After almost ten years living on my own, I’m back to my parent’s house. It’s been almost 6 months after I got resign-fired and decided to leave Bandung and it’s toxicity.
Having someone constantly worrying about me is frustrating. And admitting the condition that I become a jobless stay at home daughter has been torturing me as well. Being dependent to my family kills me slowly but surely. It kills the last drops of my confidence. And the remaining faith on myself unwittingly fades too quick.
At this intersection of my life, I’ve got not many choices left.
I did all of my medication without insurance just like many of other Indonesians. This is why, I am so aware that mental health can be, or (actually) it really is, that expensive. And this is what I really don’t want to admit at this moment. The economic cost of having mental health issue.
The cost which I can not afford by living like this.
Every time I ran out of my meds, I panic myself cause that means I have to scrape out my savings or the worst… ask my parents to buy it for me. I know that money isn’t everything, but imagining myself without those meds freaks me out worse. Cause even without all those voices, I spent many of my nights thinking whether to just kill myself so that I won’t be a burden to my family anymore.
Well, no one will tell that I am a burden. But I just can’t get it out of my head either.
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