Thursday, July 24, 2008

Zapping out laser beams Cyclops-style from my mutant eyes of destruction

So today I went to get my eyes checked and pick out some new glasses.

My new Vera Wang frames model V147

Ah ... the state of my old pair could fill a book with its adventures. It all began three years ago ...

"Oooh I like this pair!" I say as I take off a trendy thick black frame.

"Hmmm ... I dunno ... They look similar to your last pair. I like the other pair so I think you should get them." Says the guy I was dating at the time. He holds the other pair in his hands. They're pretty basic, black with a clear inside lining.

"Sigh ... Let me try them on again." I put the ones he prefers on. They fit nice but aren't what I was looking for. "I wish they were fully black like the other pair. I really like those."

"Hey, they probably sell these pair in a solid black." I hand him the glasses and he goes to ask the ladies if the pair he prefers comes in solid black. They don't like him and his stern adamant nature, which he showed them - from arranging my eye appointment to getting there and checking me in. So the ladies basically say yes even though they could produce no catalogue to point out that they do indeed come in solid black. I picked up on this, but I don't fight the unstoppable machine that is him though. I was weaker back then.

"See sweets, they come in all black." His posture and expression speak 'these are the pair I like on you and I want you to get them.' I meekly give in because I want him to be happy.

"Okay, but how soon will I be able to get the solid black pair? I need something right away." The secretaries tell me they have no solid black pair in stock and that it will take a number of weeks to order in. I was a little peeved over it all. I needed new glasses right away being as to how I could not see with the pair I currently had.

"Can she get a substitute frame until her frames come in? She really needs to see." Oh how I wanted to say forget it, let's just get the other pair - the frames I want. Instead after a few minutes of scuffling with the already peeved secretaries I pick out some maroon frames that are of the same style as the ones he liked and pay my fees. The red frames were cool though, cooler than I thought, albeit a little larger than I would like (they would fall off a lot).

The ordered frames were nowhere in sight. Two weeks went by and nothing happened. So he called, scuffle, nothing. Soon it was time for me to head back to school in Canada with him, since he was only in Bermuda on vacation. So more phone calls, scuffles and the day of when I am to leave "yea the glasses are ready." Those secretaries really wanted to punish me for inflicting them with him, although they weren't very helpful or professional to begin with. So I get the frames and lo and behold, they are not solid black, they were the very pair I tried on from the get go, slightly brown and totally not what I wanted. At least they were smaller, but I liked those red ones. I wanted to say that I wanted to keep the red ones, but again I said nothing because he put in so much fight to get those frames.

Later on I suspected that maybe he wanted me to get those frames because they were the cheaper of the two. I know they looked decent on me, so he paid attention to that, but I know he didn't want me spending all my money on glasses. Instead he wanted me to focus my money on us, even though it was money my mom gave me for school, not for a boyfriend. We had some issues in that area and I never spoke up about it.

Years later I halted getting my eyes checked and picking up new frames, even when my frames were scuffed up and beat up to the point where they were held together by black duck tape; scratched lenses; peeling plastic. In addition, my eyes became a little weaker and needed stronger lenses - ones that would make my world a little sharper and elevate my eyes from the slighty blurry fog it was slowly descending into (and my night vision sucked sucked sucked. Zombies NEED night vision).

The whole experience three years ago left me powerfully mortified. I did not go back to the vision centre because it was a reminder of my failure to stand up for myself over risking the anger and disagreement of someone I cared about. I was whipped, emotionally and physically. It seems so trite and domestic when I reread all of this, but at the time I felt so frustrated and confused and powerless. It wasn't as if I couldn't do anything and didn't try to on numerous occasions, but to have been coddled and deconstructed for so long that when you do try to break away it is so weak and pathetic and that those that hold you down use it as evidence as to why you need them. In your mind's eye you see your terrible stake at independence and hold it as proof as to why you can't function in life without him. Not only were my eyes in a fog, but so was my view on life. I went on to endure two more years of that fog until I couldn't take it anymore.

Four years of fog is a lot and I am clearing it all away, making my stand not just for independence but self reliance. I'll always be dependent on others for something, but I'll never be dependent on others to live my life for me because I let myself stumble into thinking I am not strong enough to do so for myself.

So I went somewhere new, and they turned out to be more professional with better glasses and better staff. I have new frames on the way, very feline Vera Wang frames of the style I wanted to get sooo long ago, and I feel very happy.

As soon as I get my paws on em', these old frames of mines are getting a good and proper burial at sea in a shoe box tied to drift wood with a eulogy and everything. I don't ever want to see them again.

1 comment:

Shel said...

all you had to do was take off those old glasses in order to see things a little better.