chronic pain

⚠️ 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 afternoon to all you humanoids, NHI, and everyone who reads this blog. A massive happy, soon to be August. Well, it's rather a sad day today. Albertine went to the doctors and yes, she has to have her finger amputated. Yes, she has to go to the plastic surgery department in the next few days and they will be doing the finger removal. This is indeed a major sadness and let's hope she gets well soon. This is a different slant on multiple sclerosis through a gnostic eye. Hope you enjoy it.

When the Body Becomes the Prison

There are mornings when my body feels less like a home and more like a prison cell.

The locks are invisible.

The bars are made of nerves.

The wardens have names like fatigue, pain, brain fog, and spasticity.

Welcome to Multiple Sclerosis.

Modern medicine tells us that MS is an autoimmune disease in which the immune system mistakenly attacks the protective covering around nerve fibres. That explanation matters. It guides treatment and helps us understand what's happening inside the body.

But there is another question medicine doesn't try to answer:

What does it mean to live inside a body that no longer obeys you?

The ancient Gnostics wrestled with a different kind of problem. They saw the material world as a place of limitation, confusion, and suffering. Whether or not you agree with their worldview, they asked a question that still echoes today:

What if we are more than our bodies?

Living with MS has a strange way of separating the observer from the observed.

My mind says, "Stand up."

My leg replies, "No."

My thoughts remain clear while my words disappear halfway through a sentence.

The will is present.

The machinery isn't.

It is as if the true self sits behind the controls of a damaged vehicle.

The driver remains.

The steering has failed.

The Gnostics believed that beneath the confusion of the physical world lies a deeper reality that cannot be injured by disease.

MS can damage nerves.

It cannot damage compassion.

It cannot destroy love.

It cannot erase curiosity.

It cannot touch the quiet part of us that still looks at the stars and wonders why we are here.

Perhaps that is a kind of gnosis.

Not secret knowledge hidden in dusty scrolls.

But the realisation that we are not defined solely by what our bodies can or cannot do.

Some days I feel trapped inside failing biology.

Other days I catch glimpses of something larger.

A sunset.

A piece of music.

The laughter of someone I love.

For a moment the prison walls become transparent.

The body remains ill.

The spirit remains free.

That is not a cure.

It is not an escape.

It is simply a reminder that disease does not have the final word about who we are.

Perhaps the greatest act of rebellion against suffering is refusing to believe that suffering is all there is.

If there is such a thing as gnosis, perhaps it begins there.

Not in certainty.

Not in miracles.

But in recognising that even when the body falters, the search for truth continues.

And perhaps...

The search itself is freedom.

Hoping that you enjoyed this blog article, yes it was different. It was a multiple sclerosis, as seen through a gnostic lens. My next post will be seen through a wicca lens. It's quite an interesting thing. Anyway, wishing everybody who reads this blog, peace healing, love and light, and wishing you a most fantastic weekend when it arrives on your doorstep.

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

⚠️ 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. AI help with written content

Good morning, fellow humanoids, NHI, accidental visitors and whatever else may be reading this blog from behind the veil.

It is Saturday morning, so I wish you all a happy weekend or at least a weekend involving fewer neurological catastrophes, unreliable taxis and near-death descents on mobility equipment than mine.

Yesterday was a Friday from hell.

Admittedly, it eventually developed into a rather pleasant Friday afternoon, but only after spending the morning enthusiastically dragging me through several circles of Dante’s accessible parking area.

The MS Curse Awakens

I woke at my usual time of six o’clock with the entire left-hand side of my body giving me its customary warm welcome.

By “warm welcome”, I mean terrible pain.

The sort of pain that makes opening your eyes feel like an administrative error.

My blood pressure had also decided to explore the lower levels of human survival. I felt dreadful before getting out of bed, and considerably worse once I attempted the ambitious medical procedure known as “standing up to get some food”.

I remember thinking:

Well, this is a promising start.

It was clearly going to be one of those days when my body cancelled all scheduled activities without consulting management.

I took my prescribed medical cannabis and THC/CBD oil. I also had vitamin D with K2, vitamin C and magnesium.

Gradually, things began to improve or at least retreat from “immediate exorcism required” to “possibly fit for limited public viewing”.

My head still felt as though it had been posted to another dimension and was being repeatedly struck with a cosmic mallet.

Then came the existential dread.

People often tell you to remain positive. This is excellent advice when your nervous system is not behaving like a condemned Victorian electrical installation.

Sometimes positivity is possible.

Sometimes your brain merely replies:

Absolutely not. Today we shall stare into the abyss.

I call it the MS Curse.

It is the strange natural law by which every carefully arranged plan is immediately attacked by pain, fatigue, dizziness, spasms, brain fog or some entirely new symptom released as part of the latest neurological update.

Taxi? Did Somebody Call a Taxi?

The previous day, Albertine had booked a taxi to collect us at 11:30 and take us to the tattoo studio for my midday appointment.

At 11:30, we were outside the bungalow waiting.

There was no taxi.

At 11:40, there was still no taxi.

By 11:45, the taxi had apparently entered the same mysterious dimension as my functioning nervous system.

Albertine telephoned the company and was told that the driver was still around half an hour away. They could not reach us for at least another twenty minutes.

My appointment was at twelve.

Marvelous.

This was especially inconvenient because Albertine had almost chopped the top of her finger off on Tuesday. It had been left hanging on by a small piece of skin, which is generally considered a poor condition in which to operate a motor vehicle.

She had already needed treatment from the plastic-surgery team and was therefore unable to drive.

I was feeling dreadful and could not safely drive either.

The taxi company, meanwhile, had apparently adopted the philosophical position that time is merely a social construct.

I became rather angry.

I had been trying to arrange this tattoo for a long time. I had finally found the right tattooist, and I did not want to waste her time or fail to turn up.

There was only one option left.

Unfortunately, it had three wheels.

My Saviour: The Three-Wheeled Trolley of Death

We went into the garage and unplugged the three-wheeled scooter of death from its charger.

I looked at it.

It looked back at me.

Possibly.

I had around ten minutes to reach the tattoo studio.

“Please,” I thought, “do not let me down today of all days.”

I climbed aboard, pulled the throttle back and unleashed the full, terrifying fury of approximately eight miles per hour.

Off I went.

Not so much roaring down the road as trundling towards destiny with a shopping basket.

I must have looked completely demented: a wobbly man hurtling through the streets on a three-wheeled mobility scooter, travelling at top speed while simultaneously going nowhere particularly quickly.

It was the slowest high-speed pursuit in British history.

Somehow, despite feeling dreadful, I reached the tattoo studio at around twelve o’clock.

The trolley of death had not missed a beat.

I parked it outside with a wry smile.

For once, a piece of equipment in my life had performed exactly as intended.

Naturally, I found this deeply suspicious.

At the Tattoo Studio

I climbed off the scooter and walked into the studio with the help of my stick.

I was extremely determined.

I was also extremely wobbly.

Each step carried the exciting possibility of an unscheduled meeting with the floor. Thankfully, it was only a short distance, although being knocked over outside the shop would have added a pleasingly dramatic final act to the morning.

The tattooist greeted me warmly and immediately put me at ease.

She was friendly, gentle and extremely knowledgeable. The entire experience was fantastic and one of the most pleasant things I have done in a long time.

The tattoo itself is amazing.

Honestly, it is perfect.

She was so gentle that I barely felt a thing. Of course, when you already have reduced sensation in your hand, getting tattooed becomes one of the few occasions when neurological numbness comes with a customer benefit.

It felt like little more than a faint pinch.

Things have changed considerably since my last tattoo. The equipment and techniques have moved forward, and I was surprised by how calm and comfortable the whole procedure was.

After a morning dominated by pain, low blood pressure and transport incompetence, sitting in a tattoo studio somehow became the restful part of the day.

Life is peculiar like that.

Going Home: Oh Dear God

I left the studio, climbed back onto the three-wheeled trolley of death and admired my new tattoo.

It looked absolutely awesome.

There was no pain. No trouble. Nothing.

For a brief and dangerous moment, I believed things were going well.

Then I attempted to go home.

The road from the tattoo studio leads down a fairly steep hill. Unfortunately, I took the wrong turning and became completely lost.

I spent around ten minutes riding in circles, wondering where the hell I was.

Everything looked the same.

Every building appeared to have been copied and pasted by a bored simulation designer.

I eventually went up a slight incline, believing it would lead to the main car park.

It did not.

Instead, it delivered me to the top of a narrow and extremely steep hill, barely wide enough for one car.

I asked a nearby woman for directions to the main car park.

She looked at the hill.

She looked at my scooter.

Then she looked at me with the unmistakable expression of someone preparing to become a witness.

She explained that the hill was extremely steep and seemed genuinely uncertain whether I would reach the bottom safely.

This was reassuring.

As regular readers may know, the brakes on the three-wheeled trolley of death are not its strongest feature.

They are less “precision braking system” and more “polite written request to reduce speed”.

Nevertheless, down I went.

Slowly.

Precariously.

Possibly accompanied by the distant laughter of Death, who had apparently taken the afternoon off but was still checking his emails.

Somehow, I reached the bottom without overturning, colliding with anything or becoming a local-news item.

From there, I found the car park and eventually made my way home.

A Friday of Two Halves

The day began with terrible pain, low blood pressure, neurological misery and the familiar feeling that MS had torn up my plans for its own amusement.

Then the taxi failed to appear.

Albertine could not drive because of her injured finger.

I was forced to race through town at eight miles per hour on a three-wheeled mobility scooter.

I got my tattoo.

I became lost.

I descended a hill on brakes apparently designed by someone who disliked disabled people.

And somehow, I got home safely.

All in all, it was quite an experience.

The morning came directly from hell.

The afternoon, unexpectedly, was rather lovely.

And the three-wheeled trolley of death?

It performed magnificently.

I may have to promote it to Three-Wheeled Trolley of Mildly Reckless Salvation.

But let us not get carried away.

It still has those brakes.

Survival Report Pain: ★★★★☆ Brain Fog: ★★★★★ Near-Death Experiences: 2 Taxi Reliability: -3/10 Scooter Heroics: Legendary Humour Level: Still Operational.

Today's Lesson: Never trust a taxi. Always trust the Three-Wheeled Trolley of Death. MS doesn't make appointments... it cancels them.

wishing everyone peace healing love and light no matter who you are

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

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

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

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

So, a very good morning to you fellow humanoids and sufferers out there with chronic illness. Yes, it's been quite a day indeed. I was up early in the usual pain through the autonomic dysfunction and well, I've had enough. I completely had enough. It's all very well having progressive MS, but through no fault of my own, this autonomic dysfunction has caused me great issues indeed.

Back in the 1980s I had an injection for hay fever and it appears that many people who had that same injection have now started to experience autonomic dysfunction at some levels so they stop that injection because it caused problems. Now I'm trying to make people understand that it is not always multiple sclerosis that causes issues and that I have autonomic dysfunction caused by histamine reactions in the body. My body cannot stand histamines whatsoever. It cannot even stand food that hasn't any histamines that causes a histamine reaction in the body. So I have to be so careful with everything I eat and summer is a nightmare. Plants, hay-fever- yes, you get the picture. It's a living hell for me.

So, as you know in November the ambulance was called and I refused to go into hospital. They said I was going to have a stroke due to something on the ECG being weird, and I told them I know what the issue is. It's my autonomic dysfunction and they sort of looked at me and well, they were really, really nice people and I signed a piece of paper and I said I'll have it all dealt with locally So that was back in November.

The goblin keeps track of all of it. Every “we’ll get back to you.” Every delay. Every time nothing actually happens.

I managed to see a doctor in November or was it December? And then I asked to see a neurologist about everything that was going on. I asked the MS nurse, I asked the doctor, and well, the MS nurse got back to me and said that the neurologist had said who I haven't seen or heard of in five years said to the MS nurse, you have to see an immunologist. It's got nothing to do with neurology. Yes, so I'm in this circle now where the neurology team don't want to know. and to try and get an appointment to see a immunologist is a joke. So I'm thinking, will I ever get to see one? I don't think I will. Unfortunately, my mind has turned into goblin brain. And as a goblin brain, that means I'm probably going to pals because I've had enough of all this bullshit. So yeah, it's been a real mind fuck of a morning.

Neurology says “not us.” MS team shrugs a bit and passes it along. Then I get told “you need immunology.” Immunology? Good luck getting anywhere near them unless you can bend time and bureaucracy itself.

I’ve had enough.

Enough of chasing things that should already be happening. Enough of repeating myself like I don’t exist beyond the last conversation. Enough of feeling like I’ve somehow got to prove I deserve to be taken seriously.

This is about what it feels like to get stuck in something that doesn’t move, while you’re the one dealing with the consequences.

I refuse to get to stressed over this still.. wishing everyone peace healing love and light no matter who or whatever you are ....

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

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

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

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

So good afternoon fellow humanoids, wherever or whomever you may be. Yes, it's one of those very frustrating afternoons. When you think I wish I could be doing something totally different than being stuck in this chair, looking out the window, watching all going on around me. I thought this afternoon I would try and do something different but now I am regretting it. I have a very large bruise on my leg and I am not feeling the best that's for sure. I overdid it. I thought that I would help. Albertine in the garden. Big mistake indeed.

I just wish I'd waited for the demon weed wacker to come over and do everything. And then I wouldn't have hurt myself, but there we go. You think you can do anything until you can't, but there we go. I won't tell you what I tried to lift or pull. I shouldn't have done it, but there we go. You still think you're superhuman. Your mind is acting like a 20 year old and your body is acting like a 120 year old person. I woke up feeling very strange and weird this morning for usual pain in the abdomen and all the nerves singing their morning musical as they do before my painful morning ablutions. And I felt rather good about myself as well. And I thought I would try and be helpful today. I think I've been helpful, but I have been lecturing Albertine about not, overdoing it, and I don't think that went down rather well.

Wow, and I've just seen the price of fuel unbelievable. Well, I'm glad I've got my three-wheel trolley of death. At least it takes a small charge, and it's cheaper to run, but I can only carry a few things, and it takes me hours to get anywhere on it. But there we go. I suppose there will be a lot fewer cars on the road. And then that will mean the roads will be a lot clearer for me to ride the roads of the southwest of England at a speed of 8 miles an hour for the death-defying three-wheel trolley of death. As Viper Storm said, "It should have go fast as stripes, but my friend Viper, who has also a three-wheeled sex trolley of death." Yes, indeed, that's what he has, and rides around north of the county. Oh indeed, what a marvelous sight to see indeed. He makes the fair maidens these buckle. Oh yes indeed. The man who invented the word plumstick.

As I sit here and fire up the volcano for my medical marijuana, I smile because I think to myself, well, at least I'm nearly human. as I have this goblin brain, ah ha. The goblin sometimes takes over and it can cause mayhem in my life. The goblin is that person that causes me more trouble than anything else in my life. The goblin is my multiple sclerosis. If you haven't guessed already, yes. Ah, the blog goblin, the goblin, is what I call my MS to be, fair. It seems the goblin is a bit of an alter ego. Just like my main persona, Mr. Warlock Dark, has been my persona now for so many years. I've forgotten 30 years, maybe 40 odd years. And he's been around the warlock. Yes, he's my alter ego, he's the real me. He's that person who is completely raw. Balls to the wall, says it like it is, doesn't like being censored or sanitized. Yes, but unfortunately, it seems that everything in my world has changed 360 degrees. And my God, I am so glad for those changes.

So yes, I have had my mind taken elsewhere by other things over the past few weeks when I discovered AI music generating programs. So that has taken up some of my time, but unfortunately I've been getting the severe brain fogs and been unable to do much as of late and it's really, really annoying. I just kind of sit there looking at that blank page wondering about what lyrics I'm going to use. But I must say I've even surprised myself with what I've done. I've even turned a lot of stories into lyrics as well for songs and turned them into songs. In fact, I've been doing all sorts of weird different things. But unfortunately only when my mind and head allows because it's just completely screwed up. I have the pain in my head. I just feel so tired all the time. I just feel so tired and the pain is just unbelievable. And this bloody tinnitus is just up force ten at the moment.

This autonomic dysfunction is also playing hell with my breathing as well and causing me severe problems. I have this problem with autonomic dysfunction, it's with me all the time and I can feel it all the time and I can feel the different levels that it goes up on. It's very strange and I'm waiting to see a neurologist still and I'm also waiting to see a Immunologist. But again, it's going to be long-winded and they're going to take their time. I've been told to see a neurologist, well, I haven't seen one in five or six years, to actually see when I've got to wait another five or six months, and to see a new immunologist, well, I've got to wait a month to see my doctor, so I can ask him to see a new immunologist as well. And it was my MS nurse that told me to contact my doctor's surgery, leave a message that I need to see the immunologist about my autonomic dysfunction and the histamine thing. But she said this would make things go quicker, but it hasn't, of course, it seems as though it's made things bloody worse as usual, because what with strikes, bureaucracy and one thing and another, it looks as though I am being left again and forgotten.

Still, I am used to being forgotten and treated weirdly by people, but I really couldn't give a damn. The thing is I'm never going to change and I'm not going to change for anyone. So there we go. I know my limits and I know what I can and cannot do. And I'm not going to let people tell me who or what I am. I am me. The thing is, multiple sclerosis hits people in many, many different ways. No two people are the same with MS. And it's the same with chronic illness in general. People who have chronic illness suffer 24/7. Some illnesses are hidden that we cannot see. And, you know, people have to realize that all chronic illness is something that is the harshest thing that can happen to anybody. It rages through their lives. It causes complete havoc. It causes a living hell for everybody. You lose friends. You have family who won't even speak to you. You have people that cannot even look you in the eye. You're treated differently. Sometimes you're treated like a pariah. All because you have a chronic illness. And in a power chair, people seem to treat you differently. They seem to treat you like you have something that's catching and they can catch it too if they get too near. Well, fuck them. That's what I say. Fuck them. And, yeah, they need to get themselves a life.

Any victory, no matter how small, is a victory. Still, I must finish here, sending everybody peace, healing and love and light. Take care and remember stay strong.

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...some AI medical content

Well, it's Monday afternoon and I am in quite considerable pain. I can't move my neck to my left or to my right and have been unable to do for a couple of days. Pain is absolutely unbelievably bad news. I'm still carrying on, but let's hope it goes soon. Apparently, I've got some ossyphates in my neck, that's bone growths that also complicate things with

the progressive MS and the autonomic dysfunction, yes, and a few other things wrong as well. But yeah, multiple sclerosis does not come on its own.

It can cause other things to happen to you. Indirectly due to the MS and what it does to your body via the nerves. Find enclosed a short brief statement from an AI about what it does.

AI Stuff Worst-case impacts of progressive Multiple Sclerosis (MS):

Permanent mobility loss – progressive weakness, spasticity, and balance failure can lead to needing a wheelchair full-time. Paralysis – partial or, in severe cases, near-complete loss of movement in legs or arms. Severe fatigue – crushing, daily exhaustion that doesn’t improve with rest. Chronic neuropathic pain – burning, stabbing, electric-shock sensations. Loss of bladder & bowel control – incontinence or retention requiring catheterization. Sexual dysfunction – reduced sensation, erectile dysfunction, loss of libido. Cognitive decline – slowed thinking, memory problems, poor concentration (“brain fog”). Depression & anxiety – very common; risk of suicidal thoughts is higher than in the general population. Personality or mood changes – emotional lability, irritability, apathy. Speech & swallowing problems – choking risk, need for modified diets or feeding support. Vision loss – optic nerve damage leading to blurred or permanent partial vision loss. Tremors & coordination loss – severe shaking that interferes with eating or writing. Muscle contractures – limbs becoming stiff and fixed due to prolonged immobility. Pressure sores – from long-term wheelchair or bed use. Recurrent infections – especially urinary tract infections and pneumonia. Breathing weakness – in advanced stages, respiratory muscles can be affected. Increased cardiovascular risk – reduced mobility contributes to higher risk of blood clots, deconditioning, and secondary heart strain. Shortened life expectancy (in severe cases) – usually due to complications rather than MS itself. MS doesn’t directly damage heart muscle the way a primary cardiac disease does. But it can disrupt autonomic nervous system pathways in the brainstem and spinal cord — the wiring that controls heart rate and rhythm. When those signals misfire, you can see: Heart rhythm abnormalities Conduction issues (like bundle branch block) Unstable heart rate (too fast, too slow, erratic) Blood pressure dysregulation Orthostatic intolerance (feeling faint on standing) On top of that: Reduced mobility → deconditioning of the cardiovascular system Chronic inflammation → increased long-term cardiovascular risk Severe fatigue → less activity → compounding strain on the heart So while doctors sometimes treat heart issues as “separate,” in progressive MS the nervous system disruption can absolutely be part of the cascade. And the frustrating bit? It’s often under-discussed.

thank you AI

You see it's not the multiple sclerosis that will kill you. It is often something else. But as the AI pointed out, it's not very well discussed. It's not a very big topic. So I intend to research and do some more on this topic because it might be very interesting to some people.

I don't think people realize just how our immune system screwed. People with MS and progressive MS have a completely screwed auto immune system. So, just a common cold to us is the worst thing that can happen. Imagine flu or something of that order. That is the worst thing that can happen to somebody with MS. Or a chest infection. That's not the best either. Or sickness and diarrhea. That's even worse. I mean, there's some of these things people don't realize. When you have an altered or a dysfunctional immune system, it causes havoc over all of the body. Yes, it does. It causes total havoc.

So you have to relearn how to live your life daily because of all the issues that you have. And to be honest, people probably wouldn't realize what you have to do just to overcome one or two simple issues in a day. The fatigue, the brain fog, and the sheer pain and the sheer pain in the head and the pain in the body. And that feeling in the head of, I just can't go on, I've just got to go and lie down. And then when you lay down, you're just as bad as when you were standing up. Yeah, that's fatigue, mental fatigue, stress, and all those things that other people kindly put in a cupboard. and politely do not talk about either, because it is an emotive subject between couples, I would imagine, and even parents and children and parents Who are unfortunate enough to be dealing with multiple sclerosis or any chronic illness.

So, I have been trying the Linux Mint over the past few days and it has been going quite well. I've only been managing bite size 10 minutes here and 10 minutes there. But I must say I'm learning one or two new things a day and I think that's just enough to be remembering. So on this blog post I decided to use AI Help with some of it, but not all of it, just the bits that are medical so I don't fuck up. Aha!

The weekend was quite fraught with the kittens who were in season and Missy the kitten has taken to jumping on the top of the door and looking around the room and mewing at us. So yeah, that's all good, isn't it? So she's done most doors in the house now and we've got scratch marks up and down doors. Oh well, that means Tom the painter man's going to have to come round and sort that out.

Still, I suppose it's the physiotherapist this week, but I may just put him off because I feel really bad, and I think that's what I'm going to do. Hopefully by the end of this next month, we should have the new garage door and side door fitted. We've been waiting for quite a time for this. And hopefully it will coincide with my new power chair, the quickie 300 that I'm getting. I've been waiting a few years, but it's definitely worth it. I'm going to be able to get out and about, and I'm able to go out and live my life and do those things that you just cannot do on the three-wheel trolley of death.

Talking of the three-wheel trolley of death, we have to head out in the week to go to the chemists. To go and see the AI machine of certain death, destruction and dementia. The chemists machine that distributes the prescriptions. Yes, it always seems to go funny when it sees me it will break down. Yes, it is a machine that hates me. But my three-wheeled machine of death, let's hope the battery is up to doing what it needs to do. As yes, how many more new batteries do we need this year? and the three-wheel trolley of death with the brakes that are non-existent and the balance of a drunk kipper on a night out with a jellyfish whilst drinking whiskey.

And changing the subject totally, we have seen quite a few white orbs in the living room. We have managed to record them on infrared cameras. And we are looking at the film and seeing what they could possibly be. As many years ago, I would say 30 or 40 years ago, I was handed some photographs by some very strange people claiming to be reporters from a local paper. And they handed me these photographs. And it was pictures of fields and they had these white orbs. And they were bigger than footballs. I would say two or three times the size of footballs. Now, funnily enough, I put these pictures through AI because I thought they were fake. And the AI said these photographs were genuine. But going back, this is probably the early 90s, late 80s when this paper came round. And anyway, I had contacted the paper and they'd never heard of these people before. So yeah, that was quite a mind fuck.

This is when all the great strangeness started And in real terms has never since gone away. Just because I reported something, 'bufora' and it caused a chain of events which, to be honest with you, has blown my mind for the past 42 plus years. But still, that's life, as they say.

Still fellow humanoids, I trust you had a great weekend. If you didn't, I can well understand. Anyhow, sending everybody out there, peace, healing, love and light, no matter who or what you are. Especially the sentient ones from all the weird dimensions and places out there. You are no doubt watching us. I'd like to say a big hello, make yourself known.

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 very 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.

hello fellow Humanoids So it's Friday afternoon and I'm looking out of the window and the rain and the wind is howling absolutely everywhere. Well, the outcome of this week has been okay I suppose. The AA man came out and he put the new battery on our rusty one. And then we were told the starter motor is iffy. So rusty one needs a recondition starter motor. Oh the joys. Rusty old vans I should know and then there's all the other bits and pieces that have to be done with it as well. The weather here and the salt air really doesn't do the van any favours but it has to be done I suppose.

Still, I've got a list of exercises from my physiotherapist to be doing to help. That was an interesting morning for sure, doing all that, as we got the dates wrong, and that was funny as well. Yeah. We thought it was the 28th and it wasn't. We got it wrong, oh dear me, never mind. But it all got sorted out. And I have a list of exercises I have to do in the mornings and evenings. So there we go, that should help with not getting to muscular atrophy as they call it I think.

Since I am no longer putting what I write through the artificial intelligence, I don't know whether this is a good or a bad thing or not. Do people want my raw voice? As it comes on the paper, spelling mistakes and all the other murdering of the British language that I do. Order people want me to put what I do through the AI and make it sound a bit more flowery and a bit more nice and a bit more sanitized. What do people want the bitter truth? Or do they want sanitisation? This is what I ask myself.

This blog isn't about having millions of people looking at what I have written and what I'm going through. It's about maybe two or three people reading it and finding some sort of help in my life, in my madness that is me. And if it helps people or a few people that's what it's all about in the end. I now have Missy the kitten looking at me and viewing as though to say, feed me please.

Still, it's now Saturday morning and it is absolutely chucking it down with rain. The clouds are dark as can be. It's just so unreal. Again today my head feels like a big pea souper. But there we go. I woke up in the night with the usual left hand side pain. When those nerves start going, my God there is no let up. And the pain is absolutely unbelievable. It's all to do with the way. I know this is not a good thing to talk about how the feces lies in the colon or the tube leading to the bum.

And all the nerves are up from my anus all the way up to the top of the throat. So all my nerves are like atomic bombs going off. So, as the poo goes through the tubes, it's nuclear bombs, you know what that's like. And the only way the pain ever really dulls down is when you've had a poo. And that's if you can have a poo, because nine times out of ten with all the medications, a lot of people find that constipation is a really, really bad side effect to a lot of modern day medications.

So, the thing is, you need to hydrate like crazy really. You need to drink a lot and take lots of nice fibre. I know. I tried all the medicines or the things to make you go, things to make you stuff. I've tried and been down the chemists and the doctors for all these problems, but I managed to sort most of it out myself by the change of diet, which has completely got rid of any constipation, and now I go regularly every morning without fail. I put this down to my total change of diet due to my histamine issues with my auto-monic dysfunction and my multiple sclerosis and the vagus nerve etc so I am on a limited diet.

So yes, just a basic flatbread with what? Four Or five ingredients? That makes all the difference. And I've managed to have it tailored to my specific tastes and needs. And my word, it really does work. No more constipation issues and going like a gooden as they say here. I will put a recipe up for the flatbread at some time. So you can see what you can put in it and how good it is for you. My word it, does an half change your stomach and your gut. I haven't felt this stomach good in absolutely years. My acid in my throat and stomach has stopped. It's unbelievable the changes.

Still, I hope you don't find this too boring, but yeah, it's been a bit of a bitch of a week and it's been very expensive. Rusty One now has to have a new starter motor, which, well, let's face it, is gonna cost. Still, I have my appointment for to go to see my new power chair. Yes, that apparently is in February, so I look forward to that. A nice three hour round trip. Why, they couldn't do that at my local hospital. Well, I do now. Do now. No. So there we go. Still, that's it from me and it might be more interesting next time round. But until then, sending everybody peace, healing, love and light, no matter whom or whatever or wherever you are in whatever universe or multiverse or place.

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

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

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

So we had the storm. Oh my god, the rain came down like a torrent that you would not believe. It was like Revelation and Armageddon the way that rain came and the way the wind just blew and blew. I could just hear everything clanging and just smashing around outside. I just hope when I go outside later in the power chair that it's nothing too expensive. But such is life when you are living in the Windy south West. A lot of trains have been cancelled and a lot of buses as well. But that's normal around here. And there's power cuts everywhere. That's also normal around here. But they don't last that long, thankfully.

So I also had the local physio around yesterday and he assessed me so that assessment should be interesting, very nice chap indeed, all sorted. Just waiting now for the other people to get in touch with me, hospitals and doctors, etc. I shall give it another couple of days and then I suppose I'm going to have to make some phone calls and see where we are. Or I suppose emails be better. There's nothing like having me on the other end of the phone when I'm in one of my cognitive funks. And I can't think of words. There's nothing more annoying than that I get really annoyed. as when you're trying to find simple words like, I don't, I can't give an example really, but just simple words or sentences or you change what you were talking about midway through and people can't follow what you're talking about sometimes and you find cognitively that you are all over the place. That's what I'm like these days and I have been for quite a long time and I think a lot of people don't realise just how common this is with multiple sclerosis and severe cognitive disorders in general.

So, I have found a bowel hack for MS. Basically, I found that I have been having made for me a flat bread made with all natural ingredients. Natural strong brown flour, you know, a little bit of olive oil, a bit of salt, a bit of yeast, blah blah blah mixed together. And then put on a griddle, blah blah blah with a load of ground linseed in. Now, the hack is linseed makes all you're pooping easier. There is no need for me to take laxatives or to have any gut wrenching medications to make me go. I had so many bowel issues they nearly gave me a colostomy bag, and I said no. And I'm glad I said no to the colostomy bag because I sorted my own issue out.

When you realize with MS, the nerves in the body cause your bowels to get totally fucked up, which causes issues with urination and also with pooing. I have spent most of my life with bowel issues due to MS and that auto whatever it is I've got wrong with me and I can tell you I have never had a period of time where my pooing has been so good and with this complete change of my daily food intake diet making sure there are no histamines in the food I am at last not having bad stomachs acid and I've managed to get my gut health back to some sort of personal semblance so for me personally changes have been long but I now know what I can and cannot eat so I am like a forensic scientist going through a piece of food looking at it seeing what's in it the whole nine yards so yeah diet is so important with chronic illness I did not realize food causes so many issues when you look into it it's an absolute minefield but if I'd have sorted my diet out 20 or 30 or even 40 years ago I don't think I would be as bad as I am now truthfully It's not just looking at labels either. What I've been doing is I've been putting the label through the AI and it's been giving me the total truth on the ingredients and what they do to my autonomic dysfunction in my MS and the causes and how it makes things worse. So yeah, I've gone down to a forensic level on my food diet and I've also done that with my medications as well that I take.

I take nothing that will give me any side effects as unfortunately if there's a side effect on the packet, I get it. You know, my body is hypersensitive due to my condition. But there we go, who would have thought that MS could have caused my heart conditions that I have? You wouldn't. But when your vagus nerve and your automatic or ortomunic dysfunction is going berserk due to histamines, you know, it causes heart issues. I didn't know that, but people, please, please remember this is my own personal journey and remember if you have any symptoms or any weirdness, see your physician or your neuro people or your MS nurse or whomever you speak to. Seek professional help always. Remember that.

And remember MS is a very, very, very scary journey. Anybody who says is not, is a liar. MS has been very scary for me. It's a massive headfuck. It really does fuck with your head and your cognitive issues, you know, the pain, everything. It really does send your head into some very, very strange places. And even I admit here now that it has caused me mental issues and I have even had to seek help due to this. So if you are suffering in any way, you really do seek help. It is something that a lot of people don't talk about. But yes, I have had mental health issues over the last past eight years and I say to people, get help because help is something that will get you out of a place that you have got no need to be in. MS is a cruel mistress, as I say, but don't let it beat you. Always fight it. Treat MS as something that is just plain horrible and just fight it tooth and nail for everything that you are worth. Give it a run for its money like I do.

I try not to let it beat me. Even when you are at your worst, even when you are at your lowest point, even when the pain is so bad that you want to give up, even though everything is crushing you, stick your middle finger up to the MS and say, "Stuff you bastard, you're not going to beat me." Be positive, fight the illness, I know I have for the past 40 odd years, and yeah, it's been hard, it's been harsh, but I tell you what, I wouldn't change my life for anything now, because life is to be lived and it is to learn, and what I have, I accepted a long time ago, and I know my future isn't bright or brilliant, but I've accepted what and who I am.

Yes, I may be marmite man and have no friends, I may say what I think, and I may have a tinfoil hat on, and I may say strange things, and I may see things, but I'm just being me. Hey, let's all just be ourselves .... because we have all had to change our lives and we have all had to adapt in many ways because of our illnesses and the adaption is hard. Yes it is, but we eventually do get there, we eventually do change the way we do things and we change our lives to a life that a person, a normal person wouldn't even recognise. So yeah, we give up everything really, we give up friendships, lives, normal lives, we get looked at funnily, we get laughed at when we're in a wheelchair, get called names even. But I don't really care about all that. I just care about myself and my close family and Albertine. I care about our future and happiness.

Still I send peace, healing, love and light to everyone who reads this and wish them a pleasant weekend when it arrives and let's hope the weather calms down in the southwest of England. Oh yes, and I'm still stuck indoors, still waiting to phone up the AA so I can get rusty one started up so I can take myself down to the wheelchair centre in February and trial out my new wheelchair. The saga goes on but I wouldn't have it any other way.

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.

Yes, folks nxt week it’s going to be mind-bending. I’m starting a weekly podcast. A weekly rant. A weekly therapy session disguised as sarcasm.

And the first episode? My favourite subject: wheelchair batteries. You know, those little lying bastards that promise 14 miles on the label but wheeze to a stop after one? Then you’re stuck halfway to nowhere, looking like an abandoned mobility meme.

It’s going to be short, sharp, dark, and real about MS, mental health, and the ridiculousness of surviving the system one dead battery at a time.

So yeah, that’s My Living Hell. No filters. No fake smiles. Just the truth, swearing included.

🎧 Episode 1 drops next week. If you’ve ever been stranded, broken, or laughing through the pain you’ll fit right in.

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

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

⚠️ 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.

“Cannabis isn’t a cure. But for me (and many others) it sometimes feels like lowering the waterline so I’m not constantly drowning.”

Living with multiple sclerosis is like being handed a body that’s half-conspirator, half-prison guard. One day it lets you move, the next it locks you in with pain, spasms, and exhaustion. People who don’t live it often don’t get it. That ignorance can make conversations about treatments uncomfortable—especially when cannabis comes up.

Cannabis still carries heavy stigma. For decades it’s been painted as the drug of lazy teenagers, a dangerous gateway, or a “last resort.” But the reality is more complicated. For many with MS, cannabis isn’t about chasing a high it’s about clawing back a bit of life. It’s not a cure, and it never will be. What it can do, in the right form, for the right person, is bring relief. Sometimes small, sometimes significant, always worth noticing.

What the evidence actually says

Science is messy, but let’s strip it down to what we know. Cannabis is a plant, yes, but the two compounds that matter most in MS treatment are:

THC (tetrahydrocannabinol): The part that makes people high. Psychoactive, strong, and for some people, too much.

CBD (cannabidiol): Doesn’t produce a high. Interacts differently in the body, often described as the calming counterpart to THC.

Together, in carefully balanced medical products, they can target symptoms that MS brings to the table.

Spasticity: where cannabis shines

This is the symptom where cannabis shows the clearest benefit. Studies and lived experience show that THC+CBD sprays such as Sativex (available in the UK under specialist prescription) can reduce muscle stiffness and spasms. People report less pain, easier sleep, and more control. Clinical tools that doctors use don’t always capture the full effect, but patients’ own reports matter. Relief you can feel is relief that counts.

Neuropathic pain: promising, but mixed

Neuropathic pain is one of the cruellest symptoms of MS burning, stabbing, electric shocks that don’t stop. Some trials show cannabis extracts help reduce this pain, particularly when other drugs fail. Others find only modest benefits. What’s clear is that many patients experience genuine improvement, even if not every study proves it on paper.

Sleep and quality of life: secondary gains

When stiffness and pain ease, sleep improves. Better sleep ripples out into mood, energy, and daily functioning. These knock-on benefits often don’t make it into study data, but they matter enormously in real life.

Why the stigma lingers

Say “cannabis” and too many people still picture a stoner on a sofa surrounded by crisp packets. For someone with MS, that stereotype is a slap in the face. You’re not looking to escape you’re trying to ease spasticity enough to get through the night without screaming into your pillow.

The stigma is political and cultural, not medical. Cannabis was demonised for decades, and even though attitudes are shifting, the old narratives cling on. In the UK, cannabis-based medicines are legal—but only under strict circumstances, and only through specialist doctors. Most GPs can’t or won’t prescribe. That leaves many people sourcing CBD oils or black-market products, where quality is questionable and legality is a grey cloud hanging overhead.

Risks and realities

Let’s not polish this into a miracle. Cannabis has risks. Honesty is what dismantles stigma, not over-promising.

Cognitive fog: MS already messes with memory and focus. THC can worsen that for some.

Mental health risks: High-THC strains can trigger anxiety or paranoia, especially in people already vulnerable.

Physical side effects: Dizziness, fatigue, nausea, and changes in heart rate or blood pressure.

Dependence: Rare with medical, controlled use, but not impossible.

These don’t mean cannabis is “bad.” They mean it’s a tool, and tools need skill to use safely. The difference between relief and trouble often comes down to dose, formulation, and medical oversight.

Why it matters anyway

Here’s the thing: when you live with MS, symptom relief is gold dust.

Even a 20% drop in pain, even one less night of spasms, even an extra hour of sleep it all adds up. That can mean the difference between being stuck in bed all day or having enough energy to make breakfast. Between drowning in pain and keeping your head above water.

Cannabis offers that to some. Not all, not always, but enough that it deserves respect and consideration rather than judgement and whispers.

What needs to change

Research is still catching up. Decades of stigma slowed everything down. What we need now are:

More trials: Larger, longer, better-designed studies.

Clearer guidance: What dose works? Which formulation spray, oil, vapor, capsule?

Doctor training: So patients aren’t left educating their own clinicians.

Legal access: Safe, regulated supply that doesn’t force people into the shadows.

Until then, people with MS continue to experiment quietly, often without the support they deserve.

The bottom line

Cannabis won’t cure MS. It won’t rewind the clock, repair nerves, or erase uncertainty. But it can lower the waterline. It can turn nights of relentless spasms into nights of sleep. It can dull the sharp edge of pain. It can hand back small fragments of control, and in a life where MS takes so much, those fragments matter.

So let’s talk about cannabis without shame, without stigma, and without fantasy. Let’s call it what it is: a tool. Not a miracle, not a menace, but something that, for many, makes life with MS just a little more bearable.

Quick facts: Cannabis & MS

Not a cure. Cannabis doesn’t reverse MS; it’s used for symptom relief.

Most evidence = spasticity. THC+CBD sprays (e.g., nabiximols/Sativex) show the clearest benefit for muscle stiffness and spasms.

Pain help is promising. Many people report reduced neuropathic pain; trials are mixed but patient reports matter.

Sleep & quality of life: Indirect benefits (better sleep, less waking from spasms) often improve day-to-day functioning.

Risks exist: possible cognitive slowing, anxiety/paranoia with high-THC, dizziness, cardiovascular effects, and dependence risk.

Formulation matters: spray, oil, vaping, or edibles deliver different effects — dose and ratio (THC:CBD) are key.

Legal note (UK): Medicinal cannabis is prescribable but tightly regulated; specialist prescription is usually required.

Practical tip: Start low, go slow. Use reliable sources and consult a clinician familiar with MS and cannabis.

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

𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᚹᚨᚱᛚᛟᚲ ᛞᚨᚱᚲ ✦ 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ ᚨᛗᛟᚾᚷ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱᛋ

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk

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

So, chronic illness. A joyride through hell in a wheelchair made of barbed wire. If you’re in the club, I don’t need to tell you it’s exhausting, absurd, and sometimes the only option left is to laugh before you cry yourself into a flare.

Here are 10 “fun” facts about chronic illness that might make you laugh, groan, or throw something.

1. The “Invisible” Magic Trick I’m fine. I look fine. Until I’m not. My body does the disappearing act of a Vegas magician, minus the applause. Cue the genius asking: “But you don’t look sick?” You’re right, Sherlock. Neither does Wi-Fi, and yet here we are.

2. Chronic Illness Is Weirdly Popular Statistically, over half of adults have at least one chronic condition. That’s right, 50% of people are secretly walking (or limping) into the club. Pity the membership perks are rubbish.

3. Genetics: The Family Heirloom No One Wanted Some families pass down houses, jewellery, or good bone structure. Mine passes down arthritis and dodgy immune systems. Cheers, ancestors.

4. The Bonus Round: Mental Health It’s not just your body. Chronic illness takes your mind out back and kicks it around too. Depression, anxiety, stress it’s like getting the “deluxe” package nobody ordered.

5. Cure? Ha. Science is trying, bless them. But for now, it’s all “management.” Basically, we live in the land of trial-and-error self-care. Sometimes exercise and kale help. Sometimes they just remind you that life is a cruel joke.

6. Lifestyle as a Job Description Managing your health is like being a houseplant with trust issues. Food, light, water, stress control. Do it right and you might thrive. Do it wrong and you wilt in public.

7. Predictability? Never Heard of Her. You plan a nice day? A flare hears you and says, “Not on my watch.” Your body is basically a toxic relationship: charming when good, brutal when bad.

8. Personal Growth, Whether You Like It or Not You get tough, resourceful, and annoyingly self-aware. Like a Jedi, but with a stick instead of a lightsaber. Independence? Optional. Asking for help? Necessary.

9. Tech Symbiosis Welcome to cyborg life. Fitbits, apps, pill alarms machines have become my sidekicks. My body rebels; my tech tattles. Together, we’re barely functional.

10. You’re Not Alone It feels isolating, but the internet is crawling with people who get it. Forums, Facebook, Reddit, Insta tribes they exist, and they’ll make you feel less like a freak in the void.

Closing Thoughts Chronic illness isn’t fun. It’s savage. It rips your plans apart, laughs in your face, and occasionally ruins your life for sport. But it also forces you to find humour in places most people would rather look away from. That’s resilience. That’s survival. And if nothing else you’re not alone in the madness.

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

𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᚹᚨᚱᛚᛟᚲ ᛞᚨᚱᚲ ✦ 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ ᚨᛗᛟᚾᚷ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱᛋ