We've all heard it said time and time again, that money can't buy you happiness, but I'm here to tell you I highly disagree, because money can buy you happiness, and it has for me. Now let me explain.
Last November I had the opportunity to spend some time with most of my immediate family. It was fun, but after the vacation ended my loved ones began contacting me, concerned for my health. They had read this blog, and we're worried about me. It's no wonder why, what I've shared on here is down right scary, true as it is. My family pleaded with me to seek out help, because apparently even when you have major depressive disorder, you don't always have to be on the brink of falling into what seems like eternal despair. I realized that my family would only say these things to me if they really were truly concerned, so I called my doctor and made an appointment. At the appointment I told the honest truth. I said that the current medication that I was taking definitely took the edge off of my depression, but I also mentioned how every day I still felt like I was dragging myself everywhere. My doctor prescribed a new medicine, and gave me a months worth of free samples. I started the new medication that night, and I when I woke up in the morning, I couldn't believe how I felt. I felt alive for the first time in years, and had desires to do things I hadn't enjoyed doing in years. That first month was wonderful, and I had no problem accepting the prescription for a next months supply. Near the end of December I went to pick up the next month at my pharmacy, and I was quite shocked at the total, and that was with my current insurance paying more than half of it. In January I was going to lose that insurance, so to prepare myself I asked the pharmacist how much I would have to spend the next month, and the answer was devastating. I quickly contacted the insurance that would take over once my current one ended, asking if they would cover the new medication. The answer took weeks to get, and it was a no. They gave me a new medication to try, one that was supposedly similar to what I had switched to, so I tried it. The next morning I woke up and my high was gone, and life began to drag again. I knew though that sometimes depression meds can take up to a month to work, so I patiently endured my despair once again. After a few weeks I forgot what my high had felt like, and I once began to accept that feeling dragged everywhere was the norm.
I went on like this all through January, until it was time to refill the medication. I went to the pharmacy to ask about the refill, and while looking through my records the pharmacist asked me about the expensive meds. I sadly told her I wouldn't need those anymore, that the other was replacing it, and then I dejectedly left the store. On the drive home I began to think, why was I so sad that I couldn't get the expensive medication? And then I remembered how good I had felt on the expensive meds, how fun life was, how I had been excited to be a mom to my adorable son and a loving wife to my husband, and it was at that moment that it hit me. Money can buy Happiness. Upon my return home I called my doctor, and we are once again petitioning my insurance to pay for the expensive meds since their recommendation didn't work. So last night, I started the good meds again, and today has been the best day since January. I don't know what my insurance is going to say, I hope and pray that they will help pay for the meds, but even if they won't, I will fork over the money month after month, because it is worth it to be finally out of the dark after four and a half years, and living once again, finally, in the light.
So yes, money can buy you happiness, just not in the way one would first think.
Stay strong, for we can do hard things,
Lacey miller
