brain fog MS

⚠️ 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

Good evening, good afternoon, wherever you are, fellow humanoids or extraterrestrials, or inter dimensional beings, whomever or whatever you are, hello and welcome to my blog.

Well, it has been quite a weekend and quite a few amazing days to start the week with. Yes, things have been quite hectic this week and this weekend, to be honest with you all. I have been doing in depth family tree research witch was absolutely draining and now I am paying for using up all my spoons, The brain fog has started to creep in, the pins and needles. Yes, everything is going. Slightly haywire. It looks as though I'm going to have to this afternoon, going to a dark room with no sound and just lie down. And I think that's going to be it for a while, as I can't see myself doing anything when I'm feeling like this. Still, unfortunately I'm going to have to keep this short, so sending everybody out there peace healing, love and light. And remember, a nothing burger could be UAP / UFO disclosure. We might not know for a while, but when we do, that might be quite interesting. Stay well everybody. 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.)

@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.

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

A deeply personal story about life with multiple sclerosis, resilience, and why awareness must go beyond a single week.

Good afternoon fellow humanoids and nhi. It appears I have been living under a stone. It is MS Awareness Week. Indeed, yes it is. There is a problem though. It should be awareness all year round and not for one week of a year. Yeah? I think many of you would agree that there should be awareness about MS and all illnesses and all chronic illnesses. Not just for one week or just one day of a year. People should care all year. Why just for one week? It doesn't make any sense whatsoever does it really?

It's all very well. Some people who have MS, like myself, find it difficult to go on all these activities that everybody else seems to be able to go and do. I for one just don't have the energy anymore and I'm in a power chair and why would I want to go and do archery of all things. Now I couldn't even pull the string bow back. That's how bad things are with me and hell I'm retired now as well. My body is completely fucked. Why would I want to go doing things to make myself feel worse? No I don't.

So yes, I can appreciate some people with MS can do these activities, but there are a lot who can't. And I think probably we feel maybe a little bit left out somehow, because there's no MS groups anymore anywhere. People with MS don't go to meet anywhere. And does the MS nurse say, "Oh, I know, let's start an MS group up for people to go and meet once a month." You know, that would be a nice thing, but those sorts of things don't happen, do they? I think people would like to meet up and have a bit of fun, have a chat and just generally have a couple of hours of unabashed fun. Why not? You know, not just being stuck at home 24/7 doing nothing and being left to rot. But that's only my personal opinion.

There are many things I have had to give up because of multiple sclerosis, some of the things I dearly loved doing So yes, I tried to live on the edge up until I retired. I suppose I was a bit of a rebel. I was a bit of an outlaw. I did things my way. I always have. I'm not one of the sheep. I'm not one of the crowd. I'm an individual. I have a voice. Yes, and I'm different and I'm eccentric and I am very proud of that fact. I ripped my blinkers off many years ago.

I am still learning many many things. Yes, I am and I'm having a great deal of fun learning. I'm using my mind. Yes, I have severe brain fogs and yes, I have severe tinnitus and it is very challenging indeed for me, but I'm never going to give up, even if I can only do ten minutes in a day or even an hour in a day. That is an achievement. Doing a blog post is also an achievement for me as well. Going out, just the local shop, is an achievement for me as well. So yeah, things for me are pretty bad having progressive MS and also this autoimmune dysfunction, which means I can't go out in the summer now because of the histamine from the flowers etc... Well, the hay fever stuff. So there we go. I can't win.

But what I am doing, I am constantly evolving and changing my life around, so as my multiple sclerosis progresses, I progress in ways of trying to make my life better. So it may take away my motorcycle riding at the age of 65. Yeah, now that was a complete blast, I can tell you. Yeah, ha ha. But it was an 1100 trike I had specially built. and I managed to stay on the road with that for about 20 years. So that was a way of staying on a motorcycle. And yes, I even joined a few motorcycle trike clubs as well and got involved in clubs and all sorts of different weird things. But there we go. I did not let my illness stop me. In fact, my illness spurred me on further and further to be more than I was even.

So now, it's the computer and doing all the other things that I like doing as well. And I'm still learning and that makes me happy. So yeah, as long as I take it steady and don't overdo it, I think things might be okay. But I don't know the meaning of take it easy, so I always end up overdoing it or hurting myself. You know, that's just one of the things when you have in bought up like me, when you see something that might need doing, you do it. And well, when you're say 20, 25, 30, easy job, but when you're 66, Yeah, it's easier said than done.

So my words to everybody is, having a chronic illness, for me, has changed my life, perversely, for the better in some ways, but I will say, I'm never giving up, I'm gonna carry on fighting 'til the bitter end. And yeah, I'm not gonna let it beat me.

Still wishing everybody that reads this blog, peace, healing, love and light, no matter whomever or whatever you are, in the world or universe or multiverses even.

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.

Ah, summer. Sun, ice cream, holidays… unless you’ve got multiple sclerosis. Then it’s basically the devil turning the thermostat up just to watch you squirm.

Welcome to Uhthoff’s phenomenon — or as I call it, “boiling alive in your own nervous system.”

What the Hell Is It?

Uhthoff’s phenomenon is when heat makes your MS symptoms worse. Not permanently, just temporarily. But temporary doesn’t mean pleasant — it means your body throws a tantrum until you cool the hell down.

Why? Because MS already stripped the insulation (myelin) off your nerves. Heat makes that damage even more obvious. It’s like taking a half-broken wire and then running extra current through it — sparks, short circuits, total chaos.

Triggers: The Everyday Tortures

Hot weather → 25°C feels like the Sahara.

Exercise → five minutes of effort and I’m a puddle.

Hot showers or baths → who knew basic hygiene could become extreme sport?

Fever → as if being sick wasn’t enough.

Sitting in a stuffy room → congratulations, you just bought a ticket to hell.

What It Feels Like

Pick your poison:

Blurred vision — like someone smeared Vaseline over your eyes.

Weakness — your legs forget they’re supposed to be legs.

Balance — wobbly as a drunk pigeon on roller skates.

Fatigue — next-level exhaustion, like gravity tripled overnight.

Brain fog — thoughts move slower than dial-up internet.

All your regular MS crap, amped up by heat.

The (Small) Mercy

The only good news? It’s temporary. Once you cool down, things usually settle back to “normal” (whatever your personal version of normal is). You’re not getting worse long-term — you’re just being tortured in the moment. Lucky you.

Coping (aka Not Melting to Death)

Stay hydrated (yes, I know, bladder hell — but dehydration makes it worse).

Fans, cold packs, cool showers.

Avoid heat like it’s an ex who still owes you money.

Build your life around shade and air-con if you can.

Basically: treat yourself like a vampire — avoid the sun, keep cool, drink fluids, and hope the day doesn’t cook you alive.

Why Write This?

Because no one tells you about Uhthoff’s until you’re the one keeling over in the heat. Doctors might brush it off like, “Oh, just avoid hot weather.” Yeah, thanks genius — let me just move to the Arctic.

The reality is: this is part of the MS package deal. It’s crap, but it’s survivable. And if nothing else, talking about it means the rest of us don’t feel like we’re losing the plot when our bodies shut down on sunny days.

So next time you see me looking like a melted candle in a conservatory, know this: it’s not laziness, it’s not in my head — it’s just Uhthoff’s. And it can piss right off.

I write in ink and fury, in breath and broken bone.
Through storm and silence, I survive. That is the crime and the miracle.

⚠️ 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.

Sunday again. My head feels like it’s trying to blow itself off my neck. The conservatory is a sauna from hell, pushing close to 100 degrees. I’m basically rotisserie-roasting in my wheelchair, waiting for the fridge and freezer to finally explode in sympathy. Their groaning is the soundtrack of my life.

A rare visitor stopped by this weekend. Strange thing, visitors — they get fewer as the years pile up, and before you know it, you’re “that forgotten bloke.” Of course, part of it’s my fault. I didn’t want people seeing me like this — a creaking neck that sounds like snapping twigs, heart palpitations strong enough to rattle furniture, eyes streaming like cheap taps, throat raw enough to sand wood. The whole freakshow. Welcome to the Sunday matinee.

And then there’s the heat. Heat and MS are the perfect lovers — clingy, suffocating, and guaranteed to leave you wrecked. When the temperature climbs, the nervous system basically goes on strike. Muscles weaken, balance evaporates, and my brain decides it’s time to reboot itself every ten minutes. Hello brain fog, goodbye memory. The world feels twice as heavy and I move half as fast. Some people call it “Uhthoff’s phenomenon.” I call it being boiled alive in your own juices.

Hydration, of course, is supposed to be the saviour. Drink more water, they say. Right. Easy advice when you don’t have bladder problems that make you live like a hostage negotiating toilet breaks. Water in, waterfall out. Still — dehydration just makes everything worse. Thick blood, pounding head, and an MS body that’s already halfway to meltdown. So I chug when I can, and pay the price when I can’t make it in time. Life’s full of trade-offs.

So what’s left? Medical Mary Jane and Gregorian chants. Sounds ridiculous, but it’s the closest thing I’ve got to therapy. Weed dulls the edges, chant quiets the chaos, and words on this page act as pressure release — raw, unfiltered, sarcastic truth. I know most people don’t want to hear about diarrhoea, pissing yourself, or falling apart in the heat. But some will. Maybe 10, maybe 20 people. And those are the people who get it. That’s who I write for.

Because at the end of the day, there’s no neat bow to tie on this. MS is ugly, sweaty, isolating, and full of brain-melting days where the stress sits on your chest like a fat cat. And yeah, I feel forgotten sometimes. Weird. Different. Alone. But if writing this makes one other person feel less alone in their own meltdown, then maybe it’s worth frying in this bloody hotbox.

I write in ink and fury, in breath and broken bone.
Through storm and silence, I survive. That is the crime and the miracle.