The Price of Mental Health

Last night I stopped over at my parents' house for a visit. I had just stopped by the pharmacy to get my Happy Pills and realized something horrifying--my Cobra insurance is running out very soon. I've already applied for my very own health care package through a local group, but most self-purchased health insurance policies do not cover pre-existing conditions, and my anxiety and depression sadly fall into that category in the mental-health bracket of their giant list. Greeeeat. So while I was at the pharmacy, I casually asked how much the pills would cost if I didn't have insurance and promptly wanted to DIE.

I take Effexor XR. There is no generic for this, yes? So, um, we're talking hundreds of dollars a month. Xanax has a generic, so we're good to go there. But then we come to my Raging Insomnia which is exacerbated by my Raging Ear Whooshing. Recently, the generic for Ambien that I'd been taking stopped working like it used to. So my doctor switched me to Lunesta, which has given me--I kid you not--the best sleep I've had since I was a child. I love Lunesta. The problem? I paid $40 for my monthly supply yesterday. But when I asked for the price with no insurance? $179.99. Uh huh, right. The generic for Lunesta? Comes out in 2012. Right when the world ends. I guess I won't be sleeping with the Luna Moth after my Cobra runs out after all. Perhaps I just won't sleep at night ever.

I'll get it figured out. I really will. The problem is that Effexor XR really does balance out my anxiety and depression in a way that makes me feel really good. Before this, I took Lexapro, which made me feel like a zombie and added 50 pounds to my frame in roughly 3 months. Yes, it kept me from feeling anxious, but it also made me feel like my a$$ should be permanently attached to a couch. With a blanket.

What I'm trying to say is that I'm not going to f*ck with my mental stability by switching up medications just because my Cobra is running out. The worst case scenario would be to send myself on a roller coaster of emotional mayhem right in the middle of the holiday season and a major work project just because health care in the US is such a joke. I'm actually quite lucky when I think about it. What about people who have really BAD diseases? The people who take like 50 pills a day? I am not them. So I am lucky. It's all about keeping a positive mental attitude!

But because of all this health care chatter, while I was at my parents, I decided I wanted to start my own country. The main problem is that it's really hard to start your own country these days. All of the land is already taken. You can no longer go out on a boat and discover a whole freakin' continent to just TAKE. Pa suggested I float a boat somewhere offshore and claim it as my country. Um, no.

So I decided that I could go find a deserted island somewhere (perhaps Bikini--if the radiation has cooled off now) and start my own country. I could make my own rules, Constitution, etc. I could design my very own flag and write a tune to be played if we ever make it to the Olympics. Of course, on my island, I would not have the capability to develop mental health drugs, so the purpose is kind of moot, but it's still fun to think about. Ma told me I would immediately need my own military. I said, "Why does it ALWAYS have to be about having a military?" And then Ma reminded me that if I didn't, other people would come take over my country. Oh yeah...boo.

But I think I would best like to live in a village setting where everything is basically communal and everyone pitches in. The great Utopia of legends and lore. Does that make me a Communist? Or a Socialist? Heck, I don't remember my college courses on these things and it's only 8:30am. Whatevs. Speaking of time, I need to go do my job now. In my real life with my real issues and rules and health care woes. But I will allow myself to fantasize a bit while I'm working--about my little island out in the middle of nowhere where I get to make all my own rules. And Kingie really would be the King.