Jane Muir
Deaf
In the supermarket, people glide on socks, peacefully, skating round a silent rink, I have this sense of being adrift
family friends well-meaning a muffled babble of words – my brain fills in the gaps yes – speech rhythms are important as contextual clues
but this sense of being adrift
best thing about a hearing aid is hearing the birds sing again
the worst is
everything
is muffled, I hear my own heart
feedback: whistling on three notes – almost easier not to hear anything at all sense of being adrift
soundless violinists look absurd piano is a wooden clatter especially if far up the scale
in dreams the volume is turned up – I relish sleep
socially isolating
the theft of intimacy the worst
sense of being adrift
I admit just ignore the softly spoken a raised voice comes across as anger all the time
‘sorry, pardon, I didn’t quite catch…?’
frustration – anger not sadness
just this sense of being adrift