FINALLY, nearly three years after the issue hit boiling point and my first pair of glasses disintegrated and having found a pair on the pavement three minutes from Valium Marilyn's house and that pair having disintegrated so badly the donkers look like they're doing the splits and both lenses pop out freely when I'm trying to cross the road, I got it together not only to make a sight test appointment but to order in TWO new pairs of glasses at $100 each (two for one special deal; £69 the pair and thirty-something pounds off thanks to a Government Voucher so I pay £33 and get two new pairs of glasses. And from the 2nd of July onwards I'll finally be able to see!
The kindly Indian testing my eyes said that with the new lenses intact my vision is as sharp as human vision can go. I was able to read the very bottom line of print, which seemed readily to surprise him.
I begged him not to give out an over-powerful prescription: one optician once did and I spent the next six months being astonished by jutting angles jumping out, everything in 4D, ultra sharp and scarily detailed. He said no that's fine, you don't need a prescription for your slight astigmatism.
Then the horror of choosing my own spectacles ensued. The school leaver who processed my forms looked like she was trying not to laugh whenever I picked up a pair of frames, glanced at my gruesome refelction for the shortest possible interval and grimaced. Then a really stern Indian girl took up position and kept asking if she could help me. I think she was convinced I was into shoplifting the empty frames, which is a useless thing to do. I remember meeting a nutter in NA who wore a pair of very obvious show frames with POLICE in the lower lefthand lens. I do believe POLICE used to make "designer" glasses. But I do believe also it's pretty bad form to walk the streets wearing the plastic lenses they come in on the spinner. Everyone kept a straight face. This is the one who "relapsed" on zopiclone sleeping tablets and within days was back on the heroin and crack. And that's why I take NA's philosophies with a pinch of salt. If I'm a heroin addict who can't sleep, I don't believe I'm "using" when I take a presription sleeping pill at the recommended dosage, and I will not be brainwashed into believing that medicating my mental state is the same as using heroin. But hey.
Anyway... the first frames I looked at were the £100/$160 ones in science glasses style. Black at the top; just bare lenses underneath. A third girl, who seemed less anxious than "can I help you" but more scared than the school leaver said to me, "if you had these really you'd need our special lens thinning technology" and how much is that? I asked. "Only" another £40 ~ that's $60 ~ extra. So those went back on the shelf.
Then I found a pair in bronze in the same general style but fully enclosed in metal, and I kept putting them on then taking them off, then trying the same ones in silver. But I did look like a Danish serial killer. Other frames made me appear variously like a Slovakian double-murderer, a Bulgarian child molester and a German exchange student with Delusional Disorder. I think the pairs I picked make me look like a deranged axe-murderer. Or more to the point, like a deranged axe-murderer wearing glasses. The ation of looking in the mirror was so traumatic that 20 frames into this process I just wanted to up and run. Oh yeah and the girl said you're not allowed to put down a part deposit: all spexx must be paid for in full before you're allowed to order them. As far as I understand it, my luxury glasses shall be ready the Sunday or Monday after next. I do believe she said July 2. So I'm scuttling around between now and then like a myopic roborovski with a surprised look on its face.
I went to see my friend Paddster afterwards and either I'm paranoid or he was treating me like I was mentally deranged. The doctor at the methadone clinic asked me whether I thought I was manic the other day which did my head in. I thought, on balance, that I was in a "normal" mood. That is, if you averaged out the peaks and valleys of the day the intervening line would be pretty rasonable. Not that I was in any way on a flatline. Who knows maybe she was just winding me up by asking me that. I thought manic people were meant to gesticulate a lot and I don't think I was doing that. It has been pointed out to me that I jump from one topic to the next with nary a rhyme nor reason as to where I'm going (unless I consciously rein myself in) but that's my ordinary thought process. It only goes truly off the wall when I'm truly hyper. I have to say my head has been jumping with alien thoughts in massive quantities, y'know, kind of like I'm tuned into Radio Gaga again, but that's pretty normal too. I quite like it when they get very bizarre. It's free entertainment for all the family!
My new drugs worker seemed to think rehab was a really good idea. I didn't tread into Truthfulness Territory ~ giving my real opinions on those places. That they are run for the convenience of the staff. That most people are only there to avoid prison. Etc etc.
Oh yeah and they seemed very surprised that I only tested positive for heroin and methadone and was vehemently against hashish, cocaine, speed and the reat ~ in thought as well as deed. Only teenagers (or really withered old speed-freaks) use speed in this country. Crack is lousy stuff. And frankly I'm offended that anyone would even ask me about cannabis. I last bought cannabis when hash was the norm: ie before the trend for premium grass came in in 1993/1994. Yes I have been stupid enough to have the odd toke between now and then but I've regretted it more and more and more each time. Last time I smoked grass I picked up a dropped spliff at a bus stop. Believing it to be a roll-up cigarette I puffed away until the grotesque smell of skunk stoppered up my lungs. Even the tiny quantity inhaled offended my brain and I went into a peculiar mindstate. Why on earth anybody smokes that crap is beyond me.
The workers at these clinics seem to know nothing about drugs. If they did they wouldn't be surprised to see someone steadily fall apart the longer he's off drugs. That's the meaning of self-medication. When you're on the medicine you're better. When you're without it, you're all over the place. I only use that phrase "self-medicating" beause the drug-clinic drummed it into me (then offered no alternative medication, I noticed!) Something in me seems to have changed and opiates no longer have the effect they once did, which is why I'm steeling myself for a life solely on the gloop. Next week I start a gradual gloop reduction and I can't wait. Once the dose gets to 30mg or below, which will take weeks to achieve, I can consider switching over to Subutex or Suboxone. My friend Paddadadster recently went back on that, having singularly failed to handle life on nothing at all. He's expecting to stay on it till he dies.
Well I was supposed to be focusing on positive things. I feel a lot better in general than I did last week. I still don't know where I'm going or what will become of me in the future. I don't know how to survive. If I am going to be moving house I want to get the move over and done with as quickly as humanly possible. Deshane says three or four weeks. I am holding on till then. No shiba-inus today... I have to run. Take care y'all..!
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