I remember when

I remember when I could accomplish so much in the course of a week, it made people tired just to contemplate my schedule. I remember when I could get up early, go to a 5:30 a.m. aerobics class, work a full fay, and hit a 7:00 p.m. exercise class on the way home, and then finish some paperwork while watching TV.

When I was in grad school, I also worked. I was on committees. I excelled. I was hypomanic for like, three years straight. Hypomania rocks, it rocks, it rocks. Other people might loathe me, but man, I got a lot done and I felt good, and it didn't matter to me how fuckin' obnoxious I became.

My life is still busy, but it takes so much effort to get through my over-achiever's workload, I am tempted to become a slacker and just not care if people are impressed by my accomplishments or not. It would help if I could stop trying to prove how worthy I am to be in the world, also.

The biggest things holding me back are physical pain and serious medication. Yesterday, the post-herpetic neuralgia was the worst it has been since the shingles episode itself. It brought me to tears, which scared my husband. Pain killers didn't work. In addition to that, my feet hurt--I feel like a ran a marathon and have felt that way for about a month. No new shoes, no related changes to bring it on.

And then there's the whole pelvic thing. I can't continue the physical therapy, and that makes me sad. When Great West fucked up my account so badly, they basically made it impossible for me to spend any more money on my health care (except for meds). Within two weeks, my crotch was on fire, once again. My pelvic muscles hurt. I have cramps. Great West is taking away my TENS machine because, although they have deemed it to be a medically necessary device, they do not work with the device distributor the physical therapist does. The company Great West works with, Apria, does not provide TENS units. They deal strictly in oxygen, wheelchairs, and the like. This means that if I want to continue with the TENS machine, I have to buy it. It costs $700.

What the FUCK do insurance companies do with our money?

So, I don't feel so hot physically. I mull the need to kill myself every day and go on to decide this is not the time. I cannot call the severely mentally developmentally delayed customer service agents at Great West. They make me too angry to function. I have a bad history with intellectually dulled customer service employees.

My mood is OK, overall. I just feel discouraged. Chronic pain will do that to you. I could really do with a hell of a lot less nervous system activity.