I feel apprehensive today. Worried. I am happy though. I worry my mental illness will never allow me the amount of functioning I read on other's blogs. I read Annabel and I am continually amazed at the amount of activity she is able to do. I feel apprehensive in that I know I could never do that. Be that active. I hope to be that way someday. My father is. And so is Charlie. They are twice my age and are constant whirs of motion and activity. Sometimes, it is just hard for me to wake up, piddle around the house all afternoon, and then go into work. I really feel like I've accomplished something then. I want to be like them -- so active, so working, so vibrant. I fear it is going to take some type of rehabilitation to get me back to that level.