Hearing With Only One Ear — The Difficulties I Initially Faced
To realize that I’d have to say, “Sorry, can you repeat it?” for the rest of my life was one of the most difficult facts I had to fathom.
I was 19 years old, a sophomore university student, when I started facing more severe hard of hearing issues. It wasn’t out of the blue. Since I was 16, my ears would often be so jammed for days. Like completely dead. I used to think then it would last only for a few days. And I would keep using earbuds with full volume on.
Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that the course of life would change due to my negligence toward my ear issues.
It was the time of quarantine of 2020 when it dawned on me that these few days of jamming weren’t ending. My right ear is almost dead — just murmurs.
My parents would have to shout to address me. My sister thought I was playing another prank.
But it was still not that difficult until my university resumed after the lockdown.
Now I was to meet with my friends and classmates for whom I was the same old person. They would talk to me, and I’d nod my head. Sometimes they’d smile. And sometimes, they’d think I was intentionally ignoring them. With a dead ear, sitting in my classroom, not understanding what the professor was talking about, I’d nod. I’d nervously laugh when I noticed my friends laughing at some joke a fellow student cracked during the class.
It was agitating, isolating, and embarrassing for me.
I’d repeat the most asked question for such terrible situations, “Why me?”
Unfortunately, I am from a country where therapies are still considered luxury — and useless. There are not even easily accessible therapies out there. Faith is considered a web of mental peace, and I was losing my faith. My life seemed to stop, halted at a point.
Faith, the threshold of my mental peace, was on the edge of an abyss. My trust in God was shattered.
I was creating a persona.
Instead of accepting the truth, I remained in the phase of denial. To accommodate myself with others, I’d pretend that I wasn’t actually. I evaded the fact that I’d live this way. I instilled a scaffolding of lies around my existence that “This Is All Temporary.” It was tiring. It was exhausting.
I was running away from my actual self.
I started doubting my relationships.
Initially, nothing was a smooth ride. Somebody’s empathies were irritating me. I was becoming more and more skeptical. I thought they were feeling sorry for me. There was nothing that could console me at that moment. I started seeing my relationships with doubt. I thought we were no longer in the same connection as before my hard-of-hearing issue. To most the extent, it was my own built fear. Maybe others were truly accommodating to me.
Although it was a truth that I was no longer the same person, I didn’t need to be so hard on myself that I doubted others’ sincerity.
And there was much more.
In the bank, I would ask the cashier sitting behind a glass penetration to repeat what she was saying.
Though I often had change, I would pay a thousand rupees note to the conductor because I couldn’t listen when he asked me for the fare.
I would wear a fictitious, cringe-worthy smile when my manager would be angry for not following the instructions he briefed me in the morning.
And the list goes on.
It was never easy to fit in with this new condition. It was awful and difficult because I never had an encounter with someone who was going through the same situation.
Indeed, this new sailing storm wasn’t easy. I couldn’t float on it without others’ help — something I was initially reluctant about.
How did it, and how much effort and willpower it took? That’s another story. I’ll discuss it another day.
If you’re hard of hearing, please be kind to yourself. You’re not alone. Others might be hesitant to help if you don’t embrace yourself wholeheartedly.
It’s okay to feel difficult sometimes but don’t let yourself scatter. Sail on this journey with a firm attitude since you can’t escape it now.
