chronic illness

⚠️ 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

A very good afternoon to you, whoever you are, wherever you’re from—whether it’s Mars, ancient Tartaria, or just your local pub. I hope your weekend is less chaotic than mine.

The Finger That Came Back (And Other Small Miracles)

Albertine’s finger, which was dramatically removed and then just as dramatically returned by the NHS, is now looking remarkably good like it never left at all. A true medical miracle! We’re down one person in the household due to this ordeal, meaning I’m now single-handedly responsible for keeping everything from collapsing into chaos a task that requires both Herculean effort and a healthy dose of dark humour.

The 4-Wheel Scooter of Death (Still in the Garage, Thankfully)

My new mobility scooter dubbed the 4-wheel scooter of death remains safely locked away in the garage. I refuse to unleash it upon the world after its near-fatal roundabout incident.

Accelerates like a runaway train Cuts out at crucial moments (like, say, when you’re about to get hit by a bus) Jerked me home with no power, leaving me questioning my life choices I’ve sent at least three emails (possibly five) to the company that sold it to me, and not a single response. This suggests either:

They’re aware of the design flaws but don’t care. My emails are being filtered out as spam (which, given their quality, is entirely plausible). They’ve already written my obituary. Either way, I’m now forced to use the 3-wheel trolley of death—a device that last year attempted to throw me under a bus. Cheap scooters: not fit for purpose.

The UK’s Mobility Scooter Problem (Or: Why Can’t We Have Electric Cars That Actually Work?)

I remember the old blue mobility cars reliable, sturdy, and built to last. Now? We get these flimsy, half-baked electric scooters that are basically death traps.

Why can’t we have small, fast, reliable electric vehicles? They exist in China! Why not here?

The government is pushing us toward electric everything except for the things disabled people actually need. Where’s my 30-40 mph electric car? I don’t care if it runs on petrol, diesel, or even bullshit—just give me something that doesn’t try to kill me.

The Electrical Storm in My Brain (Or: Why I Look Like a Mad Scientist)

I was supposed to go to the market today, but I’m not feeling well. Brain fog, stress, and that weird electrical storm sensation the kind of feeling you can’t describe unless you’ve experienced it yourself.

Looking in the mirror at 67, with my hair falling out faster than a bald eagle in a hurricane, I find it amusing (in a deeply cynical way). Life’s choices, eh?

A New Project: The MS Podcast (Or: Why We Need More Dark Humour)

I’ve been asked to help with a podcast about multiple sclerosis a place where people can ask questions and hear from those of us living this neurological adventure first-hand. Dark humour is the only thing keeping me going.

My brain feels like a bowl of mush being stirred by a spoon, and my mental faculties are… questionable. But hey, at least I have something to write about.

What Would an Borg Think of This?)

An Borg, observing this post, might conclude:

"Subject exhibits signs of neurological dysfunction coupled with an apparent fascination for mobility devices that actively attempt to injure them. Recommendation: Observe from a safe distance." "Human humour is inefficient but effective. Sarcasm detected at 98%. Probability of dark comedy success: 100%."

Final Thoughts (Or: Why I’m Still Here)

I send all readers whether you’re human, interdimensional, or from ancient Tataria peace, healing, love, and light (even if it’s refracted through layers of sarcasm).

If you are from another dimension, drop me a line. A neurologically challenged man like myself would love to hear your perspective.

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

⚠️ 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

"The Different Types of MS: Relapsing-Remitting, Primary Progressive, and More"

(Or, "How to Lose at Life While Losing Your Nervous System")

Introduction: Welcome to the MS Lottery

Congratulations! You’ve just won a lifetime supply of neurological chaos, served with a side of uncertainty. Multiple sclerosis (MS) isn’t one-size-fits-all—it’s more like a choose-your-own-adventure book where every path leads to "I hope this isn’t me."

Whether you’re here because you’ve just been diagnosed, you know someone who has it, or you’re just morbidly curious about how the brain can betray you, this is your no-BS guide to the different types of MS. Spoiler alert: None of them are fun.

1. Relapsing-Remitting MS (RRMS)

The "On Again, Off Again" Special (Affects ~85% of people at diagnosis—lucky you!)

What It Is:

You get symptom flare-ups (relapses) that come out of nowhere, followed by periods where you pretend nothing happened (remissions). It’s like your brain is playing a game of "Hot Potato: Nervous System Edition."

Key Features

✔ Relapses: New or worsening symptoms (numbness, vision problems, fatigue—classic MS moves).

✔ Remissions: Symptoms improve partially or completely. Congrats! You’re back to normal… for now.

✔ Early symptoms: Optic neuritis (your eye decides to go rogue), tingling in your limbs, balance issues.

Progression Over Time:

Some people stay stable for years (lucky bastards). Others transition to Secondary Progressive MS (SPMS), where things start getting less fun. Visual Idea: A graph showing relapse-remission cycles with the caption "Your brain’s way of saying ‘I’m still here, but barely.’"

2. Secondary Progressive MS (SPMS)

The "Slow Burn" Edition (Affects ~69% of PwMS within 25 years—because why not?)

What It Is:

You start as RRMS, but then your brain decides "Screw it, I’m doing this the hard way." Symptoms worsen steadily, and remissions become a distant memory.

Key Features:

✔ No more full recoveries. Relapses might still happen, but they don’t go away.

✔ Symptoms accumulate like a debt you can’t pay off.

✔ Common later-stage symptoms: Mobility issues (walking becomes a metaphorical and literal challenge), cognitive decline, bladder/bowel problems.

"From ‘I can still walk’ to ‘Please help me.’"

3. Primary Progressive MS (PPMS)

The "No Breaks, Just Suffering" Track (Affects ~10–15% of PwMS—because variety is the spice of life.)

What It Is:

You get progressive disability from the start, with no relapses or remissions. It’s like your brain is on a one-way ticket to "I can’t do that anymore."

Key Features:

✔ No early relapses—just steady decline.

✔ Common symptoms: Spasticity (your muscles decide they hate you), fatigue (because why not?), cognitive changes.

✔ Slower progression than SPMS, but still a slow-motion disaster.

4. Clinically Isolated Syndrome (CIS)

The "Maybe It’s MS, Maybe Not" Phase (Early-stage MS or a one-time episode—because life loves uncertainty.)

What It Is:

You have one neurological symptom that could be MS but isn’t yet confirmed. It’s like your brain is flirting with the idea of betraying you.

Key Features:

✔ Single relapse, no prior MS diagnosis.

✔ MRI may show lesions (plaques) in your brain or spinal cord.

5. Radiologically Isolated Syndrome (RIS)

The "My Brain Has Lesions, But I’m Fine" Phase (Preclinical MS—because why not start early?)

What It Is:

You have MS-like lesions on MRI but no symptoms yet. It’s like your brain is quietly sabotaging itself behind the scenes.

Key Features:

✔ No neurological symptoms (yet).

✔ Monitored closely for progression.

6. Other Rare Forms Because MS Loves Variety

Relapsing-Progressive MS (RPMS): Relapses + steady worsening (the worst of both worlds). Progressive-Relapsing MS (PRMS): Rare, but if you get this, congrats, you’re a unicorn. How Is MS Diagnosed? (Spoiler: It’s a Pain) (Briefly cover diagnostic criteria—McDonald’s Criteria, MRI, spinal fluid tests, etc.)

What Does This Mean for Treatment?

(Spoiler: It’s a Work in Progress)

RRMS & SPMS: Often treated with disease-modifying therapies (DMTs)—because why not try to slow things down? PPMS: Some DMTs are approved specifically for PPMS (hope springs eternal). CIS/RIS: Monitored closely, but some may start treatment early if they’re high-risk. Visual Idea: A table comparing treatment options with the caption "Your brain’s ‘I’ll try to behave’ phase."

Living with Different Types of MS

(Or, "How to Not Lose Your Mind")

For RRMS: Manage relapses (steroids are your friend). Track symptoms between flare-ups (because denial is a river in Egypt). For PPMS/SPMS: Adaptive strategies for mobility/cognition (because walking is overrated). Emotional support (because losing your ability to walk is hard). "I used to walk, now I’m a human wheelchair—thanks, MS."

Key Takeaways

(Or, "Things You’ll Learn the Hard Way")

MS isn’t one-size-fits-all—it’s more like a buffet of suffering. Early diagnosis is crucial, even if you’re asymptomatic (yet). Treatment options vary, so work closely with your neurologist (or cry into their shoulder). Support groups and advocacy can help you navigate this mess.

Final Thought:

Dark Humour is a Coping Mechanism MS is a real, debilitating condition, but laughing about it helps. Whether you’re dealing with relapses, progressive disability, or just the daily grind of living with a chronic illness, you’re not alone.

peace healing love and light to all the readers of this blog

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

⚠️ 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

A raw, darkly funny and unapologetically personal take on living with Multiple Sclerosis. Symptoms, fatigue, mobility, brain fog and the absurdity of everyday MS life.

Chapter One: Congratulations, You've Been Promoted to Professional Liability

Welcome to the blog.

If you're reading this, chances are you've either been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, know somebody who has, or you've accidentally wandered in while looking for recipes.

If it's the latter, the Yorkshire pudding recipe is in another universe.

For the rest of us...

Welcome to the club that nobody wanted to join.

Membership benefits include:

• Randomly falling over for no obvious reason.
• Forgetting what you walked into a room for.
• Being permanently exhausted despite achieving absolutely nothing.
• Discovering that your own immune system has become your full-time stalker.

There are no loyalty points.

There is, however, a lifetime supply of unsolicited advice.

---

Rule Number One

The first thing you'll discover is that everyone suddenly becomes a neurologist.

Your neighbour recommends turmeric.

Your aunt swears by celery juice.

Some bloke on Facebook says crystals cured his cousin's hamster, so clearly they'll repair your spinal cord.

Smile politely.

Then continue taking the medication invented by people who actually went to medical school.

---

Rule Number Two

Never Waste Good Symptoms

MS is incredibly creative.

One day your leg works.

The next day it's merely decorative.

Sometimes your hand forgets it's attached to you.

Occasionally your tongue joins a witness protection programme.

Enjoy the mystery.

It's like opening an advent calendar designed by Satan.

You never know what's behind today's little door.

---

Rule Number Three

Accept That Your Brain Runs on Rural Broadband

People ask...

"What's wrong?"

Nothing.

I'm simply waiting for Windows 98 to finish loading.

My thoughts are arriving one packet at a time.

Estimated completion...

Three to five working days.

---

Rule Number Four

Master the Ancient Art of Looking Fine

You'll hear this sentence approximately 47,000 times.

"But you look so well!"

Thank you.

You also look like someone who hasn't just fought their own nervous system before breakfast.

Appearances can be deceptive.

Like politicians.

Or supermarket sandwiches.

---

Rule Number Five

Become One With Furniture

Experienced MS sufferers know every bench within a five-mile radius.

You don't choose routes by scenery.

You choose them by available seating.

That suspicious-looking wall outside the chemist?

Luxury.

---

Rule Number Six

Your Mobility Scooter is Now a Mythical Beast

This isn't a mobility scooter.

It's a steel horse.

A dragon with indicators.

A noble mechanical steed that bravely carries you into battle...

...at a legally restricted 8 mph.

The Hells Angels nod respectfully.

Mostly because you've blocked the pavement.

---

Rule Number Seven

Never Trust a Good Day

A good day is wonderful.

It is also suspicious.

Don't ask questions.

Simply enjoy it while your nervous system isn't paying attention.

Tomorrow it may remember you're having fun.

---

Final Advice

People often apologise because they don't know what to say.

Don't worry.

Neither do we.

We forget halfway through the sentence anyway.

If there's one thing MS teaches you, it's that life doesn't always make sense.

So laugh anyway.

Laugh because the disease hates it.

Laugh because the alternative is giving it all the best lines.

And if your legs refuse to cooperate...

At least your sense of humour still knows where it's going.

Probably.

wishing everyone peace healing love and light

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

⚠️ 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

⚠️ 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

⚠️ 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

*This article is a fictional and darkly humorous portrayal of living with Multiple Sclerosis. Experiences of MS vary greatly between individuals.

Multiple Sclerosis has stolen strength, memories, certainty and independence but it has not managed to destroy my humour. In this fictional letter, MS looks at the person whose life it invaded and proudly describes its cruellest work.*

A Letter from Multiple Sclerosis – Living With an Invisible Disease

Dear Human,

We've been together a long time now.

Long enough that I know your routines better than you do.

Remember when you first met me?

You thought I was tiredness.

Stress.

A trapped nerve.

Vitamin deficiency.

Bless you.

I let you believe that for a while.

I enjoy a slow entrance.

Now look at us.

You wake up every morning wondering which version of me you'll get.

Some days I let you walk.

Some days I borrow your legs.

Keeps things interesting.

Do you remember when you trusted your own body?

I do.

That was my favourite part.

Watching that confidence disappear one tiny piece at a time.

Not enough for anyone else to notice.

Just enough for you.

That little stumble.

That forgotten word.

The coffee cup you suddenly couldn't grip.

The name you knew yesterday but couldn't remember today.

Magnificent.

The clever part wasn't hurting you.

Pain is easy.

Anyone can inflict pain.

No...

My masterpiece was making you doubt yourself.

"Did that really happen?"

"Am I imagining it?"

"Perhaps I'm just getting older."

Exactly.

That's where I live.

Not only inside your nerves...

Inside your certainty.

I've taught your immune system to attack the very wiring that makes you...

You.

A beautifully engineered act of friendly fire.

Your own body became my accomplice.

I hardly have to do any work anymore.

The funny thing is...

Everyone keeps asking what you've done today.

As if surviving me isn't already a full-time occupation.

They see you standing.

They assume you're fine.

They don't see the calculations.

The balance.

The fatigue.

The pain.

The electrical storms firing through your spine.

The words disappearing halfway through a sentence.

No...

That's our little secret.

I particularly enjoy introducing new symptoms without warning.

Just when you think you've understood me...

Surprise.

Here's dizziness.

Enjoy your lunch with swallowing problems.

Fancy some burning feet?

Let's throw in bladder urgency while you're standing in the supermarket queue.

Why?

Because I can.

I have no rules.

No timetable.

No conscience.

You call me unpredictable.

I call it creativity.

But then...

Something rather annoying happened.

You laughed.

Not once.

Not politely.

Properly laughed.

You made jokes about me.

You named your mobility scooter.

You turned your misery into stories.

You started writing.

People read them.

Some cried.

Some smiled.

Some recognised themselves for the first time.

That irritated me.

You see...

Diseases like me thrive on silence.

On shame.

On isolation.

Every time you tell the truth...

You steal a little of my power.

Every time someone says...

"That's exactly how I feel."

...I lose.

Don't misunderstand me.

I'm still here.

I'll still hide your memories.

I'll still tighten your muscles.

I'll still steal tomorrow's energy before you've finished today.

That isn't changing.

But neither, it seems...

Are you.

You're still getting up.

Still writing.

Still laughing.

Still refusing to become only my diagnosis.

Honestly...

You're becoming rather inconvenient.

With the utmost professional irritation,

Multiple Sclerosis

P.S.

I'll probably move your keys tomorrow.

Just to remind you who's technically in charge.

Wishing all the readers of this blog a happy week ahead peace love and light to All

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 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ 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 help solve this issue so you can understand it ****

well a very good afternoon to all the readers of the blog, humanoids and nhi even.

Multiple Sclerosis does not always behave in the way medical leaflets suggest. Alongside the better-known symptoms, MS can cause crushing chest sensations, phantom itching, electric shocks, burning feet, swallowing difficulties, emotional outbursts and strange reactions to heat. This article explores the weird side of MS with medical context, lived experience and the dark humour needed when your nervous system starts inventing symptoms of its own.

Nobody Told Me MS Could Do That!

The Strange Symptoms That Make You Question Your Own Sanity

"Is this my MS... or have I finally lost the plot?"

If you've lived with Multiple Sclerosis for more than about five minutes, you've probably asked yourself exactly that.

One minute you're dealing with numbness.

The next you're convinced your ribs are being crushed by an invisible anaconda.

Then your feet feel as though someone has poured boiling water over them...

...except they haven't.

Welcome to the wonderfully confusing world of MS.

The disease doesn't read textbooks.

Neither does your nervous system.

While most people think MS simply causes weakness or difficulty walking, the reality is far stranger. Because MS attacks the brain and spinal cord, almost any neurological function can be affected, producing symptoms that sound completely unbelievable until you've experienced them yourself.

The MS Hug

Whoever named this symptom deserves a stern talking to.

There is absolutely nothing affectionate about it.

Imagine someone wrapping industrial ratchet straps around your chest and slowly tightening them.

Some people think they're having a heart attack.

Others feel they can't breathe.

The good news?

It's usually muscle spasms caused by damaged nerve pathways rather than damage to the heart or lungs.

The bad news?

It feels utterly convincing while it's happening.

The Itch That Doesn't Exist

This one drives people mad.

Your arm itches.

You scratch it.

Still itches.

Scratch harder.

Nothing.

Because the itch isn't coming from your skin.

It's coming from your brain.

Your nervous system has basically dialled the wrong number.

No cream.

No antihistamine.

No amount of scratching fixes a signal that's being generated by damaged nerves.

Electric Shocks Down Your Spine

You bend your neck.

ZAP!

It feels as though someone has connected your spine to the National Grid.

This is called Lhermitte's sign.

It lasts only seconds...

...but those seconds certainly get your attention.

Many people describe it as one of the strangest sensations they've ever experienced.

Laughing When Nothing's Funny

Or crying...

...when nothing is actually wrong.

This is called pseudobulbar affect (PBA).

It's one of the cruellest symptoms because people assume it's psychological.

It isn't.

It's neurological.

The emotional wiring between different parts of the brain has become disrupted.

Your emotions aren't fake.

They're simply being expressed at the wrong time.

My Feet Are On Fire...

Except...

They're freezing.

Or numb.

Or crawling with invisible insects.

MS has an extraordinary ability to invent sensations that make absolutely no logical sense.

Burning feet.

Ice-cold legs.

Pins and needles.

Buzzing.

Vibrating.

Many people spend years trying to explain these feelings.

The truth is...

Sometimes there simply aren't words for damaged nerve signals.

Suddenly You Can't Swallow Properly

One moment you're eating lunch.

The next your throat seems to have forgotten how swallowing works.

It can be frightening.

Swallowing is actually an incredibly complicated neurological process involving dozens of muscles and multiple cranial nerves.

MS can interfere with that communication, making food seem to stick or making swallowing feel strangely difficult.

Vision Has Its Own Sense of Humour

Hot bath?

Blurry vision.

Warm day?

Double vision.

Hairdryer?

Why not make the room wobble a little?

Heat temporarily slows already damaged nerve pathways, causing existing symptoms to flare. This phenomenon—called Uhthoff's phenomenon—doesn't usually mean new damage has occurred, but it can make old symptoms briefly worse.

The Invisible Symptoms Nobody Sees

Perhaps the strangest symptom of all...

Is having symptoms nobody else can see.

Brain fog.

Fatigue.

Pain.

Odd sensations.

People glance at you and say...

"You look really well."

Meanwhile your nervous system is holding what can only be described as a small electrical civil war.

Living With The Weird

One thing I've learned is this...

MS rarely asks permission.

It simply invents new ways of reminding you that the brain controls almost everything.

Sometimes it feels like an electrical fault in the universe.

Sometimes it's terrifying.

Sometimes it's absurd.

And sometimes...

All you can do is laugh, because if you don't, you'll spend your life trying to explain to people why your ribs are hugging you, your feet are on fire, your face is being electrocuted, and your throat has forgotten how swallowing works.

MS isn't just unpredictable.

It's the greatest practical joker your nervous system never wanted.

Final Thoughts

Living with Multiple Sclerosis means accepting that strange can become normal.

Wishing everyone who reads this blog , peace healing love and light !

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 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ 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 help solve this issue so you can understand it **

Many thanks you everyone who reads my blog, I really appreciate that you take time out of your day to read my blog.. A massive thanks to everyone as I just realised I have been doing this a year now

What Kind of Person Am I ?

People often ask me what I actually believe.

Am I Wiccan?

Yes.

Am I Gnostic?

Yes.

Am I a Humanist?

Absolutely.

Some people see those ideas as contradictory.

I don't.

To me, they fit together like different pieces of the same puzzle.

Wicca Taught Me to Respect Nature

Not because nature is always kind.

Nature can be brutal.

Storms don't care about your feelings.

Disease doesn't ask permission.

Death keeps no appointments.

Yet there is beauty in the rhythm of it all.

The seasons change.

Life grows.

Life dies.

Then somehow, life begins again.

That deserves respect.

Not blind worship.

Respect.

Gnosticism Taught Me to Ask Questions

I've never been comfortable with anyone telling me what I must believe.

Questions matter more than certainty.

Who are we?

Why do we suffer?

Is consciousness more than electrical signals bouncing around a lump of grey matter?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

The search itself has value.

I'd rather spend my life asking difficult questions than accepting easy answers.

Humanism Keeps My Feet on the Ground

Whatever I believe about the universe, one thing remains certain.

People matter.

Kindness matters.

Compassion matters.

Critical thinking matters.

If your beliefs don't make you a better human being...

What's the point?

Multiple Sclerosis Changed Everything

MS stripped away the illusion that life is predictable.

It taught me that bodies fail.

Plans collapse.

Tomorrow is never guaranteed.

But it also taught me something unexpected.

Humour survives.

Sometimes laughter is the last act of rebellion left to us.

If I can't beat MS...

I can still laugh at it.

Sometimes I imagine the Devil chasing me down the road in a mobility scooter while I shout back, "You'll have to go faster than eight miles an hour!"

That isn't denial.

It's defiance.

Warlock Dark

Warlock Dark isn't an escape from reality.

He's the part of me that refuses to surrender to it.

The Wiccan magician.

The Gnostic seeker.

The stubborn human being who keeps getting back up, even when life keeps knocking him down.

He laughs in the face of suffering.

Not because suffering is funny.

Because refusing to laugh lets suffering win.

The Day My World view Changed

Last year I briefly died.

For a few seconds, there was only darkness.

No tunnel.

No voices.

No angels.

No guides.

Just silence.

I don't claim that proves anything about what happens after death.

It was my experience, and others have had very different ones.

But it changed me.

It made me wonder whether we spend too much time waiting for someone else to save us.

Maybe we carry far more responsibility than we like to admit.

We create.

We destroy.

We shape one another's lives.

We can lift people up.

We can break them down.

In that sense, perhaps the greatest power we possess isn't supernatural at all.

It's the power we have over each other.

That thought is both unsettling and strangely liberating.

So What Do I Believe?

I believe in respecting nature.

I believe in seeking wisdom instead of certainty.

I believe in compassion over cruelty.

I believe that laughter is a weapon against despair.

I believe that illness may change the body without defeating the spirit.

And I believe that if there is any real magic in this world...

It begins with how we choose to live, how we treat one another, and whether we have the courage to keep asking questions.

The rest?

The universe can keep its secrets a little longer.

sending everyone peace healing love and light, no matter who or where you are in this weird world of ours... I could write so much of my weird experiences, people would not believe what has happened to me in my life... no one ever listened to me more fool them, they sent me hate I send them love hahaha one things for sure nothings for sure, get MS get rid of friends who are assholes and family even, brothers, sisters, mothers, uncaring fuckers that’s for sure.. and then gain new friends who understand what you are going through and don’t judge because once you know you know... I have come to the conclusion the only people who understand me are others who are like me who are disabled with chronic illness ... it makes US different whether we have visible or non visible disabilities

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 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ 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 help solve this issue so you can understand it lol

What Is My Living Hell

People often think this blog is about Multiple Sclerosis.

It isn't.

MS is simply the landscape.

This blog is about what happens when the landscape beneath your feet begins to move.

It's about discovering that your body and your mind aren't always in agreement.

It's about asking questions that neurologists don't pretend to answer.

Who am I when my legs refuse to walk?

Who is thinking the thoughts that my damaged brain struggles to express?

Is consciousness nothing more than electrical impulses, or is there something deeper quietly watching the chaos unfold?

I don't claim to have the answers.

Some days I lean towards neuroscience.

Other days I wander into Gnosticism, Wicca, Jung, quantum speculation, psychedelics, folklore, or the strange stories whispered around campfires.

Not because I think they replace medicine.

They don't.

MS deserves evidence-based treatment, and I would never suggest otherwise.

But while medicine explains what is happening to my nervous system, philosophy and spirituality help me ask what it means to live through it.

Somewhere between MRI scanners and ancient myths...

...between mobility scooters and mushroom circles...

...between neurologists and trickster spirits...

...I keep searching.

Perhaps that's what this blog has always been.

Not a search for a cure.

A search for understanding.

If you're willing to walk that path with me—however slowly—welcome.

Pull up a chair.

The kettle's on.

The universe is about to get weird.

Wishing all the readers of this blog, peace healing love and light.

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

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

⚠️ 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 help solve this issue so you can understand it lol

well a very good morning to everyone who reads this blog and hope that things go well and that you have an excellent weekend sending peace healing love and light...

Finding Magic in a Body That Sometimes Forgets

The Goddess never promised us perfect bodies.

She promised the turning of the Wheel.

Birth. Growth. Decline. Death. Then the mystery begins again.

As Wiccans, we celebrate the seasons because they remind us that nothing remains the same forever. The mighty oak stands tall in summer, sheds every leaf in autumn, sleeps through winter, and returns again in spring.

Perhaps our own bodies are simply another season of the Wheel.

Living with Multiple Sclerosis can feel like your own body has declared war upon itself. The nerves misfire. The muscles rebel. Fatigue arrives like an unwelcome spirit, settling over everything until even making a cup of tea feels like climbing a mountain.

From a medical perspective, MS is an autoimmune disease. That understanding matters, and modern medicine has brought treatments that can slow its progress and improve quality of life.

But medicine isn't the only language people use to understand suffering.

For many Wiccans, illness is not a punishment from the Goddess, nor proof that we've somehow failed spiritually. Nature itself is full of storms, broken branches, lightning strikes, and trees that grow twisted yet continue reaching for the sun.

Why should humans be any different?

When I light a candle, I don't expect it to cure my MS.

I light it because even the smallest flame pushes back the darkness.

When I walk through the woods, I don't believe the trees can repair damaged myelin.

But they remind me that life continues, even when it changes shape.

When I celebrate Lammas, Samhain, or Beltane, I'm not pretending my symptoms disappear.

I'm remembering that I'm still part of something much older than my diagnosis.

The Wheel keeps turning.

Some days my body feels like winter.

Everything slows.

Everything hurts.

Nothing grows.

Other days are spring.

Energy returns, if only for a few precious hours.

I have learned not to curse the winter.

Without it, I would never recognise spring when she arrives.

Perhaps magic isn't about making disease disappear.

Perhaps the greatest spell we ever cast is refusing to let illness define who we are.

The Goddess is present in the healthy body.

She is equally present in the scarred one.

The God walks with the marathon runner.

He also walks beside the person moving at eight miles an hour on a mobility scooter.

Neither path is holier than the other.

Both are sacred.

If MS has taught me anything, it is that strength isn't measured by how far we can walk.

It's measured by whether we choose to keep walking the Wheel, however slowly, however painfully, and however differently from what we once imagined.

Blessed Be.

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.)

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