My eyes work continuously with my brain trying to decipher the colors of what I'm seeing without ever truly knowing how. The process is continuous and cyclical. Within the midst of this confusion, the yellow chandelier lights cast shadows that ought to be black, but when cast on my skin, my disorder makes this black for the multitudes of indiscernible brown that camouflage the room, and when my brain is told that there is a brown shape on my skin it assumes there is something other than a shadow there, something sitting or crawling. I flinch. I feel uncomfortable. I feel a bit embarrassed. And after I've scanned the room to see if anyone had caught me, only then can I refocus my attention on what I was doing.
Jake Cooper
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