Ally (Bluesky) and Susan (DessertFlower) were brave enough to bring this up in my Remission post, so I thought it would be a good thing to talk about. I am sorry you guys are feeling so down. You are both so sweet, so there has to be something about your spirits that is better than this damn disease; that can beat that depression.

It seems that only people with a disease want to talk about what it is to live with it or the depression that often goes with it. So many times, all others want to know is the trite "I'm okay" response. Well, I am not okay. And neither are a lot of other people. And I for one need to talk about that. It's not about pity or not having a good attitude. We all need to talk, to get things out, to feel better.

We can go to psychologists and psychiatrists. We can do "mood" drugs (aka antidepressants). Or mood foods like fish, caffeine and healthy (or not healthy foods like chocolate) foods. We can have mood supplements like vitamin B12 and others. We can put music on, do all the things we love (well, almost do those things) and try, try, try every day to feel okay about our lives. Don't do all that the icons are doing or you'll pass out from lack of oxygen.

I am in one of those "moods" tonight where I sit here and look into my kitchen, thinking about how much I don't really want to eat. It's a version of anorexia but mainly due to depression and the fact that it is so hard to make dinner. By this time of day, I just want to sit. And "fast" or frozen food is out due to my inability to have gluten or sodium. I usually eat all whole foods, which means a lot of prep. So by this time of night, I end up eating "picnic" food, like an apple, pumpkin seeds and maybe cheese and crackers.

The one thing that usually keeps me going is the "unknown" or the "magical" moments life has to offer. Like the bluebirds we hardly see but when I do it makes my week. Or someone actually saying I look good (better to look good than to feel good). Or knowing that, after seven damn years, I can read my medical records and find out that I have in fact seropositive MG instead of seronegative (because the damn doctor kept it from me so his doctor pal wouldn't be sued for dismissing my concerns and keeping me from prompt diagnosis and treatment (allegedly).

I keep going back to the movie Castaway, where Tom Hank's character says that you never know what the tide will bring (it brought him a sail so that he could get off the deserted island he had been on for four years). So I cling to those "gems," those moments that make it all worthwhile, including the support I find here. I keep my eyes and mind aware so that I don't miss them. And I try to look for as much good as I can (staying the heck away from the news).

It's hard to live with a chronic illness but think of it as having an emotional and physical garage sale. Get rid of all that makes you feel bad and keep all that makes you feel good. And that you need. I don't really have a lot of words of wisdom since I struggle with depression - and the occasional suicidal thoughts - due to my physical and financial limitations. My mind is still my own though.

So if you guys need to vent or have any ideas on how to deal with all this, vent away. Or go eat this . . . . . . that can sometimes help.

Annie