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!
2 comments:
Well, I didn't know your whole situation; you can't boil water for coffee,
even the non-civet kind‽
............................ This /\ is an interobang, an imaginary punctuation mark that actually exists now in HTML, and I hope it shows up when I leave my comment.
Oh, off-topic again....
No coffee‽
"Practically paradise," you say? Paradise Lost, maybe, or maybe Adam and Eve had MS, through no fault of their own?
ACK -- bottled water, of course!
We had no power in the Lower East Side for a week after hurricane Sandy, and it took me a day to realize I could make coffee by boiling water, not just using my knock-off Mr Coffee, and another day to realize I could light the stove with a match instead of the electric-pilot thingy.... This, I think, really must be a symptom of MS.
Wits have given the area a new New-York-Neighborhood-Name: SoPo.
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