I will buy that you need to know what anti-depressant meds I'm on because they can affect my eyes.
That said, it is NONE OF YOUR MOTHERFUCKING BUSINESS why I am taking them. You asked three times why 'a girl like you is depressed', and got quite frustrated when I repeatedly told you I'm not depressed because I'm on the tablets.
It was also totally unneccessary to read out the (very long) list of side effects associated with my meds. I know what the side effects are, fuck weasel, I suffer from most of them. I'm not going to explain to you why I still take my meds anyway, because it is none of your fucking business, and certainly not your job to weigh up whether the symptoms of severe depression 'can't be as bad as' dizziness, night sweats and anorexia (I'm 16 stone. Trust me when I say the latter is not an issue for me!)
Finally, once you'd tested my eyes and adjusted my prescription you asked me whether I was 'ecstatic' with the results, and then said 'oh no, you can't be, because you're on anti depressants.' Funnily enough, I can experience all sorts of emotions whilst on anti-depressants. Ecstasy is one of them, and so is rage.
All in all, your comments on my mental health were totally inappropriate and unwelcome. I am fortunate enough to have a fairly good relationship with my madness, as it doesn't stem from any particular trauma, and I spend a lot of time at work advocating on behalf of people with mental ill health.
Other people are not so lucky, and frankly, i'm frightened that one day you're going to direct the same level of insensitive nosiness at an abuse survivor or someone still trying to come to terms with their illness, and you're going to do them a lot of damage.
Specsavers sadly lack a function to email and complain, so I'll be ringing your store this morning to let them know what an asshole you are. I really hope you get struck off.
the mad chick you saw yesterday.