Well Shit on Me
I finally get out of the house, and I'm right back inside making as many doctor's appointments as possible and dealing with the lawyer. As of my 22nd birthday, I'm no longer on my dad's health insurance. Adding even more pressure, I need to go to all of these appointments before it's too late for the lawyer to make the deadline of the settlement with the insurance company. The problem is that I can take the easy way, accept the eight grand, and end up screwed in the near future. Part of it can be blamed on the fact that I might be a tad bit in denial. I'm hoping that the pain can just be explained away by my thyroid, but it really looks like fibromyalgia. Add in my bad luck, probably both. I'm done crying at least for a while. That's the main reason I avoided anyone. I knew I would burst into tears, and I hate for you guys to see me like that. Right now, I'm clutching onto my writing in order to keep myself sane. I think it helps that Alia and Lisa are getting on with their lives, and I want to be where they are too. It also means that I have to out do you guys, and become filthy rich.