Multiple sclerosis is My Living Hell

brain fog

All posts tagged brain fog by Multiple sclerosis is My Living Hell
  • Posted on

    🎗️ This Blog is a space for honest conversations about my personal experiences with MS, mental health, and the weird paranormal, liminal, and everything in between. I’m not a doctor, therapist, or expert in the unexplained; I’m just someone sharing my story and offering solidarity. If you’re struggling, please reach out to a trusted friend, support group, or professional. And if the weird stuff sparks your curiosity, remember: stay open-minded, but always prioritise your well-being.🎗️

    please remember I suffer with severe cognitive dysfunction, and use AI to proof read and help solve this issue so you can understand it

    Welcome to the first My Living Hell podcast episode 1.

    The first My Living Hell podcast is finally here! I ramble about Multiple Sclerosis, life, personal experiences and whatever else wanders into the conversation. Raw, honest, occasionally dark and definitely not polished into oblivion.

    ☠ Please take note of the trigger warning before listening. ☠

    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.)
    🎗️ This Is Not A Blog About MS This Is My Life With MS 🎗️

    Tumblr is @livingwithmsblog twitter@livingwithms email warlock@mylivinghell.co.uk
    𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ
    enter image description here

  • Posted on

    🎗️ This Blog is a space for honest conversations about my personal experiences with MS, mental health, and the weird paranormal, liminal, and everything in between. I’m not a doctor, therapist, or expert in the unexplained; I’m just someone sharing my story and offering solidarity. If you’re struggling, please reach out to a trusted friend, support group, or professional. And if the weird stuff sparks your curiosity, remember: stay open-minded, but always prioritise your well-being.🎗️

    please remember I suffer with severe cognitive dysfunction, and use AI to proof read and help solve this issue so you can understand it

    Well it's Tuesday morning and we are heading towards autumn that time of the year of cold rain, fog, cold rain, fog and horrible weather. And I'm wishing all readers of this blog a very happy good morning afternoon evening no matter wherever you may be in the world or universe.

    My Living Hell podcast lives

    Well, the My Living Hell podcast lives. I've done all the tests, everything looks good, so we will be doing podcasts shortly. So that's excellent news, and I will be covering a wide range of subjects, not just multiple sclerosis and mental health, but also things to do with the paranormal and things people don't tell you about when you have MS, which is rather interesting.

    Myelin Maniacs

    Myelin Maniacs, well today, Tuesday, it will be the first recording. Yes, I have it on Great Authority from Stigsy that tonight we go and do some recordings for the podcast to be released when Stigsy has Done what he has to do to it. So in the next few weeks be looking on the Myelin Maniacs website and you might see the first podcasts. Yes, they will be coming soon and I shall let you know on the My Living Hell when these podcasts will be. It is going to be quite exciting and I'm looking forward to it and I'm going to be a co-host and I really am looking forward to putting my point of view, my personal point of view over and listening to other points of view and gaining understanding from other people about this strange illness that we seem to have that nobody really knows how we got it, nobody really knows how you cure it but it's there and we have to make the best of things.

    So, here is a poem for Autumn or the Vernal Equinox.

    Equinox, MS & the Fog

    Tomorrow the seasons change. Autumn arrives with its usual dramatic entrance cold mornings, darker evenings, leaves falling everywhere as though the trees have finally had enough of life too. And then there's me. Still here. Still dealing with MS. Still trying to remember why the hell I walked into the kitchen. Brain fog. That wonderful little gift from MS where your brain apparently decides to close the office early without telling management. You know that feeling… You know you've got something to say, you know you knew what it was, you can almost reach it… And then nothing. Gone. Probably somewhere with my missing socks. The equinox is supposed to be about balance. Day and night standing equal. Funny thing is, MS doesn't seem particularly interested in balance. One day you're functioning, the next your body appears to have filed a formal complaint against you. Fatigue. Pain. Brain fog. The ridiculous uncertainty of not knowing what tomorrow is going to throw at you. And yet… the seasons keep changing. Summer quietly disappears. Autumn takes over. Winter waits around the corner like some bastard who knows you're coming. But perhaps there's something worth remembering in all this. The trees don't apologise for losing their leaves. They don't call themselves failures. They don't stare at the branches and wonder why they're not still green. They simply let go. And perhaps that's something those of us living with MS need to remember. Some days we'll have more to give. Some days we won't. Some days the brain fog will roll in so thick you couldn't find your arse with both hands and a map. And that's okay. Tomorrow night, the darkness will be a little longer. But darkness isn't the end of the story. It's just another part of it. So here's to the equinox. To autumn. To surviving another season with MS breathing down our necks. To the days when the brain works… and the days when it clearly has gone down the pub without telling us. And most importantly here's to still being here. Still fighting. Still laughing when we can. Still swearing when necessary. Still telling MS: “You're not getting the last word.” Not today. Not tomorrow. And certainly not while I've still got enough brain fog to write the bloody story.

    Still, sending everybody peace, healing, love and light. and wishing everybody a happy autumn equinox when it arrives tomorrow. And let's hope that the weather will be fair and not foul. Oh, and a sudden thought, I'm going to be uploading a lot of music and it's all about MS and the effects, but it's done in sort of psychedelic weird lyrics and stuff. It's, well, come out of my head and gone into a music programme. So I will be posting some more up and that might be quite interesting.

    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.)
    This Is Not A Blog About MS 🎗️ This Is My Life With MS 🎗️

    Tumblr is @livingwithmsblog twitter@livingwithms email warlock@mylivinghell.co.uk
    𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ
    enter image description here

  • Posted on

    🎗️ This Blog is a space for honest conversations about my personal experiences with MS, mental health, and the weird paranormal, liminal, and everything in between. I’m not a doctor, therapist, or expert in the unexplained; I’m just someone sharing my story and offering solidarity. If you’re struggling, please reach out to a trusted friend, support group, or professional. And if the weird stuff sparks your curiosity, remember: stay open-minded, but always prioritise your well-being.🎗️

    please remember I suffer with severe cognitive dysfunction, and use AI to proof read and help solve this issue so you can understand it

    Congratulations on Your Multiple Sclerosis!

    Thank you for choosing MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS™.

    You didn't actually choose it, obviously.

    It arrived without being ordered, cannot be returned, has no warranty and customer services appear to consist mainly of someone saying:

    “We'll see you again in six months.”

    Your MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS™ package may contain:

    • One unreliable nervous system
    • Several mysterious symptoms
    • A bladder with independent political ambitions
    • Brain fog
    • Fatigue
    • Random pain
    • Questionable balance
    • Various pharmaceutical products
    • Approximately 47 hospital letters
    • And one leaflet featuring suspiciously cheerful people walking through a meadow

    Batteries not included.

    Actually, batteries may have been the first fucking thing to go.

    Welcome to the unofficial instruction manual.


    IMPORTANT SAFETY INFORMATION

    Before operating your body, please read these instructions carefully.

    Failure to follow the instructions will make absolutely no difference because your nervous system isn't reading them either.

    Symptoms vary enormously between people with MS, so your particular model may behave completely differently from somebody else's.

    This is apparently considered a feature rather than a manufacturing defect.


    STEP 1: ASSEMBLE YOUR SYMPTOMS

    Tools Not Included

    Upon opening your MS package, you may discover a seemingly random selection of components.

    These can include:

    Fatigue Battery permanently displaying 14%.

    Brain Fog Words may disappear without warning.

    Tremor Coffee transportation system compromised.

    Spasticity Muscles operating under their own management.

    Pain May appear in locations where absolutely nothing appears to be wrong.

    Dizziness Floor and ceiling occasionally exchange responsibilities.

    Bladder Problems Warning system may activate approximately four seconds before catastrophe.

    Numbness Useful when you don't want sensation.

    Less useful when you actually fucking do.

    IMPORTANT:

    Your symptoms may change, disappear, return, mutate or invite several friends around without prior notice.

    Do not attempt to understand this.

    Neurologists have machines for that and they're still scratching their heads.


    STEP 2: IGNORE THE “INVISIBLE ILLNESS” COMMENTS

    Your MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS™ model may look deceptively normal from the outside.

    This can cause members of the public to malfunction.

    Common error messages include:

    “But you look fine!”

    Thank you.

    My nervous system will be delighted to hear that.

    “You don't look disabled.”

    Excellent. I'll inform the lesions.

    “Everyone gets tired.”

    Yes.

    And everyone gets headaches.

    That doesn't mean everyone has a fucking brain tumour.

    “You were alright yesterday.”

    Correct.

    Yesterday was yesterday.

    This is apparently how time works.

    “Have you tried thinking positively?”

    No.

    I've been deliberately thinking negatively because apparently that's what destroys myelin.

    Thank God you've arrived.

    Recommended response:

    Smile.

    Nod.

    Imagine hitting them with the inspirational leaflet.

    Continue with your day.


    STEP 3: ACCEPT THAT YOUR BODY IS NOW A HAUNTED HOUSE

    Welcome home.

    Lights flicker.

    Things creak.

    Doors don't work properly.

    Strange noises occur at 3 a.m.

    Occasionally something touches you when absolutely nothing is there.

    Congratulations.

    You are now living inside Neurological Amityville.

    Random burning sensation?

    Ghost.

    Electric shock down your spine?

    Ghost.

    Foot suddenly feels freezing despite being perfectly warm?

    Definitely ghost.

    Leg starts vibrating?

    Poltergeist.

    Mystery stabbing pain in your left arse cheek at 2:17 a.m.?

    We don't discuss what lives in the basement.

    The important thing is not to panic.

    Eventually you become accustomed to saying:

    “That's new.”

    ...and then carrying on making tea.


    STEP 4: INSTALL BRAIN FOG

    Brain Fog comes pre-installed with many MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS™ packages.

    Once activated, ordinary language may become temporarily unavailable.

    For example:

    Kettle becomes water boiling thing.

    Remote control becomes television changer.

    Refrigerator becomes cold cupboard.

    Socks become foot gloves.

    Spoon becomes food shovel.

    Names are particularly vulnerable.

    People you've known for twenty years may suddenly become:

    Mate.

    Troubleshooting:

    Q: Why did I walk into this room?

    A: Unknown.

    Q: What was I looking for?

    A: Unknown.

    Q: Why am I holding a screwdriver?

    A: Extremely unknown.

    Please return to the previous room.

    The original thought may reload automatically.


    STEP 5: ENERGY MANAGEMENT

    Your body contains a rechargeable battery.

    Unfortunately it appears to have been purchased from a suspicious bloke at a car boot sale.

    You may wake up displaying:

    27%

    Showering: -10%

    Getting dressed: -10%

    Making breakfast: -8%

    Leaving the house: -30%

    Someone saying “You should get out more”: -97%

    Battery critically low.

    Shutting down.

    IMPORTANT:

    Energy cannot necessarily be restored by simply “having a little rest.”

    Sometimes resting makes you tired.

    Sometimes sleeping makes you tired.

    Sometimes doing absolutely nothing makes you tired.

    This is known as MS fatigue.

    It is not laziness.

    It is not ordinary tiredness.

    And it cannot be cured by somebody enthusiastically suggesting yoga.


    STEP 6: INSTALL MOBILITY UPGRADES

    Your original walking equipment may occasionally become unreliable.

    Optional accessories include:

    Walking stick.

    Crutches.

    Rollator.

    Wheelchair.

    Mobility scooter.

    Grab rails.

    Anything else that helps you get through the bloody day.

    These are tools, not defeats.

    If a mobility scooter means you can travel somewhere you couldn't otherwise reach, then the scooter isn't taking away independence.

    It's giving some back.

    Also, scooters come with horns.

    Use this information responsibly.

    Or don't.

    BEEP BEEP, MOTHERFUCKERS.


    STEP 7: MANAGE THE BLADDER EXPANSION PACK

    This optional feature is apparently extremely popular with MS.

    Symptoms may include:

    Needing a wee.

    Needing a wee urgently.

    Needing a wee extremely urgently.

    Needing a wee approximately eleven seconds after you've just had a wee.

    And the legendary:

    I WAS FINE THREE SECONDS AGO.

    Experienced users eventually develop an extraordinary geographical skill.

    They do not enter a building and see:

    Restaurant.

    Shop.

    Pub.

    Cinema.

    They see:

    TOILET.

    Everything else is secondary.


    STEP 8: UPDATE YOUR DAILY PLANNER

    Old daily planner:

    9:00 — Shopping 11:00 — Coffee 1:00 — Lunch 3:00 — Visit friend 6:00 — Dinner

    MS daily planner:

    9:00 — Wake up.

    9:07 — Assess damage.

    9:15 — Reassess ambitions.

    10:30 — Recover from getting dressed.

    12:00 — Consider doing something.

    12:03 — Too ambitious.

    1:00 — Eat.

    2:00 — Forget what today's plan was.

    3:00 — Nap.

    5:00 — Wake up feeling strangely more tired.

    7:00 — Wonder where entire fucking day went.

    10:00 — Suddenly unable to sleep.

    Excellent system.


    STEP 9: PERFORM ROUTINE MAINTENANCE

    There is currently no magical service interval where somebody replaces your nervous system and sends you home good as new.

    Annoying, frankly.

    So maintenance becomes management.

    Rest when you need to.

    Move when you can.

    Use the mobility aid.

    Take the break.

    Cancel the plan.

    Accept help when you want it.

    Tell people no.

    Laugh when something is genuinely ridiculous.

    Swear when something genuinely deserves swearing at.

    You do not receive bonus points for making yourself completely fucking miserable just to prove you can still do something without assistance.


    STEP 10: TROUBLESHOOTING

    Problem: Leg not responding.

    Solution: Turn leg off and back on again.

    Unfortunately no switch has yet been located.


    Problem: Extreme fatigue.

    Solution: Rest.

    If unsuccessful, rest from resting.


    Problem: Forgotten word.

    Solution: Describe object increasingly aggressively until somebody guesses it.


    Problem: Tremor.

    Solution: Tell everybody you're auditioning as a cocktail bartender.


    Problem: Balance failure.

    Solution: Wall.


    Problem: Bladder warning.

    Solution: RUN.

    Correction:

    Move toward toilet at maximum currently available neurological speed.


    Problem: Someone says, “But you look fine.”

    Solution: System recommends sarcasm.


    STEP 11: WARRANTY INFORMATION

    Your MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS™ package comes with:

    NO WARRANTY.

    There are no refunds.

    No exchanges.

    No replacement nervous systems.

    No loyalty points.

    And apparently no customer satisfaction questionnaire.

    However...

    You may acquire several unexpected accessories along the way.

    A darker sense of humour.

    An impressive tolerance for bullshit.

    An encyclopaedic knowledge of toilets.

    An ability to appreciate good days differently.

    A community of people who understand why “I'm tired” can mean something far beyond needing an early night.

    And the ability to keep going when your body is behaving like something assembled on a Friday afternoon before a bank holiday.


    FINAL ASSEMBLY CHECK

    Are all components working?

    No.

    Have you followed the instructions?

    Mostly.

    Did it help?

    Debatable.

    Are you still here?

    Yes.

    Then congratulations.

    Assembly complete.

    Well...

    Complete-ish.

    Because MS may be part of your life.

    It may alter what you can do.

    It may alter how you do it.

    It may occasionally reduce an ordinary Tuesday to a badly written neurological sitcom.

    But you are not the faulty component.

    The disease is.

    So use the stick.

    Ride the scooter.

    Take the nap.

    Forget the word.

    Find the toilet.

    Laugh when you can.

    And when MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS™ produces another completely undocumented error...

    Consult the official troubleshooting procedure:

    “Oh, for fuck's sake. What now?”

    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.)
    ☣ This Is Not A Blog About MS This Is My Life With MS ☣

    Tumblr is @livingwithmsblog twitter@livingwithms email warlock@mylivinghell.co.uk
    𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ
    enter image description here

  • Posted on

    ⚠️ This blog shares my personal, sometimes painful experiences with MS and mental health. My intention is to speak honestly and offer solidarity—not to harm or replace professional advice. I’m not a doctor or therapist, just someone who gets how hard it can get. If you’re struggling, you’re not alone. Please reach out to a trusted friend, support group, or professional. You deserve help and hope.⚠️

    please remember I suffer with severe cognitive dysfunction, and use AI to proof read and help solve this issue so you can understand it

    25 classic MS moments turned into the world's least desirable bingo game. Dark humour, brutal honesty and no bloody prizes. Forgot why you entered a room? Tripped over absolutely nothing? Nearly wet yourself while the toilet was twelve feet away? Congratulations you've just marked another square on MS Bingo, the only game where winning feels suspiciously like losing.

    MS Bingo: The Game No One Wants to Win

    Welcome to MS Bingo the only game where the prizes include fatigue, bladder urgency, brain fog and accidentally walking into a door frame.

    No purchase necessary.

    No skill required.

    In fact, having skill may actively work against you.

    All you need is Multiple Sclerosis, a functioning sense of black humour and the emotional resilience to shout “BINGO!” while lying on the kitchen floor wondering why your left leg has resigned.

    HOW TO PLAY

    Simple.

    Read the squares.

    Every time one happens, mark it off.

    Five in a row?

    BINGO.

    Complete the entire card?

    Congratulations.

    You win absolutely fuck all.

    Except perhaps an appointment in six months and another leaflet explaining fatigue.


    THE MS BINGO CARD

    1. Forgot Why I Walked Into the Room

    You made the journey.

    You overcame the legs.

    You entered the room.

    Unfortunately, your brain forgot to come with you.

    Stand there looking confused for thirty seconds.

    Return to original room.

    Remember immediately.

    Classic.


    2. Tripped Over a Shadow

    No obstacle.

    No step.

    No loose carpet.

    Possibly not even a shadow.

    Your nervous system simply decided upright was getting repetitive.

    MARK YOUR CARD.


    3. Pretended to Be on My Phone to Hide a Tremor

    Nothing suspicious here.

    Just checking...

    erm...

    the weather.

    For seventeen minutes.

    While gripping the phone with both hands like I'm defusing a bomb.


    4. Called an Everyday Object “The Thingy”

    Could you pass me the...

    The...

    You know.

    The fucking...

    THINGY.

    Everybody knows what I mean.

    Except apparently everybody.


    5. Nearly Wet Myself Because the Toilet Was Twelve Feet Away

    To an ordinary person: twelve feet.

    To an MS bladder:

    THE NORTH FACE OF EVEREST.


    6. Walked Like I Was Drunk While Completely Sober

    Bonus point if somebody gave you the look.

    Double bonus if this happened before breakfast.


    7. Dropped Something Immediately After Picking It Up

    Pick up keys.

    Drop keys.

    Pick up keys.

    Drop keys.

    Consider simply moving house and leaving the keys where they are.


    8. Forgot Someone's Name Mid-Conversation

    You've known this person for fifteen years.

    You've attended their birthday parties.

    You've met their children.

    Today their name is:

    Mate.


    9. Bounced Off a Door frame

    Door width: perfectly adequate.

    Your trajectory: apparently calculated by a drunken satellite.


    10. Lost My Phone While Holding My Phone

    Do not laugh.

    The brain fog was conducting an investigation.

    The primary suspect was the phone.

    Which was in my hand.


    11. FREE SPACE — FATIGUE

    Naturally the centre square is fatigue.

    Because unlike normal bingo, MS gives everyone the free square whether they bloody wanted it or not.


    12. Had to Sit Down After Getting Dressed

    Getting dressed.

    A task previously considered preparation for the day.

    Now apparently the day itself.


    13. Used the Wrong Word and Just Carried On

    "Put the milk in the washing machine."

    You know what I meant.

    I know what I meant.

    The milk knows what I meant.

    Move on.


    14. Leg Suddenly Stopped Cooperating

    Left leg reporting for duty.

    Right leg:

    I'm sorry, this department is now closed.


    15. Had an Unexpected Spasm in Public

    Your body suddenly performs interpretive dance.

    Nobody asked it to.

    Least of all you.


    16. Needed a Rest After Having a Rest

    Normal person:

    "I feel refreshed."

    MS person:

    "That was exhausting."


    17. Forgot What I Was Saying Halfway Through Saying It

    I was making an excellent point about...

    ...

    ...

    Oh, fuck it.

    Next square.


    18. Tried to Pick Something Up and Somehow Kicked It Further Away

    You bend down.

    Miss.

    Kick object.

    Object travels underneath furniture.

    You stare at it.

    It stares back.

    Object wins.


    19. Bladder Gave Approximately Four Seconds' Notice

    Thank you for your generous warning.

    Next time perhaps send the notification before opening the floodgates.


    20. Had to Explain “No, I'm Not Drunk”

    Again.

    No.

    Still neurological.

    Still sober.

    Still walking like I'm returning from a three-day stag weekend.


    21. Forgot Whether I'd Taken My Medication

    Did I take it?

    I remember thinking about taking it.

    Did thinking about taking it become taking it?

    Excellent.

    Now we have Medication Schrödinger's Cat.


    22. Started a Job and Forgot What the Job Was

    Cleaning kitchen.

    Find letter.

    Read letter.

    Remember email.

    Open phone.

    See photo.

    Start looking at photos.

    Twenty minutes later you're sitting down holding a spoon with absolutely no idea how the adventure began.


    23. Laughed Because the Alternative Was Crying

    Possibly the most important square on the card.

    Not because MS is funny.

    Sometimes it absolutely isn't.

    But occasionally the sheer ridiculousness of living inside an unreliable nervous system becomes so absurd that laughter is the only sensible response left.


    24. Said “I'm Fine” While Clearly Being Held Together by Sarcasm

    The universal chronic illness translation:

    "How are you?"

    "Fine."

    Meaning:

    Three systems have failed, one leg is negotiating independence and I haven't properly slept since Tuesday, but neither of us has time for the full answer.


    25. Got BINGO Before Breakfast

    Congratulations.

    You have achieved peak Multiple Sclerosis.

    Your prize is...

    another day with Multiple Sclerosis.

    Hooray.


    THE REAL POINT OF MS BINGO

    Behind the joke, every square represents something that can be genuinely frustrating, humiliating, exhausting or frightening.

    Cognitive problems are real.

    Mobility problems are real.

    Tremor is real.

    Bladder dysfunction is very bloody real.

    Fatigue isn't laziness.

    And when your body stops doing things you've spent your entire life taking for granted, laughing about it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

    Sometimes dark humour is simply refusing to let MS have ownership of every miserable moment.

    If my nervous system insists on turning life into a ridiculous game...

    I reserve the right to take the piss out of the rules.

    BINGO.

    peace healing love and light to all our readers of this blog thank you

    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.)
    ☣ This Is Not A Blog About MS This Is My Life With MS ☣

    twitter@livingwithms - warlock@mylivinghell.co.uk
    enter image description here

  • Posted on

    ⚠️ This blog shares my personal, sometimes painful experiences with MS and mental health. My intention is to speak honestly and offer solidarity—not to harm or replace professional advice. I’m not a doctor or therapist, just someone who gets how hard it can get. If you’re struggling, you’re not alone. Please reach out to a trusted friend, support group, or professional. You deserve help and hope.⚠️

    please remember I suffer with severe cognitive dysfunction, and use AI to proof read and help solve this issue so you can understand it

    Dear Past Me: Here’s What MS Will Actually Be Like

    Dear Past Me,

    Sit down.

    Actually, enjoy being able to do that without calculating whether you'll be able to get back up again.

    We need to talk.

    You're going to hear two words:

    Multiple Sclerosis.

    And you're going to be frightened.

    You're going to imagine wheelchairs.

    You're going to imagine hospitals.

    You're going to Google things you absolutely should not Google at two o'clock in the morning.

    But here's what nobody will properly explain.

    MS won't simply be one enormous dramatic thing.

    It will be thousands of tiny ridiculous things.

    So I'm writing from the future with some useful information.

    You're welcome.


    YOU THINK FATIGUE MEANS “TIRED”

    Oh, sweet summer child.

    You think tired means:

    "I could do with an early night."

    That's adorable.

    MS fatigue is more like somebody has quietly removed your batteries, filled your bloodstream with concrete and increased Earth's gravity by approximately 300%.

    You can wake up tired.

    You can become tired from showering.

    You can become tired from getting dressed.

    You can even become tired from resting because apparently resting is now an activity.

    People will suggest getting more sleep.

    Try not to kill them.


    YOU'RE GOING TO FORGET WORDS

    Not complicated words.

    Not photosynthesis or existentialism.

    Normal words.

    Spoon.

    One day you'll be standing in the kitchen saying:

    "Where's the... you know... food shovel?"

    And the terrifying thing is that you'll know exactly what the object is.

    Your brain simply won't provide the label.

    You'll eventually become fluent in a new language called:

    THINGY.


    YOUR BODY WILL BECOME A HAUNTED HOUSE

    Random pain.

    Buzzing.

    Burning.

    Tingling.

    Numbness.

    Electric shocks.

    Muscles moving without permission.

    Parts of you feeling freezing when they're warm.

    Other parts feeling like they're on fire when they're not.

    You'll eventually stop saying:

    "What the hell was that?"

    You'll just say:

    “MS.”

    It's quicker.


    YOUR BLADDER WILL BETRAY YOU

    Remember when needing the toilet was merely a suggestion?

    Enjoy that memory.

    Future bladder communication will occasionally resemble:

    YOU HAVE FOUR SECONDS.

    You will develop an extraordinary superpower.

    Whenever you enter an unfamiliar building you will immediately locate:

    1. The toilet.
    2. The route to the toilet.
    3. Obstacles between yourself and the toilet.
    4. Potential witnesses should the mission fail.

    Jason Bourne has nothing on you.


    PEOPLE WILL SAY ASTONISHINGLY STUPID THINGS

    "But you look fine."

    "Everyone gets tired."

    "Have you tried yoga?"

    "Maybe you need to think positively."

    You'll discover that chronic illness apparently grants random strangers honorary medical degrees.

    Do not worry.

    Eventually your sarcasm becomes extremely efficient.


    YOU WILL GRIEVE

    This bit isn't funny.

    There will be times when you miss the old you.

    The person who could simply decide to do something and then...

    do it.

    Without calculating energy.

    Without planning toilets.

    Without wondering whether the legs will cooperate.

    Without needing recovery time afterwards.

    You'll grieve abilities.

    Plans.

    Freedom.

    Spontaneity.

    Parts of your old identity.

    And that's alright.

    Because grief doesn't mean you've surrendered.

    It means something mattered.


    BUT SOMETHING ELSE WILL HAPPEN

    You'll change.

    Not into one of those inspirational poster people standing heroically on a mountain at sunset.

    Fuck that.

    You'll become stranger.

    Darker.

    Funnier.

    More adaptable.

    You'll learn that independence doesn't necessarily mean doing everything without help.

    You'll learn that mobility aids aren't surrender.

    You'll learn that cancelling plans isn't a moral failure.

    You'll discover people who understand without needing the entire bloody explanation.

    You'll become remarkably good at finding humour in situations that objectively shouldn't be funny. Because sometimes the choice really is:

    Laugh.

    Cry.

    Or do both while desperately searching for the nearest accessible toilet.


    YOU WILL STILL BE YOU

    This is the part I wish somebody had told us.

    MS will change things.

    Some changes will be small.

    Some may be enormous.

    But diagnosis doesn't suddenly erase the person underneath.

    You're still going to laugh.

    Still swear.

    Still love.

    Still get angry.

    Still make terrible decisions.

    Still have ridiculous ideas.

    Still find things beautiful.

    Still be interested in things that have absolutely nothing to do with Multiple Sclerosis.

    You aren't going to become MS: The Person.

    You're still you.

    Just with considerably more neurological bullshit.


    So, Past Me...

    When those words finally arrive, you're allowed to be frightened.

    You're allowed to be furious.

    You're allowed to grieve.

    But don't assume the story ends there.

    It doesn't.

    It simply becomes a much stranger book.

    And one day you'll discover something nobody mentioned at diagnosis:

    You can take something utterly shit and still laugh directly in its face.

    Love,

    Future You

    (Still here. Still fighting. Still swearing.)

    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.)
    ☣ This Is Not A Blog About MS This Is My Life With MS ☣

    twitter@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk
    enter image description here

  • Posted on

    ⚠️ This blog shares my personal, sometimes painful experiences with MS and mental health. My intention is to speak honestly and offer solidarity—not to harm or replace professional advice. I’m not a doctor or therapist, just someone who gets how hard it can get. If you’re struggling, you’re not alone. Please reach out to a trusted friend, support group, or professional. You deserve help and hope.⚠️

    please remember I suffer with severe cognitive dysfunction, and use AI to proof read and help solve this issue so you can understand it

    Well hello, and a massive welcome to all my readers whether you’re humanoid, NHI, or otherwise.

    The past few weeks have been nothing short of tumultuous! I have so much ground to cover, so let's break it down into smaller pieces.

    Health & Wellness Updates: The Hard Stuff

    First, an update on Albertine's finger is good news she doesn't need the finger removed after all! Apparently, the part that was sewn on was okay. While the total tip of her finger is gone for good (I suspect a hedgehog or some rodent claimed the rest in the bushes!), it’s been a very trying couple of weeks overall.

    On my end, I’ve driven more over these last three weeks than I have in probably eight years! It proves that when I'm feeling good, I can still do it. But let me tell you about the contrast: when I got home after those drives, the brain fog and stress attacks were mind-boggling. How I long remember my old days of riding my motorcycle or trike through the Southwest of England! Those fun times and all the camaraderie shared with Albertine on our rides through Cornwall and Devon what an amazing time it was.

    The Autonomic Dysfunction Puzzle

    I recently received a letter from the hospital that dropped a major bomb: they suspect I might have autonomic dysfunction. Honestly, how many times have I gone to the doctor detailing these symptoms? And speaking of listening... it’s frustrating. It's only now, after ten years and much prompting, that the medical staff are looking into everything.

    I feel completely unheard. Having put together evidence over a decade while being ignored and gaslit was exhausting. But here’s where the AI came in! Years ago, I used a medical AI to input all my symptoms, and it suggested: Autonomic dysfunction severe with a histamine issue. Since managing this diet has been tough, I've been committed to avoiding any food that can trigger a reaction.

    It makes me feel pissed off like nobody listened for ten years! Why do we need constant scans and needles? All of it seems focused on mapping my progressive MS, but not helping the other symptoms that come along with it. Sometimes, you just want someone to say, "Leave him alone; let him rot."

    However, I also get that the NHS is stretched incredibly thin right now. There are so many patients, and we desperately need more resources. But I do wonder why natural remedies aren't considered as a viable part of the treatment path?

    💻 Tech Troubles & The Brain Fog

    Between Albertine having her finger cut and me trying to reinstall Windows 11 and Zorin on two different machines, my computer issues have been massive! Peripheral hardware played havoc with us for days. I’m so tired that the brain fog and stress attacks are back in full force it's horrendous how quickly my body reacts to major stress.

    Speaking of technology... I find myself using AI more and more, and it genuinely helps me navigate life right now. It makes me wonder why there isn't a specialised "disabled package" for things like this? For some of us, £20 a month is a huge expense. A few quid a month would make a massive difference!

    🚲 Mobility Scooters & Unexpected Adventures

    My journey with mobility scooters has been... eventful. I finally got my brand new four-wheeled model and took it out in town. Well, it started acting up immediately. It kept cutting out and nearly caused a horrific accident right in the middle of a roundabout! Because of this, it’s stuck in the garage for now. (No need to name the company; that would be unfair.) I've sent two emails and received absolutely nothing back.

    For the moment, I am safely back on my trusty three-wheeled scooter of death. At least that seems functional! Fingers crossed I get a proper response from the four-wheel company by the end of the week, or it's heading straight back.

    🌠 From Scooters to Space: And Other Updates

    Finally, for the fun stuff! Last night, while watching the eclipse (around 7:20 PM UK time), I saw my first UFO and filmed it! It was a grey round ball. I can’t judge its size, but it hovered perfectly still in the sky for about twenty minutes—like a ghost passing by. What joy!

    Sending peace, healing, love, and light to all of you. Please remember to hydrate today; my conservatory is over 110 degrees, and the house is at least 30+! Be safe and keep cool until next time!

    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.)
    ☣ This Is Not A Blog About MS This Is My Life With MS ☣

    @goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk
    enter image description here

  • Posted on

    ⚠️ This blog shares my personal, sometimes painful experiences with MS and mental health. My intention is to speak honestly and offer solidarity—not to harm or replace professional advice. I’m not a doctor or therapist, just someone who gets how hard it can get. If you’re struggling, you’re not alone. Please reach out to a trusted friend, support group, or professional. You deserve help and hope.⚠️

    please remember I suffer with severe cognitive dysfunction this may be a confusing read. some AI Help with written content

    Well... Good Morning Fellow Humanoids

    Good morning, fellow humanoids, and to everyone who somehow wandered into this little corner of the internet.

    It's another blisteringly warm day, and after the week I've just survived, I honestly wasn't convinced I'd still be upright enough to write this.

    What a week.

    One I'd happily lock inside a concrete bunker, weld the door shut, bury beneath several tonnes of rock, and pretend never happened.

    Unfortunately, reality doesn't come with an Undo button.

    The Great Linux Adventure

    Last weekend began with what should have been a fairly straightforward task.

    Installing Zorin OS onto the Geek Mini PC.

    Now, installing Linux itself?

    Easy enough.

    Bluetooth afterwards?

    Apparently that was asking far too much of the universe.

    Cue several hours of staring blankly at the screen while my multiple sclerosis, brain fog and cognitive dysfunction all gathered together like mischievous children before deciding...

    "Let's see how much of his remaining sanity we can misplace today."

    The result?

    Me looking at a perfectly functioning computer whilst simultaneously having absolutely no idea what to do next.

    Computers are wonderful.

    Until they're not.

    Heat... The Gift That Keeps on Taking

    While wrestling with technology, summer decided to join the party.

    Not politely.

    Oh no.

    It arrived like an angry tropical dictator determined to remind everyone exactly who's in charge.

    Sleep disappeared.

    The spasms increased.

    The fatigue became crushing.

    The brain fog thickened to the consistency of cold porridge.

    Every symptom that Multiple Sclerosis can gleefully throw at you seemed to decide Friday was the perfect day for a reunion.

    I've honestly never known it this bad.

    The Glasses Fiasco

    Friday morning began with what should have been a simple trip.

    Around sixty miles there and back to get Albertine's glasses sorted.

    The opticians had somehow managed to completely mangle her prescription.

    No small mistake.

    No little adjustment.

    Completely wrong.

    By the time we arrived, the temperature had already climbed to around 30°C.

    There was absolutely no chance I could stay inside the van.

    So out came the wheelchair, and I parked myself beneath the blessed air conditioning inside the supermarket while the opticians attempted to unravel the optical masterpiece they'd accidentally created.

    Eventually...

    After plenty of apologising, head scratching and general faffing about...

    Everything was sorted.

    Well...

    Sort of.

    We now have to go back again in four weeks when the replacement glasses arrive.

    Wonderful.

    Exactly what everyone wants.

    Another sixty-mile round trip.

    Then the Van Had Other Ideas

    Driving home, things were finally looking up.

    Naturally, that couldn't last.

    Without warning the engine started running rough.

    Then the warning light appeared.

    Thankfully Albertine managed to pull into a tiny lay-by on the A38 before the van decided enough was enough.

    We called the AA.

    They promised someone would be with us as soon as possible.

    Unfortunately, "as soon as possible" translated into roughly two hours.

    Which normally wouldn't be too terrible...

    Unless you're sitting inside what rapidly becomes a mobile greenhouse.

    The temperature climbed.

    Thirty-five...

    Thirty-six degrees...

    Water slowly disappeared.

    Patience disappeared even faster.

    When the Heat Finally Won

    Eventually I had to get out of the van.

    The heat had become unbearable.

    I stood holding onto the side of it...

    ...and then everything simply stopped working.

    The heat.

    The dehydration.

    The exhaustion.

    The MS.

    It all combined into one spectacular reminder that my body occasionally enjoys staging a full-scale workers' strike without giving me any notice whatsoever.

    Thankfully Albertine caught hold of me as I collapsed.

    Had she not been there, I would almost certainly have ended up face-first on the tarmac.

    She wanted to ring 999.

    I told her not to.

    Looking back...

    Perhaps that wasn't my brightest decision.

    A Genuine Hero Arrives

    Then my phone rang.

    It was the AA.

    Not long afterwards Harvey Maguire arrived.

    What followed was honestly remarkable.

    Professional.

    Friendly.

    Knowledgeable.

    Calm.

    Exactly the sort of person you hope turns up when your day has completely fallen apart.

    He quickly diagnosed the problem, replaced a faulty injector, got us safely back on the road and somehow managed to stay cheerful throughout the whole thing.

    So Harvey...

    If by some miracle you ever happen to read this...

    Thank you.

    From both myself and Albertine.

    You genuinely turned one of the worst days we've had in years into something that ended with us getting safely home.

    People like you deserve recognising.

    Saturday's Plan... Absolutely Nothing

    Fast-forward to this morning.

    Saturday.

    I've got a headache.

    I'm almost certainly still dehydrated.

    The kitchen is already sitting at around 32°C.

    This room is nudging 30°C.

    The fan is about to begin another heroic battle against physics.

    I'd planned to take the Three-Wheeled Chariot of Death into the market this morning.

    I've wisely decided against it.

    Today is officially dedicated to doing absolutely nothing.

    Music.

    Cold drinks.

    Shade.

    Survival.

    Not necessarily in that order.

    One Final Thought

    If this week has taught me anything, it's this.

    Hydration isn't optional.

    If you're living with MS, another chronic illness, or you're simply trying to survive these ridiculous temperatures...

    Drink.

    More.

    Water.

    Your body will thank you.

    Mine certainly wishes I'd listened sooner.

    As always...

    I wish every one of you peace, healing, love and light—wherever you are in this wonderfully strange world.

    Look after yourselves.

    Stay cool.

    Stay hydrated.

    And if life decides to throw everything at you...

    Try not to let it see you laugh.

    Sometimes that's the only victory we get.

    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

    sick@mylivinghell.co.uk
    𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ
    enter image description here

  • Posted on

    ⚠️ This blog shares my personal, sometimes painful experiences with MS and mental health. My intention is to speak honestly and offer solidarity not to harm or replace professional advice. I’m not a doctor or therapist, just someone who gets how hard it can get. If you’re struggling, you’re not alone. Please reach out to a trusted friend, support group, or professional. You deserve help and hope.⚠️

    please remember I suffer with severe cognitive dysfunction this may be a confusing read. some AI help with written content

    Well a very good afternoon, morning or evening where ever you may be , or whomever you maybe , to all my readers of the blog please remember to HYDRATE in this new heatwave !!!!.

    There are plenty of articles explaining cognitive dysfunction in multiple sclerosis.

    This isn't one of them.

    This is what it actually feels like when your own brain steals a sentence halfway through saying it, leaves you staring into space like an unplugged toaster, then wanders off without so much as an apology.

    Welcome to the asshole in the room.

    I will Tell You About the Asshole in the Room (Because calling it cognitive dysfunction makes it sound like a polite cardigan.)

    It's amazing, the mind.

    A smell can drag an entire year back by the scruff of the neck. A song. The taste of cheap coffee. Some stupid little thing. Then—bang—a hidden door swings open and suddenly you're somewhere you haven't visited in decades. Every detail waiting for you like you only popped out for milk.

    Memory is a strange old beast.

    Until the asshole walks in.

    Call it brain fog. Call it cognitive dysfunction. Call it whatever keeps the neurologist happy.

    I call it the asshole in the room.

    You're halfway through a sentence. It's a good one too. For once the words are lining up in the right order. You can almost see the point you're trying to make.

    Then the asshole strolls in without knocking.

    He sweeps everything off the table.

    Thought gone.

    Word gone.

    Sentence gone.

    Not hiding.

    Not almost there.

    Gone.

    You know it existed because you were bloody well thinking it five seconds ago, but now it's like trying to remember a dream after someone turns the lights on.

    Multiple sclerosis doesn't just attack your legs.

    It attacks your bloody operating system.

    My head feels like corrupted software trying to reboot itself while someone keeps pulling the power lead out of the wall.

    A neurologist once stared at my MRI for far longer than I liked.

    Finally he looked at me and asked,

    "How do you function?"

    I asked if I could have a copy of the scan.

    "No."

    "What about a photo?"

    "No."

    Apparently it was "grim."

    Five minutes later he discovered what I'd done for a living and suddenly wanted to talk surround sound systems and audio specifications.

    Funny that.

    One minute you're a medical disaster.

    The next you're technical support.

    Living with MS is full of those moments.

    People see the wheelchair.

    They see the out of control beard.

    The hat.

    The sunglasses.

    What they don't see is the fistfight happening inside my head every single day.

    The constant buffering.

    The loading icon.

    The random system crashes.

    Sometimes I wonder if I'm losing the plot.

    Sometimes I wonder if I'm seeing something everyone else has forgotten.

    Sometimes I think too much.

    Sometimes I'm just hungry and a jam sandwich fixes more problems than philosophy ever has.

    I've stopped worrying about looking eccentric.

    I'm sixty-six.

    I've earned eccentric.

    If I want to think about consciousness, ancient ideas, artificial intelligence, spirituality, or why toy cars still make me smile, I bloody well will.

    Life is strange.

    MS makes it stranger.

    But neither of them gets to decide who I am.

    So if I stop halfway through a conversation...

    If I stare into space looking like Windows 95 has just crashed...

    If I suddenly ask you what we were talking about...

    Don't assume there's nothing going on upstairs.

    The thought was there.

    The asshole just nicked it.

    He usually gives it back.

    Eventually.

    Until then I'll have something sweet, laugh at the absurdity of it all, and remind myself of something MS doesn't get to take.

    I'm still here.

    I'm just buffering.

    wishing everybody peace healing love and light, please remember to hydrate as the new heatwave will be here soon apparently.... and also alien/nhi/demon whatever they call it... disclosure as well.. watch them land at the final of the world cup lol or a massive big nothing burger with fry's please lol

    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
    enter image description here

  • Posted on

    ⚠️ 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.

    please remember I suffer with severe cognitive dysfunction this may be a confusing read. no AI written content

    I used a power chair and a chainsaw to take down a tree. I did NOT consult my body first.

    Good afternoon fellow humanoids and N H I , Well, what can I say? This weekend I've completely overdone it. I've used every last spoon up. I've completely exhausted myself in the garden, trying to do some work. Now, you may laugh, but a tree surgeon costs quite a lot of money. And I got it in my head that in my power chair, I can sit in it with a chainsaw and chop down the offending tree thing. Well, the power saw, chainsaw arrived yesterday, and of course, I'm sat in the garden. And guess what? Even in my power chair, and also chair that I used to sit in the shower in I used, I managed to chop down half a tree. And loads of other things with a bloody great big chainsaw. Oh my God, I must say, I was as nervous as hell. And my God, I'm surprised, Albertine, let me loose with a 12-inch plus inches of chainsaw. Oh my God, I know a lot of people would say, "What the fucking hell are you doing?"

    Some would say not in my right mind

    Well, I think it comes as no surprise really that I do some very strange things. And this is probably a sign of stranger things to come, I would have thought. But yes, you can have a power chair and you can have progressive multiple sclerosis. No feeling in your arms and legs and completely tatered and operate a quite lethal power saw, chainsaw, it's unbelievable. And I did it what I perceived to be quite safely with my very focal glasses and my, well, trusty leather motorcycle gloves. So, yes, if you'd have asked me 20 or 30 years ago to use a chainsaw, I would have given you a categorical, no bloody way. But as they say, needs must when the devil drives. Unfortunately, I'm not a rich man. I'm only on a state pension, unfortunately. I can't afford a tree surgeon and I don't know anybody who will chop it down for free. So there we go. So the cost of a hundred quid for a cheap electric chain saw from Amazon. Hey presto, job done. I'm feeling really good about myself at this moment in time because I've achieved a milestone and something I never thought I would do.

    At the expense of my health.

    Well, as the adrenaline wears off, yes, you've guessed it, I'm coming crashing down. Yes, yes, yes, I have completely overdone it. Tinnitus is getting louder, the brain fog is, well, starting to cloud in and I can't feel my arms and legs anymore, and I can feel my throat and it feels like I'm being strangled. So the old auto-immune is giving me some crap as well now. So pins and needles in my hands ferociously now and of course all offs as well in the neck. And I've also got the belt as well, which is really tight and is always making me feel sick for some unknown reason. But still, there we go, fellow humanoids. Let's just say it's a win for me today.

    Thought for the day.

    "Remember, goblin." "Don't overdo it." "It doesn't end well, but you cannot be told, can you?" "No, you can't, and you won't even listen to yourself."

    so I'm sending you all out there peace-healing love and light, no matter whom or whatever you are, or wherever you are in this world.

    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
    enter image description here

  • Posted on

    ⚠️ 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.

    please remember I suffer with severe cognitive dysfunction this may be a confusing read. no AI written content

    This is my reality.

    So good morning fellow humanoids and E-T-I. So yes, this morning I had a massive autonomic dysfunction. Attack. It wasn't very pleasant, it was a near ambulance calling situation again this morning. But there we go. What do I do? What do I do in this situation I ask myself? Do I phone for the ambulance, only to be taken to hospital and prodded and poked, and then not understanding what the fuck's going on because nobody will listen to what's actually going on with me?

    Gaslighting

    They will put it down to my heart like they always do and then they will try and frighten me and then a few weeks later I will go back to them and say well you've got it wrong again haven't you especially when the ECG came back and proved them wrong. And that it was the autonomic dysfunction in the first place that caused my heart irregularities that I am suffering with, yet I'm not seeing a heart specialist, I'm not seeing an immunologist and I'm not seeing a neurologist, I've been left at the back of the list to rot in fucking hell! ....

    It actually comes to something when you have to research and do self-diagnostics yourself to get to the bottom of what is actually wrong with you and why doctors cannot. It really does piss me off. It seems when you're in a power chair and you have progressive multiple sclerosis, you're treated like a fucking vegetable. And that, oh, they'd rather talk to the person with you who is standing next to the wheelchair than the actual person in the wheelchair and take what they have to say seriously and listen, It really is disgusting.

    When the Body Shuts Down

    So, as I sit here and I'm going through the end of this, it just feels awful. I feel awful. I hate these attacks when the mind just totally freaks out and the body just goes. And you know what's coming next? It's those frightening experiences that one can go through when your body totally shuts Down and then of course the inevitable will you come back from that. Luckily I have come back three times now from 3 total shutdowns, which is quite surprising.

    There were no ambulances and doctors, no. It was just me, my wife and a medical AI. If it had been left to 111, they took over a day to get back to me. That really did help, didn't it? The ambulance took nearly an hour and, well, I would have been dead and gone by then. When they did the ECG, they said I had to go into hospital in some urgency. Due to I was going to be suffering a massive stroke due to the ECG pointing out irregularities in my ECG.

    Autonomic dysfunction, flare up

    Now, knowing that what I was going through was an autonomic dysfunction, flare up, shut down, attack thing, I knew what was going to happen and I knew that blood clotting, anti-blood clotting, injections, etc, etc, etc, all that stuff's not going to help me in this situation. So I decided not to go into hospital with this in November. And ever since then I have been fighting tooth and nail with the MS service and well with no luck to be honest it seems I'm going round in circles and I'm getting this letter together for pals because I'm fed up.

    I've been going round and round and round in circles for over ten years and I'm getting sick of the fucking gaslighting that's going on with everything. I just want to get sorted out and have peace of mind for once. Take away all that stress and all that horribleness that I go through every day. I just want to know what's going on with me. I need some help and nobody wants to fucking help me. It's just not fair.

    Ignored by the System

    I know that I'm not the only one out there that is going through this, as there are many with chronic illnesses that go through a living hell regularly every day, every minute of the day, and they suffer due to people's incompetence or just general lack of knowledge. I know the NHS does its best with what it has, and I know the staff do their best, but the red tape and bureaucracy is a joke. It has now got to that point where if I can help it, I do not go to the doctors whatsoever. I only go in dire emergencies because to be honest with you, I really have an aversion to go into doctors and hospitals now. I don't trust any of them and I don't like going to see them. I'm caught between the devil and the deep blue sea here and it's just one hell of a fucking frightening experience for me. It's been plaguing my mental health for many years. And yes, I have white coat syndrome as well. I'm sick and tired of doctors and neurologists trying to frighten me into making decisions that I truly do not want to make.

    Life changes

    So like many of you out there, I stand alone. Well, not alone I have Albertine, my wife and some of my family who stand with me. But others don't because they don't take the time out to try and understand what I'm going through. I'm not the same person I was 40, 50 years ago. I've changed beyond any recognition. Nobody would recognize me not even from 20 years ago. That's how much I've changed. My personality, the inner me, has completely changed. People do not understand the changes I have gone through and that I'm going through. It's fucking hard.

    When will people try to understand that when you're going through an illness like MS that affects your brain, that affects all the signals, the cognitive angles, the brain fogs, fucking hell. How the fuck am I still able to do what I'm even doing? I suppose that's only through learned things that I've done. Man, it's a frightening life, but fuck. Yeah, I'm living it and I'm living on the edge 24/7. And to say it's not frightening would be an understatement. So yeah, I'm living on the edge and I'm speaking from raw experience. I'm not an AI bot or some AI chat thing trying to get figures. I'm just trying to put over what it's like suffering with a chronic illness 24/7.

    mental health issues

    When MS starts fucking with your head and starts playing games in your head Then you'll understand what it's like when you freak out Yes MS can make you freak out and make you lose your mind It can make you on the edge people don't understand the mental stress and what we have to go through My god if people truly knew and understood why I have to go through Then they might go a long way to understand why I am like I am and who I am and what I am Yes, I am eccentric.

    I admit that I also have Gnostic views Yes, I also believe this earth is a simulation Yes, well, so what I'm eccentric I'm allowed to have those views But because I hold some weird views people won't speak to me just because of that but being in a power chair as well My god you're left a rot in a fucking hole of puke somewhere in a corner It's just not fair when can we and when will we be treated like normal members of society without having to hide in dark corners

    !!I just wish people would fucking listen to me for a change.!!

    Sending everyone who reads this blog, peace, healing, love and light no matter whom, what or whoever 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
    enter image description here