Many heart-wrenching, inspiring stories, let me add this one.
When I got sick in 2004 I was 30, I had just left for the big city to start my (second) career as a designer, needless to say that in a year's time it was very clear that I was not going to make it as I was severe and mostly home/bedbound.
I retired to the countryside to get better, and in the meanwhile I thought: what can I do with half of my brain and mostly bedridden? I had a lot of training in academic research, so I chose that as the easy way (I know it's not), so I started writing academic papers, which I had never written before, cognitive issues in the beginning were pretty bad so I had to wait for days before being able to collect the thoughts to write one sentence, had these little notes everywhere.
Anyway, after 5 papers published, in 2009 I improved quite a bit, and also got awarded a PhD scholarship. The burden was 38 hours per week but in fact nobody checked and I could manage. by paying a fortune to live only 600 meters away from the office and by looking a bit lazy.
Although I always managed to do my job and some more, things didn't end well with that boss and I had to quit.
As I was much better and my daily activity had gone from 6 hours a day to maybe 8/9 hours, I decided to try again with design - I got two part time jobs that I performed ok although struggling but I found looking for clients quite exhausting. I was still trying to find another place to finish my PhD, and I had another bout of bad luck, I found some scammers and got mobbed and blackmailed to do different work instead of my studies.
In the meanwhile it has become clear that in order to have this ghost of a career I had to neglect my social life very dramatically, so I found myself completely alone in the world, no friends, no family, nothing. Also my life had became very formulaic (= boring) because of the ferocious pacing I was holding myself up to. Empty and boring.
Now, 2015, I am experiencing my second relapse since 2011 (8 months already) and it's very clear to me that if I want to have a full life I have to give up on my dreams of professionalism. I got some family business cleared so I luckily can have a little backup income (I don't perceive any benefits), and my plan was to move to a cheaper city and try again with the design only part time, but now all my perspective has changed and it seems more important now to work with people, to improve people's lives, but still I can do much more work sitting/lying down. Also I feel I waste so much time being sick and looking for therapies that I can't become good at what I do. (although my health did improve some, so it was worthwhile)
Creativity used to be ok, but last year on top of the rest I got depression, that is the ultimate killer.
I feel sad that I will never offer a relevant contribution to society, but after all I think this is a kind of snobbery, and I have to give up what my family wanted me to be and what I thought I wanted to be, in order to be... something completely different.