Uncategorized

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

Unfortunately, I'm in that place. My cognitive dysfunction is so bad. I am having issues doing absolutely anything. So just doing this is kind of... Hardish in a way. So this will probably be one of my disjointed ones I think. Yes, it's about two o'clock and my head is in a complete fog. But I think too much my head just goes... Baaah! Yes, it seems to be in a place like syrup and concrete mixing round and tinnitus. Not being very pleasant. My automatic new mood, dysfunction, whatever you'd like to call it, is really giving me quite hell today. I can't understand why I followed my diet to the letter. Oh well, it's probably MS now giving me a kicking as well. You know how it goes folks, you have one thing wrong with MS season and says "Ah, I'm going to make it 20 times as worse." That's where I am at the moment. So yeah, going to the chemist's nada, even going out the front door nada, feeling like I should just go to bed, stick my head under the covers and just stay there for the rest of my days.

The feeling of strangulation and the whole left hand side of my body. The feeling of the nerves in the roof of the mouth. Going down the throat. Going down the whole length of your guts down to your bumhole. Every nerve is like a sensor. And if anything goes through, bang, the pain just is unbelievable. Yes. Yes, diet has worked, but something I'm eating has crept in to cause things in my system to go weird again. So I'm going to have to dive through and see why I've eaten over the past few days. Well, is it stress? I don't know. Am I under stress? I don't feel as though I'm under stress. Am I happy? Yes, I'm relatively happy. Am I in a good place? Well, in as good a place as you can be with what I've got. So yeah.

So it seems today my head and everything else is going to be on a major glitch out. My eyes hurt, my eyes are so sensitive to light at the moment, it's unreal. I can only open one eye, the other eye is so hurty, yes. I believe the MS is deciding to give me a good kicking, I can feel my tongue at the back. It's a tongue in the middle really isn't it, that goes numb. That's the worst thing having a numb tongue, a numb mouth really, that's the crazy thing. People don't understand what that's like, that's just like eating jellignite I suppose. That's how bad it can be, trust me on that. When you've taken a bite of something and you've bitten through your lip or you've bitten through your tongue and there's a bite. My tongue is a nightmare with holes and bits of bitten off over the years and so is my lips in parts.

So the good news next week I go to trial my new wheelchair but they're not going to let me take it home with me. No, I have to wait for them to bring the wheelchair to me, which I think is rather quite strange but there we go. And that's a one, two, two and a half to three hour trip round trip. I am going to be so done that it's going to be unreal and I just can't understand why they can't do it at my nearest hospital. You know, it's just plain weird, it really is. then at least I hope I will have something I can rely on. As you know the batteries on the three-wheeled scooter of death which I have been using are next to useless and well yes there was a wheelchair and the words of that song and another one bites the dust and another one bites the dust basically.

I wonder if I'll be able to get the AA out and get that battery done. That's something I wonder about. Well, never mind.

Still wishing everybody a happy new year, whomever, whatever, and wherever you are.

Warlock Dark Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

Still, the holidays are over. And yes, did I have a good time? Not really. I do miss the Christmases of many, many, many, many years ago though. The big family Christmases of maybe 20, 30 years ago. So I'm hoping everybody, no matter whom, had a fantastic holiday season.

Personally, the holiday season really sucked for me. Yes, it really did. To be fair, the weather really did for me more than anything else. It seems that the south-west went uber, uber-frosty. And yes, it had consequences that are going to be felt well into the new year. Oh, the joys. Rusty 1 the van. Oh, turn the key and the battery is as dead as a dodo. And I have to go to the wheelchair services to sort my new wheelchair out in the new year. So here's hoping that I can get the AA over to come and start the van up. Here's hoping I don't need a new battery, otherwise that's going to be a real pain in the bum. That's what really annoys me. It's everything coming to a halt. It seems when the holidays arrive, everything stops and there we go. But that's just me I suppose.

Not to mention my phone driving me mad with all the text messages from the chemist, telling me that I have to be there to pick my prescription up. And yeah, I get busy people. Yeah, when you receive like three text messages and you can't go to get them because it's impossible. Yeah, it makes you wonder, doesn't it? And then I have to go and see the machine of death and put my numbers in and see what comes out. Will I break the machine? Will the machine break me? What will happen? Will the people be really happy with me? Will the chemist give me one of those knowing looks of oh here comes the man with the three wheeled trolley of death. And he's come to break my dispensary machine. Yeah, well these electrical things are not built the best, but they're a very good idea in practice. And should I say in theory they're a very good idea but in practice probably not the best.

So now it's getting in touch with the AA, get the battery sorted, probably a new battery. Oh, the joys of that. And then there's having to travel, what is it, 60 miles to go to the wheelchair services? I can't do it locally. No, it's a bit daft. But there we go, such is life. And if it's snowing, then I won't be able to go. Oh, dear. Do you know it's going to be snowing and you know the weather's going to be bad because I got a January appointment. It's never good down here in the snow. So yeah, I could be waiting even longer for my new wheelchair. Apparently it goes up and down side to side and there's all sorts of weird stuff. So I am looking forward to getting that. I bet it actually get out the house and go more places, see more people. It might be a go, oh yeah. I mean, how unreal is that? Actually go out. Actually go somewhere. Actually see people. But then again, do I really want to go out? Everybody seems to have the colds, flu, diarrhea, all these bugs and illnesses going around everywhere.

Now I'm retired. I may as well just say, hey, just don't bother ever going out again. And then I'll feel, well, just as shitty with the MS and the dysfunction. But hey, now at least I won't have the flu. But then again, people who deliver me food and stuff. Yeah, so it's all very well, isn't it? But self isolation can only go so far really. And then the end, you can probably self isolate the point where you never ever go outside again. And you never want to speak to anyone again. So then it inpeeds on your mental health. So yeah, some people seem to think being disabled is a very easy life. I can tell you it's not. Even doing this is making my head hurt the point that I want to stop but I'm not. That's the problem with chronic illness. You push and push and push until you can't push anymore.

So the bane of my life at the moment seems to be batteries. The joys of batteries and battery discharges, batteries exploding, batteries that don't do what they say on the label. Honestly, I think I've spent most of my money on replacement batteries over the past load of years. It's quite incredible. And it's always just outside the guarantee as well. So you're thinking, "Ah, yes." No, it seems all the electrical stuff doesn't last very long these days. I can remember having a radio solid state when I was only a teenager that I still probably had up until a few years ago. That's how long stuff used to last 40, 50 years. These days things can't last five minutes. It's a bit weird that. Seems things got better but don't last as long. That is very strange.

January is coming and let's hope the weather warms a little. The physiotherapist is coming over to see me in January for a look over I believe. So that should be interesting. Let's see what new exercises they can give me to help me. I'm sure they're very helpful. The person sounded very helpful and very knowledgeable on the phone and I'm looking forward to this appointment. but still waiting to hear from the neurology department as I want to get into this dysfunction business with them so they can help me out more. It really is a silly thing sometimes. I should have moved hospitals years ago, but I didn't and now I'm regretting that I didn't. So yeah, yes, that's down to me unfortunately. I am fed up with all these symptoms down the left hand side of my body, like my body has had a stroke. Yes, this dysfunction or auto dysfunction or however they say it or spell it is causing me hell. Because I cannot have any histamine in anything I eat, otherwise it sends me into this really weird place. But I am having to try and deal with it, but it is causing me heart issues as well. So I am waiting to hear back from a cardiology thing as I had a heart monitor for a week as well. Yes, I know what I think is wrong with me and I am just waiting back to hear that it is not as bad as it could be, but it is still bad if you know what I mean....

So to be honest, I've spent the whole of these last past few days trying to relax and de-stress. It's been very cold here. I've been trying to stay warm. I've been really getting into trying to get my diet sorted out. Now I know what's really going on. And that's starting to help. Believe me, change of diet is everything. It done half-help, I'll tell you. MS and this autumn Munich dysfunction. Oh my word. Food really, really causes hell with it all.

Yeah, well, now my spelling. I'm using voice to text to do this as my fingers are completely numb and I cannot feel anything with my hands at the moment. My voice is slightly croaky and some of my words are, well, not what they seem. It's just too funny. But I refuse to put my words through AI as it sanitizes and changes my words too much. So you'll probably see the complete change in my writing style. Yeah. But there we go. I was told use your own words. Don't let the AI change your words. Then your real real words are true, genuine, not sort of AI made up stuff.

I have not forgotten about doing my spoken blog either and that is now being sorted out. We have a Spotify account and we are just getting everything ready and I have to get the confidence and I have to get my head together to do it as well. So that should be fun.

Warlock Dark Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

So yeah, it appears it's Wednesday. Yes, Wednesday. I just can't believe it's Wednesday today. I thought it was... I don't know what day I thought it was. That just shows how bad I'm feeling at the moment. Yes, I'm struggling and struggling and it seems the more I try the worse I get. Well, I knew that anyway. And I'm testing out all these new programs that say they can do this and they can do that and help me. I am yet to find any program that can really, really help me for what I need. I'm very specific in what I need and unfortunately everything is just too washy-washy these days.

Why do they make things that are so easy, so complicated? That is the thing that has always, always annoyed me. So I await the arrival of all these new things in 26 to do with technology to see how far we've really moved on, or how far backwards we've gone. Forward, backwards, sideways, up or down. It really doesn't bother me. just you need to know where you are at some points I think...

So this autonomic dysfunction that I have with my MS just seems to be driving me absolutely around the bend. It seems no matter what, I just continue to be on the edge of this weird thing 24/7 and stress or anything and set this silliness off. And the worst thing is that it is to do with histamine. Yes, histamine. If I have histamine in food, it can kill me. I didn't realize that. But I'm beginning to realize now just how much I've had to change what I eat. So now I'm having to eat totally and utterly, healthfully. No junk food whatsoever. which is rather boring when you have to sit there and watch the rest of the family eating the everything that you cannot eat and You just look on thinking well if I ate that I know what would happen but it's good to see everyone else eating and Well, I suppose I really did enjoy my flatbread so There we go Yes, it was very nice indeed But I have to stick to this absolute diet I have otherwise it just causes so much problem with my Autonomic dysfunction. It's unbelievable Anything can set it off that's what I'm just realizing and Changing my life yet again Something is a real pain.

So I'm trying to hope that the doctors will find something that will help settle all this down Help it sort itself out somehow I don't care really. I don't mind having to change .. That's not the point It's just the headfuck and all the nasty feelings you get with it That's what I can't deal with I can deal with the condition It's just I can't deal with the mental torture that it puts you through as well which a lot of these doctors and Neuros etc. Don't realize the mental torture through all this isn't the best So, you know, we like to get things sorted quickly if we can... So yeah, today I feel fed up.

And as I look out the window the sun is out and it's shining through the clouds. Yet we've had a lot of rain and it's caused a lot of issues. So yeah, I'm hoping that everybody has a happy holiday or seasons greetings or whatever you want to call it. I call it all the pain in the rear end as this holiday period is just like a normal day for me. I suffer and I carry on. So yeah, such is life. But hey, I want to go over the bridge at some point in the new year. So let's hope that my power chair battery decides to behave itself. Yes, I know we've had the frost this morning. So that can mean only one thing. I haven't used my chair for a couple of days. That's the three-wheeled scooter of death. So that means that we down to at least 50%. And I ask myself, where does all this electricity go? Yes, there we go. I suppose it goes and the little fairies say thank you for all of that. Oh, thank you. And then there is the ongoing frustration about my mental health and me seeing things. Now apparently the DRS say that I can see things. This will be another post as it's probably going to go on for ages. So I'm just warning everybody now. It's going to probably be well worth a read, but it's going to be back my experiences of what I am seeing and things that I've seen. And I want people to actually get back to me and say what they think they are, whether it's neuro or it is a spiritual thing or whatever. It would be good to know because nobody can tell me. Yeah, because nobody's got a tin foil hat on I don't think.

So I'm either going around the bend or I went clear around the bend years ago. I don't mind being called eccentric but I don't think I'm mad. Or am I? Apparently people with neuro... see here we go I'm starting already and I should really finish as my heads all over the place. Still this is going up and I hope everybody has a happy holiday and you never know there might be a disjointed post yet again from the My Living Hell team. Happy holidays.

Warlock Dark Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

Still it Sunday afternoon and the weather outside is grey and typically awful this time of year. As I look out the window it's just grey and dull, dreary, horrible, nasty, south-western, blah weather. But I am reminded today is Yule. So I wish all those who celebrate Yule a very happy Yule. And if I don't get to blog again before, I wish everybody seasons, greetings, holiday greetings or whatever greetings you have. If you're working that day, have a good day and all that sort of stuff. But from my perspective, of my point of view, Christmas day is just like any other day, just with a bit of tinsel on top. Does it make me feel any happier toward people? Probably not at Christmas. I've turned into a real bar humbug type of dude. Yeah, I do it for the grandchildren. And that's about it, really. Otherwise, I wouldn't bother with Christmas as Christmas lost all its meaning 40, 50 years ago, I think. It just got too commercial. And I think the true meaning of family and togetherness and happiness has been lost. So yeah, it's all more about all who can buy this, who can have that and who can afford this and that. I'm just generally not into all that. So yeah, I don't send Christmas cards, haha. And I don't get any back. Well, I haven't got anybody who sends me stuff anyway, so that really doesn't bother me. I think all my family disowned me when they found out I had MS because they couldn't handle it or me, too many skeletons in the cupboard. Yeah, so it's always easier to blame somebody who is an outsider than themselves or think of others. So yeah, I'm a cookoo in a few nests, but that's not my fault. So well. . Well, that's their loss, isn't it? But then again, families are complicated. I have many brothers, many sisters, many half-brothers, and many half-sisters. Yes, so. I wish them all happy, whatever. And hope that they keep on forgetting me because that would make me a lot happier as they never wanted to understand me anyway. As I am the black sheep, the weird one of the family, the one that has the illness, the one that thinks differently. The one who dresses differently, the one who is kind of out there a bit, I suppose. So to my family, the adopted one wishes all his true brothers and sisters out there the happiest seasons, greetings and holidays and everything. And for all the ones out there who I don't know of, have a good one. Yeah, things can get funny when you're adopted. I thought this blog's about really, it's about what I'm thinking about at the time, not the way the AI used to push me down a certain line. So everything's going to feel higgledy, there's going to be spelling mistakes because as I talk into this microphone and see my words going on to the paper, I can see how it interprets my words. Some of the words will be different, but I don't care because at last I'm free, free to speak my mind. Oh yes, and the worst thing ever to happen to me was with my MS that is was well. Do you want to know? I bet you do, the most worst thing that ever happened and the most embarrassing thing that ever happened. That's always good to know isn't it? Well, when I am doing the spoken word on Spotify, my monthly or bi-weekly podcast, I'm going to be telling all from what it's like to receive catheter training from a really, really, well, yeah, you're just unbelievable stories of 80s and how things used to be and what it's like to receive needles in the spine and stuff like that, the horrors. I'm going to tell it like it is completely unvarnished because that's what you really want, isn't it? Or do you want me to sanitise everything and make everybody feel good? Or do you want to hear it as it is? You know, this is what we really want to know. doing this is so therapeutic. My brain fog is kind of floating in and floating out and I can feel my head pounding in the left and right and my fingers and my feet are like pins and needles. It does feel completely weird and my sort of tongue is being pulled down hard on the left hand side and also my throat is feels like there's something being pulled down in my throat as well. You know what that feels like if you've got MS it's just a nasty horrible feeling but unfortunately the only way of getting around that besides I suppose meditation is going to see somebody and getting help and relief. I use THC, cannabis oil or even medical marijuana or I have been going to the doctor and been getting some lorazepam recently to help and also some benzodiazepine as well strangely. So with these severe attacks I seem to be getting at the moment this autonomic dysfunction stuff when it's all sorted out hopefully I'll be able to get off the big pharma stuff and yeah he's hoping that's going to get sorted out after Christmas but I didn't say which Christmas did I? Well anyway there we go that's it from me this Sunday afternoon and yeah I'm feeling well kind of fed up pissed off and just feeling like I need to be doing something somewhere else. You get that sort of feeling you know where you'd like to go out and you'd like to run a marathon or something but you know you can't even get out your chair because you fall out. So yeah, happy seasons, holidays, whatever greetings to everybody. Have a good one.

Warlock Dark Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

So we find ourselves again thinking about having a spoken word blog, no less on Spotify. I tried doing was quite disappointing. But then again, I'm learning. It didn't help that I was suffering with massive cognitive dysfunction and brain fog. And you know what that's like. It creeps up on you and bang before you know where you are. You just can't remember what you're doing. It's the most weirdest of feelings. Well, anyway, it's taken me now a month and a half to two months just to get my Spotify account sorted out. So let's hope that my living hell, multiple sclerosis blog will be going verbal as they say soon.

I've been wondering about what I shall talk about or speak about on the blog. And I thought, well, I'm just going to talk about common sense things and just talk about things that people want to hear. It's not going to be sanitised. It's going to be the real truth told by somebody who has faced the MRI scans, and I've had issues with catheters, stuff like that, stupid things, injections, white coat syndrome. It's all sorts of things that I've been through and people I know have been through, all the gaslighting and everything. I want an open talking blog that I can put out where people can listen and understand that they're not alone and that there are other people out there who can understand the suffering that they are going through themselves and offer help and show that they are not alone in this fight that they are fighting, the fight of their lives, which is multiple sclerosis and chronic illness in general.

The reason that I have been using a lot of AI in my writings is that my spelling and punctuation and sentencing structure is out of this world. Unfortunately, AI changes my words and the very construct I am talking about and it sort of sanitizes everything to the point of why you are not really helping me. So everything is from now on going to be non AI. Yeah, I know. I have just found out AI is holding me back not helping me forwards in my blog and in my thinking and in my writing. AI is a good tool but unfortunately it isn't something that I find that will help me with the words that I want to put on paper as my words are all unapologetic and I don't want it sanitized anymore. I'm fed up with being kept quiet.

Still, three eye-atlas or whatever has gone past and... well, I suppose we're gonna wait for the gas tail to cover us in magic fairy dust. But we weren't invaded by more awning aliens and we didn't see any more moon or weird probes or anything strange. So I guess it's a big nothing burger. Well, that's what I thought it was and I tried to do some experimentation on my body and I've still got multiple sclerosis and I haven't become 5D or anything weird or strange. This is quite unreal. It'd be quite a lot of people who've had their paradigm smashed by people who say things that just really never pan out. Sad really.

It's Friday afternoon and the sun has actually come out for a change and I'm looking out the window and it's still, well, bluish sky and some nice big white puffy clouds. It seems that the storms in the southwest are passing over. Yes, it's been very cold. It has caused me many problems, but there we go. I was thinking about getting the three-wheeled trolley of death out to go to the local voodoo voodoo-woodoo shop, but I thought, nah, what's the point?

No, my luck, it's gonna start raining. Oh, and the battery update, the battery is well. They're not lasting very well. It seems charge them up fully, next day they're down to 75% overnight. Oh dear me, I'll be glad when they do batteries that actually do what they say on the label. That will make a great change. Anyway, that's me gone. My brain fog has hit me so hard and I'm having sort of weird issues with all the other symptoms I'm having to do with this other thing I'm going through and to be fair, I'll be glad when that's all sorted out, but it is taking quite a time as everything usually does because you don't just go in asking about what you think you've got wrong with you, you've got to know what you've got and then you've got to research it and then the doctors you've got to explain to them you've researched it, bloody, bloody, blah and the doctor looked at you as though saying, well you shouldn't be researching it on the internet and then what does he do? Because he looks at it upon Google. Yeah, that's a bit sort of weird, isn't it?

Still I've got to say I've got some very good doctors at the moment and that's what counts isn't it? But there we go, have a good weekend until I can post again and not using AI you're going to find lots of mistakes everywhere. Ha ha, it should be good fun.

Warlock Dark Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

So well we have a comet flying through the skies and it will soon be passing Earth. I wonder what everybody is thinking. There must be people thinking, "Ooh, is it a comet? Ooh, is it something more? Is it an alien spaceship or an alien probe from somewhere? What is happening? All these things and more we're going to look at now in my really weird world. Just think this could be a giant nothing burger and all those people who've been spouting the end of the world and aliens aliens oh dear we're going to be upgraded we're going to have our bodies and minds upgraded. Oh well it's far from science fiction it could be science facts. Who really does know? I don't. Does anybody really know all these people who pertain to the experts don't really know either so I'm looking forward to Atlas coming past seeing what happens. Seeing if things change in my paradigm shift. So according to many, I'm going to have a consciousness upgrade. I don't know what that means, but if it can help my MS, I look forward to that. Others have said, "Oh, it's a harbinger of doom, gloom and death from some unknown race coming to invade us." That's what all these orbs are. We're seeing everywhere in Earth these days. I personally am yet to have seen a drone, but I have seen some of the black triangles over the past 20 or 30 or 40 years that people have been proclaiming and seeing. And I've also seen blacked out helicopters as well, back in the 80s. But I guess that's all government stuff. And hey, ho, we're on about aliens. Or could it be other dimensional creatures? I don't call them creatures. I call them, well, let's see. Brothers and sisters from another dimension. Brothers and sisters from another dimension. Brothers and sisters from another planet. Or brothers and sisters who we can't see, who are already here, who walk amongst us. I mean, how cool is that? But have they got our good intent? Hmm, this is what I ask myself. Do they have our good intent? Or are they not very nice people? So, being born in the 1950s, yes, I'd seen loads of the old 1950s, 60s, 70s early UFO movies and pictures of aliens. I researched UFOs actively in the 70s and early 80s and basically most of the stories that came to me were just odd lights. But I did have a few really, really interesting cases that I worked on. One, let me say in the early 90s, led to a set of things happening in my life that would change my life beyond belief. And when I told that story to one person, it blew their mind and then other people got involved and then let's just say things got completely out of control. Now, I find myself in the realisation in my mind, what is real and what is not real? Having multiple sclerosis and having this neurological disease puts me in this . And I find that very, very interesting why they are trying to sanitise everything. And if I had a tin foil hat on, I'd be thinking, why are all these disclosure movies coming out at the moment? Doesn't that make you think, just like my father would say? So yeah, 3i Atlas could be a big nothing burger, and well, it's still going to change people's perceptions, is it not? Just the comic coming past, such a close range, will change people's paradigms? I think so. You know, I think it's great to be talking about things like comics and talking about dimensional beings, talking about what could be out there. And what's amongst us as well is even more wonderful, just to think we could have extra terrestrial space brothers and sisters or dimensional brothers and sisters amongst us. That is so mind blowing. It really makes you think. And here's me being thinking, well, if there was another race that lived with us on this marble, this so-called blue marble, why would they have to be on the earth? Why couldn't they be under the earth, under the sea? The oceans are massive. I bet those places we haven't even visited on this planet as well. So you know, you just can't say we are the only living thing anywhere. I have a lot of belief, and I really do believe people should start reading the book of Enoch. Yes, the book that was taken out of the Bible, or even the Ethiopian Bible, or yes, the Ethiopian Bible. I think that would be something to read as well. And start looking at the Sumerian texts and look into Glubeo Techie and places like that and start questioning everything. Just taking what people say as true, questioning, answering. You know, what you used to do, not just taking every word as blind truth. That is why I follow no religion and I don't follow any type of politics because I would like to be more clear thinking than that. I want clear answers in my mind about how, why, what, and who we really are. They are the deeper questions. And being so close to death that I have been and having all these weird things happen to me over all my years, I really do start to wonder what is going on and are we seeing something happening that is a once in a lifetime changing event going to occur. That's what I ask myself. I think am I seeing history changing to the points where in thousands of years time they will look back and say that was man's biggest turning point. To be honest, I've got my tinfoil hat on again. You know, I don't believe in the moon landings. I think they are false. I don't believe we've been to the moon. I know, I might sound contentious, but in all the films and everything I've seen, everything looks fake. But that's neither here nor there. I started all this off thinking one thing and now I'm thinking another. So yeah, all these UAPs, norms or whatever, what are they, where are they from? Are they from Russia, China, America, Britain, who? No one really truly knows. But maybe one day we'll find out and maybe we'll all be shocked. And by then maybe there'll be a new world order. I don't know. I don't know what the order's going to be like. But you can guarantee history changing events are just around the corner people. And after these holidays I think we're going to see the biggest changes we've ever, ever ever seen. So sending everybody peace-healing, love and light whether you want it or not.

Warlock Dark Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

Rain, Kittens, Orbs, and the Question of Sanity

The rain came down like it had a personal grudge.

Not a polite drizzle. Not that apologetic British mist that says sorry as it dampens your jacket. This was proper biblical nonsense drains overflowing, gutters giving up, the kind of rain that makes you laugh and think, Well then… water shortage this summer, obviously. Humanoids are marvellous at panicking about drought while actively floating away.

I woke around 4:30am to what can only be described as a purring industrial estate. One kitten asleep on my head. Another wedged into my neck and beard like it had taken out a long‑term lease. Engines running. Vibrations everywhere. If cats are supposed to be aloof, these two missed the memo and went straight for emotional blackmail.

Then came the inevitable.

Kitten. Christmas tree. Gravity.

Yes — the tree ended up on the floor. No — the kitten did not care. In fact, she looked smug. Decorations everywhere, tinsel hanging like festive entrails. We laughed because the alternative was crying, and crying before breakfast feels a bit ambitious.

Looking Up (and Not Seeing Much)

I still look at the sky.

According to the internet, it should be crawling with orbs, UAPs, UFOs, visitors popping in like it’s a motorway service station. I look up and see clouds, rain, and the occasional star when the southwest decides to be generous. No glowing ambassadors from beyond. Either I need new glasses or I’m simply not on the invite list.

That said, I do see strange things sometimes. Flickers. Patterns. Moments that make me stop and think, Hang on… what was that? And that’s where the internal interrogation starts:

Am I seeing something genuinely odd? Or am I seeing reality through a nervous system that’s been joyfully sabotaged?

I live with multiple sclerosis. I live with brain fog. I live with an autonomic system that behaves like it’s freelancing without supervision. When that’s your baseline, you don’t get the luxury of trusting perception — but you also don’t get to dismiss it outright. You’re stuck in the grey bit, where certainty goes to die.

The Medical Cul‑de‑Sac

I did the neurological tour. Thoroughly.

Scans. Clinics. Explanations that manage to be both technical and utterly hollow. MS can do this. MS can do that. Yes, thank you I’ve noticed. Useful, but spiritually about as nourishing as a hospital biscuit.

So I widened the lens.

Philosophy. Consciousness. Vallée. Keel. The trickster nature of reality. Not because I want to declare myself special or enlightened — but because pretending the questions don’t exist feels like intellectual cowardice.

Enter AI, Wearing a High‑Vis Jacket

Asking AI was… an experience. it tried to sanitise everything.

Dietary help? Genuinely useful. When your body treats half the food supply like a personal attack, clarity matters.

Spiritually? Absolutely allergic to nuance.

Everything funnelled straight into pathology. Everything gently but firmly steered toward “this is all in your head, dear.” Not curiosity compliance. Ask a question about perception and suddenly you’re wrapped in digital bubble wrap with a warning label.

Here’s the blunt bit: AI doesn’t think. It reflects.

It reflects liability fears, cultural assumptions, and the worldview of its programmers. Which means spirituality gets treated like a software bug, and lived experience gets flattened into symptom management. That’s not wisdom that’s risk assessment pretending to care.

So Am I Mad, Then?

Let’s not mince words.

MS makes your interface with reality noisy. Signals overlap. The brain flags nonsense as urgent and sometimes ignores what actually matters. That’s biology, not a moral failure.

But and this is where everyone gets lazy neurological explanation does not automatically equal existential erasure.

Not everything is meaningless. Not everything is a cosmic message either.

The real work is discernment, which is far less glamorous than revelation.

Questioning your own experiences isn’t madness it’s grounding. Wondering whether something is neurological, psychological, or something else entirely is not delusion it’s honesty. Certainty without humility, on the other hand, is where things go properly sideways.

I don’t claim gifts. I don’t claim answers. I claim decades of odd experiences, a damaged nervous system, a functioning bullshit detector, and the right to sit with uncertainty without being patronised.

Where I’ve Ended Up (So Far)

I trust neither blind belief nor blind dismissal.

Doctors don’t have the full picture. AI definitely doesn’t. Spiritual circles often disappear up their own arse. Hard materialism leaves too much unexplained.

Reality, inconveniently, refuses to be tidy.

So I keep one foot on the ground, one eye on the sky, and both hands firmly on my own nonsense especially on bad days.

Some days are pain, fog, and unreality. Some days are kittens, rain, and laughter.

I send peace, healing, love, and light anyway to everyone not because everything’s fine, but because choosing bitterness would be the final indignity.

If this season means anything at all, it’s this: More days turning into more days. Still here. Still asking.

That’ll do.

Warlock Dark Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

Picture this:

I’m rolling through reality on my trusty power chair a chrome beast with more personality than most people I know. Long hair streaming behind me like a warning sign, beard untamed, sunglasses big enough to block out the Ministry of Nonsense. Cowboy hat perched low, casting a permanent shadow over my don’t-give-a-toss expression, the battered leather of my biker jacket carrying the stench of rebellion and spilled coffee.

The world around me? Absolutely barking. Neon jellyfish floating past in the air, tentacles gently brushing the hats off unsuspecting pensioners. Pavements shifting under a river of rainbow tiles, each slab humming like it’s auditioning for Pink Floyd. Traffic lights blink in impossible colours—ultraviolet, emotional blue, a shade of green that smells like marmite and disappointment.

A pigeon with the head of Alan Watts tries to sell me spiritual enlightenment in exchange for my last Jaffa Cake. Dogs walk people, old buses sprout daisy wheels, and a marching band of mutant toads play “God Save the Queen” backwards as the soundtrack to this feverish promenade.

I glide on, parting crowds of goggle-eyed normies, the universe distorting in my rearview mirror. “Keep rolling, cowboy,” the universe whispers, “the weirdness isn’t going to witness itself.”

Warlock Dark Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

Well, it’s another Saturday. Or is it Wednesday? Could be 2017 for all I know – time stopped making sense around the fifth episode of brain fog this morning. The weekend’s here, apparently, and so am I. Unfortunately.

Picture this: I’m sitting here, staring at my endless to-do list, so knackered my spoons have buggered off and left a note saying, “Back in a decade, maybe.” Energy: zero. Motivation: less than zero. The only thing working properly is my ability to screw things up and get it all wrong, which, let’s be honest, I’ve always excelled at.

Sometimes I think the best option is just to switch myself off and power down for a few weeks, like a dodgy PC. Not because I’m dramatic (okay, a bit), but because MS reality is like living in permanent airplane mode – you’re still technically on, but none of the good stuff’s working.

The fog in my head’s so thick, I need a lighthouse to find my cup of tea. My eyes are so light-sensitive, I’m basically a reverse vampire, and my hearing is putting on a pantomime of its own. Tinnitus is mercifully on its lunch break, but the vagus nerve is still auditioning for Cirque du Soleil: pins, needles, left jaw spasms, the works. My hands and feet are staging a static electricity rebellion.

It’s funny how time just morphs from one week to another, and then into another year, another decade. Memory? Gone. Smells trigger more nostalgia than actual memories now, which is probably for the best. Who wants to remember the good old days anyway? They probably weren’t that good, I just had more spoons.

Honestly, I haven’t felt this rough since Thatcher was on the telly and petrol was a quid. For me, Christmas is just more days blending into more days, full of pain, unreality, and brain malfunction. But hey, happy holidays to the rest of you – may your synapses fire as intended and your spoons stay polished.

Sending peace, healing, love, and light to everyone, regardless of your state of mental decay. Don’t hold your breath for a blog post – I’m working on the “spoken blog” tech, but brain fog has other ideas. Maybe by next Christmas I’ll have it sorted. Or maybe I’ll forget I ever started. Who knows? Not me.

Cheers.

If AI could recommend a solution, it would say: “Have you tried turning yourself off and on again?” Sadly, I’m stuck on a loop, but if anyone invents a reboot button for MS, I’ll be first in the queue. Until then, it’s just me, my spoons (missing in action), and the eternal question: “What day is it again?”

Warlock Dark Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

So the one thing I probably haven’t ranted about properly is diet. Not “clean eating,” not “wellness,” not some influencer nonsense where you heal your soul with chia seeds and positive affirmations. I mean survival. Real, grim, clinical survival.

For chronic illness, diet isn’t “important.” It’s the entire game board.

Over the years my diet has done a full 180, then another 180, then probably fell off the axis altogether. I had no idea just how badly my conditions were messing with my gut until everything started reacting like I’d swallowed a live grenade.

It turns out simple food can flip my system into meltdown. The wrong thing at the wrong time can set off my auto-immune vagus nerve, send my MS into overdrive, and have me sprinting for the toilet in my power chair on full throttle like I’m in some Paralympic drag race.

That’s not a metaphor. That’s Tuesday.

So I’ve ended up on a brutally strict diet. Not for fun. Not for aesthetics. For damage control.

I’m now at the point where even the smell of certain foods can trigger my gut. One whiff and the body screams: “Evacuate now.” So yes, I am that person who can’t sit near someone eating certain things without mentally plotting escape routes to the nearest accessible loo.

Is it dignified? No. Is it real? Absolutely.

Meanwhile, out in space: 3I Atlas and the cosmic joke

While my gut is staging small rebellions, somewhere out there 3I Atlas is gliding through the universe like it owns the place.

Is it a comet? Is it a UFO? Is it a frozen rock, minding its business while humans project their midlife crises onto it?

Using Occam’s razor, it’s a comet. A lump of ancient ice and rock with a flashy tail. Nothing personal. No message from the gods. Just celestial debris doing its orbital thing.

But here’s the fun part: no matter what it is, it’s going to mess with people’s heads.

If it’s “just” a comet, people who secretly wanted a mothership will have to swallow that disappointment along with their supermarket meal deals. If it turns out to be something stranger, the “it’s all nonsense” crowd will have their smug little worldviews cracked open.

Either way, paradigms get nudged. People think a bit. Or panic a bit. Or make 600 TikToks about it. Same energy.

Me personally? Somewhere in the back of my already scrambled brain, I quite like the idea that 3I Atlas is an alien AI probe cruising through our solar system, doing exactly what we do when we send our little machines off to other worlds: scanning, photographing, logging, and then buggering off again.

Science fiction? Maybe. Science fact one day? Also maybe.

For now, it’s just another cosmic object passing by while I try to remember what day it is and whether I took my meds.

Afternoon AI: Brain Fog, Probes & the Simulation

By the afternoon, my brain usually feels like it’s being held in a clamp. You know that tightening pressure where it’s not quite pain, but it’s definitely not right? That.

Trying to write or even talk properly sets off brain fog so dense it might as well be its own weather system. Words slip, thoughts fracture, and the exhaustion rolls in like another storm front.

So what do we do? We start thinking about AI, obviously. Because that’s what rational people do when their nervous system is on fire: they start speculating about alien machine intelligence flying past Saturn.

Here’s the thought: if 3I Atlas was an alien AI, it would still make more sense than half the systems running this planet.

At least an alien probe would have a purpose. Collect data. Observe. Move on. Meanwhile, I’m here in Rusty One, planning a trip to the hospital so someone can plug me into a machine and see what else in my wiring has gone sideways.

We build probes. We dream about other probes watching us. And here I am: a human meat-probe with faulty electrics, trying to document the whole sorry mess on a blog.

If that’s not peak simulation energy, I don’t know what is.

Kittens, numb hands & blood I can’t feel

Back on Earth, the kittens are having the time of their lives.

They treat my hands like a medieval training ground. Claws out, teeth in, full chaos. And here’s the twist: I can’t feel half of it.

I can see the scratches. I can see the blood. But sensation? Not really.

My hands look like they’ve lost a knife fight. If I didn’t have MS and neuropathy, I imagine they’d be in absolute agony.

So yes, there’s a very dark part of me that thinks: “Maybe it’s a good thing they’re numb.”

Is that vicious? A bit. Is it honest? Completely.

This is the weird territory chronic illness drags you into. You end up grateful for broken systems because they spare you from other kinds of pain. You learn to say things that sound nasty, but they’re just the truth from where you’re sitting.

And where I’m sitting is in a power chair, covered in kitten scratches I can’t fully feel, trying to work out whether to laugh or cry. Usually I pick laughter. It hurts less.

Winter sun, dead batteries & the long months ahead

The winter sun creeps through the window like it’s half-committed. A bit of light, a hint of warmth, then back behind the clouds to leave you in the cold again. Typical.

I sit here in a quiet, dark room and wonder what the next few months are going to look like.

How harsh will the weather be? How badly will the cold chew through my energy, my nerves, and my wheelchair battery?

Because let’s be clear: cold doesn’t just sap people. It kills mobility aids too. A drained wheelchair battery in winter is not a quirky inconvenience. It’s expensive, stressful, and potentially dangerous.

I’ve got hospital trips looming. Machines to be plugged into. Rusty One to get me there. A brain that tires too fast. A body that negotiates with gravity on a daily basis.

So I do what I always do:

I sit. I watch the light. I listen to the kittens tearing about. I feel nothing and everything at the same time.

These are the thoughts of Dark Warlock sitting alone in a quiet room, overthinking comets, guts, kittens, and the next cold front.

Not inspirational. Not pretty. Just real.

Warlock Dark Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ