Unlearning how to walk

Today, at the beach, Alannah was doing a great job of slopping jellyfish into her bucket, but she wanted someone to hunt them out with. By the time the water was half-way up to my knees, I knew I was in strife. The tide had just ebbed, but the tug was negligible. It was the sloshing more than anything. Not the noise, but the impermanence of the surface. I did not fall, but it took all my effort to remain upright, and to head for the sand. It left an indelible impression from which I am still suffering 12 hours later. An immense weariness, and insecurity.

I suffer from bilateral vestibulopathy.
I suffer from cerebral ataxia.
I suffer from peripheral neuropathy. But, I am wise enough to wear a pair of reef shoes.
But, I shall probably not go into the water again, unless it is dire, and even then, I know I will be unable to assist.

Just this week I found some posters on the Ataxia (UK) site that reinforced something I had been trying to explain in my own amateurish way back in April this year. A graphic artist developed this series of posters to explain the vision proplems that ataxia suffers endure. I include four of them here: I watch Juliet, as she wobbles across the floor, and know how she feels.

Addendum
I have been thinking about these graphic representations of my declining sight. What I see -or don't see - is not what YOU see here. I do not see colours, nor do I see part of the image displaced in this way. The part of the image that is displaced is just gone - empty. It doesn't sit out there. It is just gone. I do not get the whole picture, there are lateral fingers that have been removed. Say, for instance, that I am looking for my phone. Unless my head is totally still - TOTALLY - I do not get information. When looking for something, one "sweeps" the landscape, yes? This just means that the lateral fingers of missing image are constantly moving. Hence, I have visual information deficit, AND my head gets very confused, causing me to fall or clutch for something to steady it all.