Oh gosh, I had asthma as a kid but outgrew it around age 18. There is nothing worse than not being able to breathe. The panic on top of not being able to breathe, I seriously feel for you and I’m sorry you’re going through that.
Insurance companies suck ass. Period. You can’t live without them but man, do they make it almost impossible to live with them. My family has had the same insurance company for 20 years so we’ve paid in a buttload. Why can’t they just cover our meds without it being like pulling teeth on an alligator? It should be simple but it definitely is not. Flipping motherfritters. I’m just saying that I understand your fight with insurance covering meds, especially absolute necessity meds, and it’s total BS.
Psychologically, I’ve struggled severely with knowing that this is how my life will be from now on. In fact, I will only get worse. I once had hopes and dreams and plans for the future that will no longer happen. My husband and I had retirement planned out. Traveling, skydiving, hiking, rock climbing, etc, and now I don’t see a future at all. Not a good one anyway. Only a future of being bedridden in unrelenting pain. My husband talks about it because our youngest is graduating HS this year and he wants to know what I see happening in this very near amazing future. It’s totally blank and if I tell him that, he gets upset with me. He says I should think positively and set goals, make plans, etc anyway. I wish it was that easy. I want him to have the most amazing future ever because he deserves it. My depression got so bad that I even tried to take myself out of the equation a couple of years ago. I thought maybe he could achieve the dreams he had if he didn’t have to worry about me. Well, that was the biggest mistake ever because it devastated my entire family.
So, I finally decided to go to therapy. I’ve only had an initial assessment but I’m scheduled for next Thursday and every Thursday after.
What’s really crazy is all of this is included in my disability paperwork along with my physical diagnoses. I dropped down to 98lbs (5’2”), I only leave the house for doctors appointments, I’m a permanent fixture on the couch, I’ve withdrawn from everyone and everything, my husband has to tell me it’s time to bathe (after ~1week), etc. I scored the highest on the depression questionnaire making me “extremely depressed”. My doctor has increased my antidepressant (Effexor) but I think I’m too far gone.
My only hope now is therapy. Fingers crossed that it’s my miracle. Disability would help financially. I have to pay $50 for every therapy session as my copay. Sorry for unloading all of my shit on you.