MS came and went. It baffled me. I didn't know what to do, and then it would get better. Lots of things. I even went cross eyed for a bit. Leave it to a little bit of scar tissue and some optic swelling. Scary times.
But I never suspected MS. Didn't up until near the end, 6 or so years after my eyeball issue. I felt like I'd been run-over. I didn't have any energy, not to work, or play, or even stand straight. This was the way it was for years, the only relief being a steadily increasing dose of Adderall (generic).
That was when I lived in Kansas, starting my master's degree in biology. Ready for the world. Happy after struggling with a few years of illicit drug use and subterranean type doings, I was in recovery and doing it strong. Then when the fog came in, everything changed. Incompetent doctors, hospitals without conscience, loss of work and worse loss of self-esteem. And I'd had so much faith too.
Now I'm trying to reclaim my shattered sense of self, scoop up the shards, and rebuild. And I've come a long way too. But I still can't accept the loss of my 'go,' and my reliance on a substance that I grow more and more tolerant to puts me in a bad place. But life is like that I guess. It's strange, sad, sometimes beautiful, too big sometimes. It could be worse for me, but that's not what I need or want to hear. Tell me it's going to be better, make me believe it, and I'm with you. Lots of people feel like that, too, I bet.