You’re not alone . . . Hearing-impaired people have lots of company
March 11, 1998

"I felt alone, like I was the only one.”

Hearing loss has created the largest disability group in the U.S. I would venture to say that those who have accepted their hearing loss, and learned to cope with it, would not consider it so much a disability but a shifting of gears. It’s a case of refocusing ways to communicate effectively.

Don’t get me wrong, most of us would not choose to be hard-of-hearing, especially if we have lost it gradually, over the years, or suddenly due to illness or trauma. If we have done all we can to improve and protect what hearing we own, then we must learn to focus on what we can do not what we cannot.

Imagine this: it is a warm, spring day. You are strolling along and a bright, red cardinal flies above and perches on a branch, above your head. You stop, smile and see the bird warbling a song but realize you can’t hear it.

You move closer, still no sound. The beauty does not cease because you cannot hear the song, it has just changed. Now your eyes are counting the beauty, without your ears. How I love a spring day with its soft breezes, sweet fragrances of early flowers and trees blooming and children racing down the street on their bikes. I see the kites flying high in the schoolyard behind our house and can hear laughter in my imagination. If you really look at the curves of the trees and touch the ragged bark, see the vivid and subtle colors of the sky and flowers, the branches swaying in the breeze, and feel the whoosh as a child rides her bike past you, the beauty is surrounding you. Scents, sights, and touch bring the sounds alive in a new way.

Your grandchild hugs you and whispers, in your ear. You don’t know what she whispered but the softness of the hug lingers on your neck and you whisper back tender words of love. The love for that child is not diminished because you could not hear the words. This is what I call a shifting of gears or focus.

How could a person among 28 million feel alone?
Easy. I did. Most do. You cannot see hearing loss. You can hide it, you can bluff your way through life, you can deny it but most importantly, you can isolate yourself – drop out of life, find yourself alone, find yourself lost and confused thinking there are no answers, there are no solutions.

But you would be wrong. I was wrong. Personally, I got fed up with loneliness and isolation. I wanted to communicate with my friends and family but did not know how to start that journey of discovery. I didn’t know where to buy the ticket or how much it would cost. I was afraid. Many are. I understand and so do many others.

If you have read this far, you may be saying: “Who are these people who understand? How could anyone understand how I feel?”

How could anyone know how it feels to lose friends who don’t want to try to communicate; how it feels to not have the money to buy hearing aids or an amplified phone; how it feels to sit alone night after night, frightened and frustrated trying to think of a solution all alone; how it feels to be left out of conversations or meetings because everyone is mumbling?

The answer is simple but the solutions are up to you.
The people at Hearing Loss Association (formerly SHHH – Self Help for Hard-of-hearing People) understand and care. They understand and most have experienced something very similar to what you are feeling, at this moment. None of them want you to stay alone. They want to help you find the solutions to improve your life, to step forward, to refocus, and to dwell on what you can do.

Many of these same people are still searching for solutions and acceptance. You are not alone. But it is up to you to take the first step, leave your room and “buy a ticket.” Only then can you begin again: grow, learn, accept. Self-help does not have to mean “poor me.” You can choose to have it mean “there is hope, I can learn and I can move on.”

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