light, I still sleep in darkness. But the reason is different. I have no choice. I am totally blind, and every night is as black as pitch. And so is every day, even at high noon. I live in perpetual darkness, with no more light entering my eyes than if I was in a stygian black coal mine. It took some time, at least a decade, to get used to the world growing dimmer and less distinct every day, and of the slowly encroaching and permanent night. So I sleep in the dark all the time, even if I take a nap in the middle of the afternoon.

It does get kind of weird, as when I know there is a light left on somewhere in the house. Perhaps I had a friend over for the evening and forgot to turn it off. It’s funny, but since I never turn on any lights in my home for my own benefit, I have to do it for my sighted friends. As I like to say, “You sighted people are slaves to light.”

 

When out and about, I am more comfortable at night, even more so than when I had sight. I feel safer, somehow, as though the cloak of darkness envelops me in a shroud of invisibility. I know that is silly, but its true. Since I don’t depend on my eyes to perceive the world around me, I can do in the dark what most people need light to do.

In other words, I see perfectly in the dark.

 

But there is a downside to being blind. I still have a fear of the dark. Even in my sixties, grown up and all, independent and logical, And knowing full well there is nothing in the  dark that wasn’t there in the day, I sometimes find it hard to sleep. I can close my eyes and open them, with absolutely no difference between the two states. I know what is in my bedroom and house, and in a pinch, can get up and go wherever I need to go with total confidence and safety. I am talking about sleeping in the dark. That is when the dreams take over.

I have very vivid and realistic dreams. I dream in color with almost total recall of what I dreamed. Every sound, smell, taste, touch and of course sight is clear and detailed. In my dreams I am totally sighted. But since so many of my dreams involve some of my hidden phobias, I can’t prevent them from visiting me in the night.  Everyone has phobias and fears. Some people are afraid of heights, or being in crowds. I occasionally have dreams of falling, being barefoot or even naked in public but Those are hardly worth calling nightmares. No, I have some long-standing fears that can’t be ignored.

I am claustrophobic. I don’t fear being in an enclosed space like an elevator, but in being in a tight spaced where I cant move my arms, like in an MRI scanner or even in an overly tight coat terrifies me. If I have a dream where I am suddenly caught and confined I will wake up shaking and petrified. I can’t get enough air in my lungs and have to stand and walk around, waiving my arms and taking deep breaths of air. I sometimes go out onto my porch to feel the night breeze and sense the open space around me. the dreams are enough to make me afraid to go back to bed. I can’t do anything to distract myself. I will often talk to myself or listen to a book or song on Alexa to get my mind away from that fear. Trying to use logic never works. Talking oneself out of a primal fear is impossible.  Only time can make it pass. The hell of it is, If I could see, I would be able to exorcise the dream demons, but since my blindness makes the world seem the same whether my eyes are open or not makes it even harder.

When my wife Jane was alive I almost never had those dreams, but now they come once or twice a month. And even having an orange night light won’t keep them away.

So the truth is, yes, a blind person can be afraid of the dark. I guess I have no choice but to live with it. Or I can drink lots and lots and lots of coffee.