"These changes ain't changing me..."

I am a firm believer that situations, relationships, and circumstances don't complete someone or make people into brand new people.

I think that they make people more of what they already are. They amplify what is already there.

I was never a happy person. I could have a good time, I could be personable and even warm and loving, but I've never been one of those people who sees the good in everyone or takes joy in the small things in life. I find life tedious, often joyless, and spend a great deal of time and energy just trying to get to the end of my life having endured as little pain and discomfort as possible.

MS has amplified this. MS has created for me a bullhorn in order to shout from the rooftops that there is no meaning, not much hope, and no real point to human existence but biological imperative.

The people I know, even the people who's JOB it is is to deal with people like me, don't want to hear me say, "I hate my life, every single minute of every single day." The best they can offer me is meds and a psychiatrist to monitor them. The only words of hope they've got for me is, "Things will be different in July." or "We'll know more in a year."

They can't tell me what different is going to be. They don't know what they'll know in a year.

"I hate my life, every single minute of every single day."

Whenever I get openly hopeful about something that starts working better or start talking positively about what I might be able to do come July or next year, in the back of my head I know that I'm acting like a "hugger" at the Special Olympics. It's solely for the benefit of the person I'm talking to. It's to make them feel better about my life and give them praise for saying or doing the right thing.

Because even if you earn gold at the Special Olympics, you're still disabled. That's the sum total of pretty much everything you will accomplish. And people clap because it's the only thing you're ever going to do that will get you public applause.

I won't lie to you about how I am feeling. But in a couple of weeks if you get the feeling that I'm not really there or present, it's probably because I don't care. I've been dealing with MS for less than 140 days, and I'm already tired of doing it.

At least with medication I can make both of us feel better.