The Chronic Empire

Welcome to the Dark, Brilliant, Weird Little Empire of Chronic Truth — ruled by none other than Warlock Dark. This is no ordinary blog. This is a bastion for the broken, a fortress of the funny-boned, a castle built from sarcasm, tea, and nerve damage. Here, the pain is real, the humour is darker than a GP's coffee, and the bladder never sleeps.

📅 THE REAL STUFF (No Bull, No Fluff)

MS isn’t just a condition. It’s a full-body existential prank. But for anyone newly diagnosed or wondering what the hell is happening to their nervous system, here’s a raw, real, non-terrifying breakdown:

Numbness & Tingling — Fingers, toes, tongue, lips, everywhere. Like being slowly frosted by invisible fairies with bad intentions.

Vision Problems — Blurry, ghosted, monocular mischief. Suddenly you're part-cyclops.

Muscle Weakness & Spasms — Legs fold, arms tremble, and occasionally you Riverdance in your sleep.

Fatigue — Not "tired." Obliterated. Drained like an iPhone from 2009.

Cognitive Wipeouts — Losing track of the day, words, names, or why you're in the fridge again.

Bladder Madness — Two-hour toilet timer. Never off-duty. Never apologetic.

Pain — Burning, stabbing, aching. No metaphors required. It just hurts.

🌿 THE NOT-INSANE NATURAL STUFF

Move It — Yoga, stretching, tai chi, or just rolling your neck while cursing the heavens.

Eat Real — Anti-inflammatory stuff helps. Leafy things. Omega-3s. Less deep-fried beige.

Sleep Like You Mean It — Proper rest. Screens off. Mind down. Rage optional.

Mind Rituals — Journaling, meditating, ranting to the void.

Talk — To people. To animals. To plants. To invisible gods. Whatever keeps you tethered.

🇬🇧 THE BRITISHLY BLEAK HUMOUR SECTION

You know how it is:

You wake up feeling like a boiled skeleton. You try to stand and your leg says, "LOL no." You make it to the loo just in time to almost make it. Your doctor smiles, hands you a leaflet written in 1986, and tells you to "try breathing exercises."

And yet... you persevere. With a teacup in one hand, and the raw, burning rage of 10,000 misfiring neurons in the other.

🕯️ QUOTES FROM WARLOCK DARK (Volume I)

"My nerves are not broken — they are wild serpents, and I am learning to speak their tongue."

"This is not weakness. This is weather. Storms live inside me."

"I have seen the gods. They were waiting for their prescription refills too."

"Fatigue is a form of time travel. You blink, and the day is gone."

"This chair is not my end. It’s my war beast. Roll me to the gates, I dare you."

"Magic lives in broken places. I’m practically radioactive."

✍️ OUTRO FROM THE CHRONIC THRONE

So yes — the tongue is numb, the bladder’s a traitor, and the storm never really stops. But the mind? Still alive. Still wired weird. Still writing.

Stay tuned for Volume II: "Fatigue & Other Black Magics"

And remember: this is not recovery. This is reclamation.

Long live the Warlock. Long live the Chronic Empire.

🔮 Warlock Dark’s Quotes from the Edge (A.K.A. Mind Melt Time) Now, let’s go full myth. Let’s make MS epic. Let’s reforge this thing into weird, beautiful, apocalyptic poetry — courtesy of Warlock Dark, the ancient spirit of pain, mischief, and inconvenient wisdom:

🕯️ “My nerves are not broken — they are wild serpents, and I am learning to speak their tongue.” — Warlock Dark

🕯️ “This body is a cathedral struck by lightning. I don’t need healing. I need worship.”

🕯️ “Doctors gave me a folder. I gave them a prophecy.”

🕯️ “I have seen the inside of time. It crackles, it burns, it forgets its own name. That is what fatigue tastes like.”

🕯️ “They call it multiple sclerosis. I call it the slow alchemy of becoming something unkillable.”

🕯️ “Yes, I forget what day it is. Time has no meaning in the Warlock’s garden — only the storms remain.”

🕯️ “My wheelchair is not a prison. It is a throne on wheels, gliding through the ruins of the ordinary.”

🕯️ “The gods don’t answer my prayers. They take notes.”

🕯️ Warlock Dark’s Arcane Quotes for the Chronically Bewitched (Collectible. Utterly unusable. Spiritually necessary.)

“My nerves are not broken — they are wild serpents, and I am learning to speak their tongue.” – Warlock Dark, Volume I: ‘The Tingle Codex’

“This is not weakness. This is weather. Storms live inside me.” – Warlock Dark, Volume II: ‘The Internal Forecast’

“I have seen the gods. They were waiting for their prescription refills too.” – Warlock Dark, Volume IV: ‘Waiting Room Rituals’

“Fatigue is a form of time travel. You blink, and the day is gone.” – Warlock Dark, Volume V: ‘Chronicles of the Missing Afternoon’

“This chair is not my end. It’s my war beast. Roll me to the gates, I dare you.” – Warlock Dark, Volume IX: ‘Battle Hymns for the Seated’

“Magic lives in broken places. I’m practically radioactive.” – Warlock Dark, Untitled Fragment, scrawled on a napkin and burned. The gods are deaf. The stars are mute. The dark is deep, and the dark is acute. But still—he speaks, in verse and venom, His tongue numb, but truth within 'em.

For even in ruin, the Warlock remains, Wreathed in electric storms and phantom chains. He writes his spells in blood and pain, And dares the void to speak his name.

looking to buy a cheap second hand q100 wheelcair or similar in the devon cornwall area as mine has gone completely to the breakers yard in the sky ... many thanks sick@mylivinghell.co.uk

       “The views in this post are based on my personal  
          experience. I do not intend harm, only honesty.”