After a meth-induced psychosis left her permanently blind, Kaylee Muthart is living proof that even life’s darkest moments can spark a brighter future.
In February 2018, Kaylee Muthart’s world went dark—literally. At just 20 years old, a methamphetamine-induced psychotic episode led her to commit an unthinkable act: gouging out her own eyes in a desperate bid to “save the world.” Now 26 and permanently blind, Muthart is not only surviving but thriving, claiming she’s happier without her sight than she ever was with it.
“Of course, there are times when I get really upset about my situation, particularly on nights when I can’t fall asleep,” Muthart admitted in an interview with The Daily Mail. “But truthfully, I’m happier now than I was before all this happened. I’d rather be blind than dependent on drugs.”
It’s an astounding perspective for someone whose story reads like the script of a cautionary horror movie. Once an honor student in Anderson, South Carolina, Muthart’s descent began when she unknowingly smoked a joint laced with meth at 19. The drug hooked her immediately, and within a year, she’d graduated from smoking to injecting.
At her lowest, meth provided an escape—and what she describes as a sense of spiritual connection. “The high made me feel closer to God,” she explained. But that connection came at a terrifying cost.
On February 6, 2018, Muthart—high on an especially large dose of tainted meth—fell into a delusion so powerful it seemed real. She believed the world had turned “upside down” and needed a sacrificial act to set it right. That act, she decided, was to give up her own eyes.
What followed defies belief. Sitting outside South Main Chapel and Mercy Center, she prayed fervently before pressing her fingers into her own eyes and wrenching them free. “I gripped each eyeball, twisted, and pulled until each eye popped out of the socket,” she recounted. “It felt like the hardest thing I ever had to do.”
The scene was as harrowing as it sounds. The church pastor found her screaming, “I want to see the light,” while holding her eyeballs in her hands. Police had to subdue her before she was airlifted to a trauma unit, where doctors worked to clean her wounds and stave off infection.
The ordeal, as horrific as it was, became the turning point Muthart needed to abandon drugs for good. She entered rehab immediately and has spent the past six years piecing her life back together.
Today, Muthart wears prosthetic eyes—fitted in 2020 to help her feel more comfortable in public—and works hard to stay optimistic. She’s rediscovered activities she loved, like playing guitar and piano, albeit with new challenges. And she’s learned to laugh at the small frustrations blindness brings. “When I stub my toe or knee, I think, ‘Well, it probably saved me from walking into a wall and hitting my face.’”
Her journey is nothing short of remarkable, a testament to resilience and redemption. “I remember how low I was back then,” she reflects. “Blindness might be tough, but it’s nothing compared to the darkness of addiction.”
Muthart’s story serves as both a cautionary tale and a beacon of hope: a reminder that even in the aftermath of unimaginable tragedy, there’s still light to be found.