Tags: progress


Living my real personality and feelings

I woke up on cloud nine today. I've been working on things in my life from a different angle and it seems to be helping my happiness a lot.

I went about the little things at the house, and then I went over to pick up my glasses which they let me know are ready.

There is a lot of backstory with this glasses place, and me getting glasses in general. The only key elements needed to understand today's experience are:

There is a man who works there as an optician, a woman who works there as an optician, and a man who is an optometrist. In 90% of encounters, the opticians are the ones manning the store and dealing with customers. Most often, the optometrist is not even there.

I have already dealt with these people over and over again in an effort to make me a pair of glasses (or two) that I can see *better* out of.

So. I go in today and I am hoping that the woman optician is there bc the man has convinced me he is trying to impersonate an actual moron in order to slyly shirk doing a single bit of work in his life. I don't know who he is fucking to hold that position despite his constant him-ness, but somehow, they haven't strung him up in a tree somewhere for being a traitor to normal human cooperative strategies.

The man is behind the desk and the woman has gloves on and has decided to polish or scrub at some spot on the floor. Clearly, the politics are such that she is trying to force him to attend to *anything* under the pretense of being busy with something else. Maybe she is dating him and believes some bullshit story that he has crippling shyness or something. I don't know.

The guy, we'll call him "Tom" since that's his actual name and who am I trying to protect here, gets me my reading glasses and progressives out of the little tray. I try on the reading glasses and they are strong. Very strong. And I decide that's okay for now because I would probably rather have them too strong for reading than too weak. In other words, I decide to trust the powwow the other day with the optometrist, take them home, and hope for the best. My only comment is "they're strong, but that's okay."

Then, I try on the progressives.

Backstory-- I had ordered progressives in this exact same prescription from them, but decided to switch to a different pair of frames at the suggestions of the woman optician who had been very helpful about what they could do for me. (Actually, she had said I should not have been encouraged to get the prior frames because the nose shape was not the right width for my nose. She seemed to put this on Tom, no doubt imagining he actually did anything besides sit in the corner when his coworkers weren't in the office.) So, I expect these new progressive glasses to be a wonder of vision for me just like the lenses they'd just had made for me... every time I had tried on the progressives in the previous glasses on two different occasions, it has been like coming back from blindness to look around the room and see things in focus. Between that and the recheck with the optometrist for the strength of the readers, there was reason to believe the glasses issues were all sorted out.


I reported that I could not see clearly in them. Instead of responding to my issue in any way, Tom the sly moron said the woman's name to handle me. (This guy has worked here for years, btw). Seriously irked, the woman said she had to go wash her hands first bc she'd been cleaning the floor. She started taking a hard line with me that, basically, I would need to try and adapt to them for two weeks before the store would try to redo them. I kept speaking up for myself. I explained how the previous progressives I had been able to drive home with them on, they worked great and it was immediately obvious. If this was the same prescription why couldn't I see anything clearly through them? We went back and forth and I wound up in tears. Not because of her hurtful and triggering blame-the-innocent-bystander stance, but because I have been waiting for MONTHS to see, and I'd been teased with clear long distance sight a month ago, only to have this fall through anyway.

I felt embarrassed and triggered. I about blew a vein in my head racking my brain with how this had happened. Finally, I remembered that the woman had unexpectedly called in sick one of the days, and that was the day Tom had measured where to put the dots on the lenses to have my glasses made the second time. Sure enough, I tilted the frames down so I was peering along the very top edge of the lens and suddenly the sliver of world I could see came right into focus!

I said so to the woman. She immediately came over, and without more than a two second look at where my pupil was in the lenses, she said, "these are 4mm above where they should be, and substantially off center". Without another bullshit word about how I needed to come back in two weeks, she said they'd redo the lenses right away. She also said in passing how, "Tom must have been sitting higher than you when he marked the glasses or something, these things can happen." !!! It is a point I should've said out loud, since we were both in his hearing, that I had already discovered what a charlatan/conniving moron Tom is, and so, stuck with him unexpectedly on that day, I had specifically asked him to do the measurement TWICE just to make sure! The only feasible conclusion for this is that TOM has no idea how to do ANY optician stuff!!!

Oh ya, and during the time where I was in tears and the woman hadn't finished washing her hands, (I suspect he just plays this persona as a weird, mentally disordered role) "tone deaf Tom" pushes a glasses case at me and then said, "here's your free glasses cloth!" His high voiced cheer was as if nothing were going on at all! His tone of voice was like he expected me to pat him on the head and tell him he did good and could go now, instead of responding to any of my concerns.

During the time I was trying to convince the woman that I was not preying on them for free remakes on my glasses over and over (as if that could be a thing) I had walked outside and then walked back inside the store because she'd been telling me to look long distances. When I came back in that last time, I forgot to put my mask back up, and I was gushing on about how I was 100% sure that the glasses were not working and how it seemed like the short and mid distances were in the wrong spots (a clue that the damn lense dots had been off center as i was about to find out), and after me rushing on about it for a minute she asked me to please put on my mask.

I immediately felt incredibly ashamed and caught off guard for having made such a social error. It piled onto the mounting triggers.
Being discounted by the woman in the first place was a childhood trigger for me. Her coldness when I started having tears burning from my eyes was also exactly the same as that withholding sense of being a child punished for my feelings. It was no surprise that when I was eventually proven not a malingerer, instead of pushing my luck and asserting that Tom needs to be trained properly, I apologized profusely, over and over again, and gushed relievedly as I walked out about how I was just so grateful the prescription was not wrong after all, just the position it had been made in in the lens.

This entry is important to me because today, I handled that situation just exactly like I would've as a pre-trauma tween me who was raised in a dysfunctional home and still trying my best to still be me. I got highly emotional and tearful with disappointment and feeling misunderstood/betrayed by this establishment. I got very verbal and communicative in order to try and resource a way to show my experience/perspective was legit, even in the face of ppl trying to shut me down and get me out of there. I did not call out the actual negligent party. I became very apologetic at the slightest hint that I did something wrong, when in fact, not once has anyone there apologized to me for the VAST FUCKING AMOUNTS of rigamarole I've already had to go through and I'm still trying to get a pair of glasses from them that I've already paid for(!!). And I went roaring back the other way emotionally with an exaggerated "allowed" feeling at the end, spouting relief at the fact that (at least they hadn't succeeded in sending me off,) and so I can now hold hopes that they will fix my glasses this time.

I acted like a tween me, but it's a good thing. In the past, I'd be furious at myself for letting a situation like this reduce me to being a doormat. Instead, I came home and cried to Tony about it, but I did not condemn myself. I see that I am giving myself permission to be where I am honestly at, INCLUDING being triggered into a bullied child space. I am also seeing that for all I didn't call anyone out, I still stuck to my guns and am getting my fucking fucking fucking glasses made right. It wasn't a great experience, but I still feel like being myself there today is a sign of something good shifting in me. I was vulnerable and that was draining among uncaring/damaged strangers, but it didn't stop me from being myself the rest of the day. In the past, something like this would've either raged me out or shut me down. Instead, I took some time, and then went on my errands.

As it happens, the simple kindness of the store clerk at the errand I went to next, restored a lot of my faith in ppl not all being totally useless wastes of space like Tom most definitely is.


I fell down in the park yesterday while with my sister and her dog. It was in front of a lot of ppl. It was embarrassing bc I have this thing where my sharp pain threshold is remarkably low. My knee hit the rocky edge of the pathway and then I tumbled off the path, and I was nauseated and light-headed, definitely too paralyzed to get up for like 5 or 10 minutes. The pain in my knee and hip was blinding white pain. To my credit, I immediately realized I did NOT want to make a scene. My hair was down covering my face, and I just gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut throughout the waves, but I did NOT make a sound. One time in the past, I got hit in the nose with a car door and I cried out really loudly like I had been shot or something. I still feel ashamed over that. I did NOT make a noise this time, but it still caused a scene bc I could not get up until the nausea and faintness passed. I am super sore and I got mud and blood all over my favorite jeans.