I've just divulged to my husband that I've greatly cut back on taking many of my meds because of our finances. Oxcarbazapine is a mood-stabilizer but costs a lot of money, I cut that one down by half. I've stopped gabapentin altogether and lamotragine. For sleeping I've reduced Quetiapinne and am using a sample that my dr. gave me it's timed released. I still take the recommended dose of synthroid and cytomel as they run my thryroid and are quite cheap.
I'm not able to work a regular job. Past experience has demonstrated that I have massive anxiety and/or depressive disorder episodes and most often, post extreme burnout, will attempt suicide. Basically it's all about the money.
I'm having mixed feelings about not contributing to our family finances. I dread the thought of ever working in another J.O.B. that sucks the life out me. Most of all because it makes me sick and steals months from me that are irretrievable .I paint. it's the only thing I can do. yet at times even painting leaves me panting for oxygen... and as though some force much greater than myself has stormed in and used my resources to create a body of canvases. The entity promptly leaves again and I am certifiable.
I'm sure it's niave and definitely mentally ill to dream about being independantly wealthy. To have the medication I need, the art supplies I love and the representation to continually move paintings into the hands of collectors. Oh God, Christmas is coming.... my body went into a heightend sense of pain as I just wrote that.