Even though my brain has long-since learned to compensate for this, it still manages to impact on my functioning daily.
Take driving, for instance. Since I have a very hard time judging the distance between myself and other cars, I usually drive much further from the person in front of me than I probably have to. That may annoy some people, but at least it's safe. Parking, though, is another story. A spot has to be huge in order for me to try it. "Fortunately" for me, I have a handicapped parking placard, so I can usually find larger spots when I'm out. Usually, but not always. Just today, in fact, I left a parking garage because the spots all seemed micro-sized to me. It was embarrassing, really, to have the parking attendant watch me attempt not one, but two spots before driving away in defeat. "Drive home safe," he told me. I drive fine. I just can't park! Oh, and never, ever ask me to parallel park. I have no idea how I did it for my driving test. Thank God I never have to do it again.
It's not just driving, though. I even have trouble simply walking. I never see little dips in the ground or bumps on the sidewalk. Especially if the color doesn't change. If I had a dollar for every weird step I made into a hole, over a seam in the cement or down a dip at the edge of the sidewalk, I'd have a tidy sum by now. Good thing I have strong bones.
Walking in the dark is an even bigger adventure. The shadows and bits of light trick my eyes into thinking that bumps exist which don't and ones that do exist are even harder to spot. I usually hold on to things, walls, people, to avoid falling on my face.
There have been less important ways I've had my lack of singular binocular vision affect me over the years. I can't catch, throw or hit a ball. Threading a needle can be torture. I also can't see a 3-D movie. Shrug.
I have tried vision therapy at various times. It's really uncomfortable and there's a very slim chance that it will work for someone my age. I had that one doctor fairly recently suggest surgery to correct my eyes, saying it may even help my chronic dizziness. However, he also said it could make things worse as my brain has been used to seeing this way for so long, not to mention the fact that my eyes could just go back the way they were. Nah. I'll just hold on to things and park in big spaces. It's worked out all right so far. And I honestly don't mind missing out on 3-D movies. Or playing ball.
