I was gladdened to find this morning a comment from a friend on my previous entry regarding "depression." I call her a friend, though I have never met her -- but this is what friends do, isn't it -- whether you've met them or not -- they take the time to say something, and they cause you to recognize that someone out there is listening, and even cares.
My friend chides me gently about my (mis)use of the term 'depression' -- and I deserve that, so I don't mind. Really, I'm more peeved than depresssed. I'm more lazy than depressed. Adjusting to events and realities that do not coincide with my own plans has never been my strong suit. Transitions, adjustments -- yuck.
At the same time, I'm still not convinced that clinical depression is a symptom of MS. I mean, being a bit depressed by the troubles caused by MS would seem only natural -- again, a circumstantial reaction rather than a brain chemistry disorder. Oddly enough, I find very little about MS to be depressing in my own case. Of all things in my life, it seems the least depressing. In fact, I kind of like it. It's interesting. And it is no fault of my own. This helps to put the blame for various failings on something outside of my control -- whereas I have no choice other than to hold myself accountable for failings that cannot be ascribed to the disease.
But in any case, thank you, Scatterbrain, for reading, and for listening, for caring and for commenting. Cheers!