Daily Archives: July 2, 2012

Insurance Companies are the devil

So I quit taking the Abilify because I felt like I was going to have to chase my skeleton down the street once it escaped my skin.

The doctor prescribed Geodon as a replacement to treat the paranoia.

The insurance company denied it and gave me Risperdal.

Which they tried to do last time instead of the Abilify and I told the nurse I refused to take it ever again because it made me gain sixty pounds and did no good at all.

So now I have to do battle yet again because the doctor expects me to take this shit when I believe I made myself abundantly clear. And ya know, she’s the doctor, so them overruling what she wanted me to have in favor of their cheaper idea should piss her off. It sure as fuck does me. I’m all for saving money but when the patient has tried the cheaper versions with no success and unappealing side affects, then the more expensive should be covered, period. Insurance companies are the devil and should not be allowed to stick their nose into medical care when all they care about is money.

I have been super depressed, just functioning on auto pilot. The heat has not helped. And when I say heat, I don’t mean 85 degrees normal summer. I mean nothing less than 96 for the last 8 days and we’re looking at seven more with temps in the hundreds. I am sweaty and cranky and pissed off to say the least. Every day it just feels like trudging uphill, and I have summer bronchitis, so I can barely breathe in the humidity and keep coughing up lungs. I am frustrated beyond words. I am not looking forward to this dr appointment.

I think it is Thursday.

I am going on a downtrodden tirade. LISTEN TO ME, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, HOW CAN I GET BETTER IF YOU WON’T LISTEN AND COOPERATE????I want back on Effexor, the Celexa is as effective as tic tacs for the depression. f course, that would probably be too expensive and they’d stick me on Zoloft which made me suicidal. But hey, what do I or the doctor know, the insurance company is God.

No, they’re not, they are the devil. They just think they are God.

You have no idea how much I wish to be independently wealthy and just pay straight out for my meds, so I don’t have to deal with this shit of people I don’t know who don’t know fuck all fucking with me getting better. Geodon may have been my magic bullet but I will never know now.

The more I see of this brave new world, the more I wish I had a time machine to pack my kid into and just go back to a time when things made a little more sense and people had more control over their own bodies and lives.

The United States used to be a great country.

Now it is run by Big Business (aka pharma companies) and I’m not particularly proud to say I am from this country.

Sad. Very very sad

And being depressive and depressed makes it even sadder and more infuriating.



A Walk on the Wild Side

Believe it or not, this post is actually a return to my walk training (17 days to go & counting!). But after the last couple of posts celebrating Bowie week, I thought I’d start off by tipping my hat to Lou Reed as well with this picture, which presented itself a few hours after my walk, when things did indeed get a little more wild. More of which later.

After my mild bout of geographical dyslexia a couple of posts back, I thought it might be sensible to pick slightly more familiar territory, and plumped for a route I’ve walked several times before – a section of The South Downs Way that starts off at The Devil’s Dyke just outside Brighton and ends up in Lewes; it’s a fairly respectable 12 mile walk, although a fair way short of the entire South Downs Way, which runs around 100 miles from Winchester to Eastbourne, taking in some of the most beautiful countryside you’re likely to see in The South of England.

Lewes itself is steeped in antiquity, with archaeological evidence pointing to prehistoric dwellers in the area, various artifacts suggesting a major Roman settlement, and the remains of a Norman castle with intact turrets that still overlook the town.

Nowadays, it’s probably best known for the annual Guy Fawkes Night festivities and historic pagan rituals, which are rather more impressive than the archetypal British village green affairs, with five different parades and firework displays with up to 3,000 people taking part in the celebrations and usually at least 50,000 spectators – not bad going for a normally sleepy market town with a population of around 16,000.

There’s also a distinctly anarchic feel to the proceedings, with effigies of various contemporary hate figures being burnt alongside Guy Fawkes – in recent years including George Bush and Osama Bin Laden – as well as the Lewes tradition of burning an effigy of the Pope, commemorating the memory of seventeen Protestant martyrs from the town who were burnt at the stake under pro-Catholic legislation in the 17th Century.

The Devil’s Dyke

All of which religious shennanigans takes us neatly back to the start of the walk at Devil’s Dyke, the longest, widest and, at about 100 metres, the deepest dry chalk valley in the country, which was caused by river erosion after the Ice Age, when the snowfields covering the South Downs melted, forming rivers across Sussex and the valley being created by one such river over subsequent years.

Local folklore (well, Wikipedia, actually) offers an explanation that is rather less geologically-minded. Legend has it that The Devil was digging a deep trench to allow the sea to flood the many churches in the local area. The noise of the digging disturbed an old woman who lit a candle, making the Devil believe that dawn was approaching, causing him to flee the scene with the trench unfinished, and throwing the last shovel of earth over his shoulder which fell into the sea and formed the Isle of Wight. On the balance of evidence, I think I’m with the pagans.

Anyway, enough rambling; here’s a few pictures from the walk:

OK, OK, I admit that I went a bit off-piste there. But I think the photo at the top of the post should have given some indication that the day didn’t end in an entirely conventional way.

After kicking off my walking boots and jumping in a hot shower, we headed three hours up the motorway to a mini festival, Haselstock, held by a friend in the equally beautiful countryside of Northamptonshire, which was themed, appropriately enough, Woodland Creatures, with guests being invited to dress up accordingly.

If the camel was stretching the theme a bit (for any pedants out there, camels did actually evolve from a forest-dwelling creature living about 50 million years ago in North America, so there), the guests took it to new heights, with an impressively eclectic range of sartorial interpretations, including a bunch of blueberries (forest fruits), a transvestite Little Red Riding Hood, a couple of Avatars, any number of fabulous furry freaks in leopardskin catsuits (courtesy of Leopardskin Bunny) and a bloke in a red ballgown with a motorbike helmet that had been customised into a disco glitter ball (not quite sure where that one evolved from).

But to protect the innocent and to completely gloss over the fact that I forgot to recharge my camera battery after my walk, here’s a tiny selection of the more publishable photos before the party really got started:

Pretty as a picture: Tiff & Bryony

Filed under: Camino Countdown Tagged: Brighton, David Bowie, East Sussex, Photograph, Photography, Pics, Sussex, The South Downs Way, Walk, Walking

Boing, Boing

I still have no idea where my mood is going. If anything, I’ve entered this sort of [[null]] space where I’m not really able to tell. It feels up, it feels down, it feels… increasingly fragile, I guess. I’m hoping the fact I’ve got two social things planned this week will help stabilize whatever it is. All I know is I can’t think about it too much lest I risk tipping myself, heh. Such are the joys of the precarious mental balance, right? It starts to feel a bit damned if you do, and damned if you don’t. There’s not much to do besides putting one’s head down and hoping that the… whatever… is weathered.

Speaking of weathering, I should consider making a to-do list of my random odds and sods that still needs doing… though at this point, it might just vex me. Yes, I know I should’ve finished writing that letter a month ago. Yes, I know I could’ve finished that sewing task over the weekend. Would writing them down encourage me? I don’t really know right now. Lists are usually helpful in getting me moving, but I suspect I might be taking after my heatherbat right now and that it would actually make me more cross at myself. It’s more of the damned if, damned don’t.

Maybe I should just give up and drink coffee. That can’t do any harm… right? xD


Therapy In Progress

Having gotten past the initial “welcome to your bipolar dx” and getting-stabilized-on-meds stages, the question of what I’m actually doing …

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