Give a dog a bone

My aunt just called. She and my dad were talking about me, and then he handed over the phone. "I hear you're in a rough patch?" Yep. I'd call it a rough patch. "Did the old meds work better for you?" she asks. I think so. I mean, I was on them for a while and everything was just normal. I wasn't depressed until I went off the Abilify, and I didn't hit suicidal till I was off the other two. So I guess they were working well.

"Why don't you just tell your doctor you want to go back on the others. Don't worry about cost. We just need to get you on the right meds for you. We'll figure out the money."

I want to cry out, "Too late!" You can't just go back on a cocktail and hope it works like it used to. Chemistry is an ever-changing beast. Who knows if it would help. And I'm not one for accepting charity. I can't let them pay $1,000 for meds for me. I need to figure this one out.

Is that stupid? I want to be on the right meds for me, too, but I don't want to put anyone out. I'm going crazy with the anxiety, though. I'm meeting again with the doctor on Thursday and hopefully we can pin down which one needs to go. I'm hoping the lithium goes, cause I hate the tremors.