Trigger warning: This post is going to be very dark and discuss things that may cause distress, like suicidal ideation. Please be safe.
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So the other morning I went to pick up some prescriptions and found out I’m in the coverage gap. That means that from now until I reach the catastrophic stage, I have to pay for my prescriptions completely out of pocket. There’s no way I can afford that; my psych meds alone are hundreds of dollars, let alone my diabetes meds like insulin.
So on Monday I panicked. On Tuesday, on the advice of a very sweet friend, I created a gofundme page. I felt a little bit better (still panicked though, lol).
But today … well, today is a different kettle of fish. Today my mind is telling me that this is the universe telling me to let go; to stop worrying about the meds and … drift off. That this is a sign my time is done, and why bother anyway when I haven’t accomplished a damn thing in my life? I’m worthless, I’m weak, I shouldn’t be saved. I’m fighting a real battle with myself and I don’t know what to do. If I did just let go, I would need to find a home for Sam and Lucy first, because Mom wouldn’t be able to take care of them after I’m gone. And even typing that brought tears to my eyes because I love them so much and I don’t want to leave them (or her). I just want these dark thoughts to stop. When I saw my psychiatrist, she added another medication because my suicidal thoughts have been so prevalent. Which is ironic now because it’s one more medication I have to try to pay for, which is leading me to more thoughts of suicide. Funny, huh? (Okay, maybe not.)
No one needs to call the squad; I’m not actively doing anything to kill myself today. I’m still fighting and trying to hold on to hope. But at this moment, it’s more difficult than usual and I’m wishing I could close my eyes and … be nothing.
I hate the US’s insurance system. I hate that you can have insurance and still not get the care you need. I hate that my psych dr. has told me she can’t get me all the way “there”; without therapy, full recovery is unlikely (which again, insurance doesn’t cover enough for me to afford a therapist). Maybe if I take a nap I’ll feel better. I didn’t sleep well last night and that always plays hell with my emotional state. Maybe I’ll curl up with Sam and Lucy and let them comfort me. Times like this, I’m so glad I never had children. My furkids deserve better, let alone if I’d brought a child into my hell.
If you’re still reading this, thank you. If you didn’t, I understand.
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