CFS is not depression. If it resembles anything, I suspect it might be Alzheimer's. Let's tackle the depression angle first.
Depression is a terrible thing. I have dealt with it myself in times past and it sucks the life right out of you. It makes you want to hide away even from things that used to bring you pleasure. There IS no pleasure. The world is a dangerous, frightening place.
There is no shame in admitting to depression. If that was my deal I would say so.
The reason I argue against it and get infuriated by the very suggestion that I am depressed is simply because it's a bald-faced lie.
People with CFS get depressed, no question. This is a hard-sluggin' life to try to live. But a lot of us got here, in part, because we DIDN'T want to retreat from our lives, even when we needed to.
Where the depressed individual wants only to curl up and hide away, the person with CFS is being dragged away, kicking and screaming, from all the things they loved, STILL love and STILL want to do.
They don't want to go to bed. They don't want to take time off. They don't want to quit.
And long after their body and brain has tried to get the message of "Stop!" through to them, they are still in the ring, swinging. In spite of the fog and confusion, in spite of the fractured vision, in spite of the hopped-up nervous system.
Some days I could hardly see, hardly stand up, hardly think, but I was still taking on more tasks, more responsibilities, writing more lists and running more races.
Does that sound like depression to you?
I spent 15 years losing the battle against CFS. Two years ago, I found treatment that worked for me, and now I am making a comeback.