After the fiasco at the pharmacy I broke down at home. I was angry, I was depressed, and feeling hopeless. My health insurance dropped me because I couldn’t pay the premium, apparently there wasn’t enough money in the account it was supposed to debit from, and when I went to pick up my prescriptions the insurance had been removed from the system. I had no idea, never got a letter. So instead of a 200 dollar bill for 3 prescriptions, it was 700 out of pocket. I went home with my heart pumping wildly. The pharmacist gave me 2 nights worth of Luvox to hold me over until I figure something out. I’ve already missed two doses trying to figure out how I was going to be able to pay for it period.
My dad who was equally as frustrated at the situation as I was asked me why I was crying. I told him (not for the first time in my life) that everyone’s life would be a lot easier without me in it but I didn’t want to die, and I was just really sorry I’m nothing but problems. He indicated that this was bullshit (by saying, “that’s bullshit.”) and told me not to talk like that. We’d work through the problems, and they’d get better. No one in the house is currently employed, and it’s been hard financially particularly because of my monthly medical expenses. Even with the insurance I’d have to pop over a hundred dollars for a twenty minute visit with any doctor, which has had me begging in voice mails for prescription refills because I just can’t afford to come in, and thankfully my psychiatrist has been good to me. But now, without insurance, the prescription prices have skyrocketed. I can live without Seroquel, even though my quality of life is so much better ON it, but even after two days without my Luvox dose my mind and body were beginning to deteriorate. For starters, when I’m in Luvox withdrawal I can not breathe. It literally screws with my respiratory system particularly in periods of rest like when I’m trying to sleep. I’ll be up night after night gasping for air and crying. Without Lamictal I have zero stabilization. They are the two drugs I need in order to survive, and I don’t mean to sound overly dramatic.
I made a “GoFundMe” in hopes to get a little financial relief in the meantime: http://www.gofundme.com/mentalillnessiscostly If you know any mental health advocates who would be willing to share some of their hard earned cash with me so I can make sure I can get my medicine please share the link. There’s a large part of me that feels like it’s a cop out to ask for donations, but I’m scared right now. I’m riding 7k in debt from the Adult Day Hospital AFTER the hospital charity program. I’ve been applying for every kind of aid I can find, but it’s been a slow ride, and this is a race.
After dad calmed me down a little and I stopped crying, he came back into the room to tell me,
“Another thing to remember is, some people have no hair.” Dad’s semi-bald, and I just gave him a confused look.
“Some people have no hair, I don’t have any hair, grandpa had no hair and my grandpa had no hair. But somewhere down the evolutionary order, and I don’t know how, having no hair was an advantage. Just like that guy from the X-Men who could laser beam anything from his eyes, but learned how to manage it. I don’t know why you have your problems, but you’re smart and artistic and I know that if you can learn to manage them, you’ll have an advantage in some way too.”
So I offer seats at my table for my brethren X-Men who want to find our advantage in the world despite the trials bipolar and all other mental illnesses can and will put us through. If nothing else can come from sitting at the table with me, support is always available, as I know more than anyone that a support system, even from WordPress community strangers can make a change.