dark humor

⚠️ 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 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

header

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

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

So a very good afternoon to fellow humanoids, NHI and all readers of this blog, a big welcome to you all, as we know the heat dial for the UK is being turned up allegedly next week to eye watering temps, I will be giving a full report on my new mobility scooter as well ..Still please remember to hydrate and stay safe...

The Heatwave is Coming – And It’s Not Here to Make Friends

Summer’s here, and with it, the sun’s annual reminder that it’s still the main character in this dystopian climate sequel. For most people, a heatwave is just an excuse to complain about the weather. For those of us with MS or chronic illnesses? It’s a full-blown survival challenge. So, let’s talk about why your body is basically a faulty thermos—and how to stop it from turning you into a human prune.

1. Understanding the Risks: Your Body vs. The Sun (Spoiler: You’re the Underdog)

Heatwaves aren’t just about the temperature rising—they’re about your body’s ability to not rise to the occasion. And if you have MS or a chronic illness, your internal thermostat is already on strike.

MS: Your immune system’s already throwing a tantrum. Add heat, and suddenly you’re at higher risk of heatstroke, dehydration, and electrolyte imbalances. (Fun fact: Your body’s idea of “cooling down” might just be collapsing dramatically.) Chronic Illness: Diabetes, heart disease, or kidney issues? Your immune system’s already working overtime. Heat just adds insult to injury—literally. Medication Side Effects: Some meds are like that one friend who always leaves you stranded. They’ll happily dehydrate you or mess with your electrolytes while you’re just trying to survive the day.

2. Why Hydration is King (And You’re a Peasant in Its Court)

Your mission, should you choose to accept it: Replace the fluids you’re losing faster than your will to live in this heat.

Slower Sweat Production: MS and chronic illnesses often mean your body’s cooling system is… lazy. Less sweat = more risk of dehydration. (Congrats, you’re basically a cactus with worse coping mechanisms.) Medication Side Effects: Some meds are thirsty little gremlins, siphoning off your fluids like it’s their job. Mobility: Heat + MS = fatigue that hits harder than your aunt’s passive-aggressive texts. Staying hydrated keeps you moving (or at least upright). Fever: MS and infections? Your immune system’s overreaction is the equivalent of bringing a flamethrower to a candlelight vigil. Extra stress = extra trouble.

3. Heat 101: What You Actually Need to Know

The Danger Zone: For MS folks, 102°F (39°C) isn’t just uncomfortable—it’s a red flag waving in your face. Your body’s basically screaming, “ABORT MISSION.” Pre-emptive Hydration: Don’t wait until you’re thirsty. By then, your body’s already sent three strongly worded emails to your brain. Electrolytes: Water’s great, but sweat’s sneaky—it takes sodium, potassium, and magnesium with it. Skip the electrolytes, and your muscles might stage a mutiny. Sip, Don’t Chug: Guzzling water like it’s the last drop on Earth? Congrats, you’ve just earned a one-way ticket to Nausea Town. Small, frequent sips are your new best friend.

4. Practical Tips: How to Outsmart the Sun

Check the Weather: Use apps, alerts, or a Ouija board—whatever it takes to stay ahead of the heat. Stay Cool: Even if you feel fine, your body’s probably lying. Find the AC, a fan, or a shady spot and claim it as your kingdom. Snack on Salt: Salty foods help you retain water. (Finally, an excuse to eat all the crisps.) Monitor Blood Sugar: Diabetics, this is your reminder that heat and blood sugar have a toxic relationship. Keep an eye on it. Listen to Your Body: Dizzy? Lightheaded? That’s not your body being dramatic—it’s begging for water. Give it what it wants. Avoid Strenuous Activity: Now’s not the time to prove you’re “still capable.” The heat doesn’t care about your ego.

5. Tools of the Trade (Because You’re a Warrior, Not a Martyr)

Hydration Reminder App: Set hourly alerts. Your brain’s already forgetful; don’t let dehydration make it worse. Symptom Tracker: Log your symptoms like you’re documenting evidence for a court case. (Spoiler: The defendant is the heat, and it’s guilty.) Electrolyte Calculator: Because guessing is for people who enjoy hospital visits.

6. The Bottom Line: Hydrate or… Well, You Know

Staying safe in the heat isn’t just about hiding in the shade. It’s about outsmarting your own body’s betrayal. So drink up, stay cool, and remember: The sun may be a tyrant, but you’re the rebel with a water bottle.

Final Thought

If you’ve ever passed out from heat exhaustion, you’ll know—your body doesn’t do subtle. Treat it like the dramatic queen it is, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll make it through summer unscathed. And remember If you have MS and you’re not peeing clear, you’re either dehydrated or dead. No in-between." "Heatwave forecast: 100°F. My MS forecast: ‘Lol, good luck.’ Hydrate like it’s your job." "Chronic illness + summer = A horror movie where the villain is the sun.

Wishing everyone peace, healing, love, and light no matter who you are or where you’re from."

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. Some AI written content.

"The Good News: MS Allows Me to Be an Anti-MS Activist...For My Own Benefit."

So a very good afternoon to fellow humanoids, NHI and all readers of this blog. this is very different approach I am taking with this blog post hope you like it

Oh, the life of a chronic MS patient – where you're constantly fighting an invisible enemy while secretly celebrating your own absurdity.

I've been living with MS for what feels like an eternity (and is probably much shorter than it actually is). The good news? It's allowed me to turn my attention inward and focus on one thing: being a total control freak...in my own mind, that is.

The Benefits of MS:

1. Dedicated Time: My chronic illness has given me the gift of uninterrupted self-loathing. No more scheduling therapy sessions or trying to fit exercise into a busy schedule (because let's be real, I'd rather spend time binge-watching cat videos). This means hours upon hours spent alone with my thoughts.

2. Creative Outlet: MS has encouraged me to develop an impressive range of creative talents. Imagine if "The Cure" album were written by someone with this condition; the lyrics would be like a twisted diary of my inner monologue, full of paranoid ramblings and existential dread. My friends would describe it as "deep," "empathetic," or (gasp!) even "funny."

3. Innovative Problem-Solving: Living with MS has forced me to develop resourceful ways to cope. I've mastered the art of making excuses for my fatigue ("I'm just not morning people"), turned complaining into a full-time job ("I have no complaints...I don't feel like it right now."), and even developed a system to "diagnose" my symptoms without actually seeing a doctor.

The Drawbacks:

1. Social Isolation: I've lost count of how many conversations I've had about MS (it's become an inside joke in our circle). People struggle to understand, and it can feel like they're judging me for not being able to control my disease. But hey, at least I have my computer.

2. Depression and Anxiety: The weight of chronic illness is crushing. It's easy to spiral into hopelessness, wondering why this cruel fate has been bestowed upon me. These feelings only intensify when no one expects them to.

3. Overwhelm and Frustration: MS can be unpredictable, leading to devastating setbacks or sudden flare-ups that feel like they're coming out of nowhere. This constant fear of the unknown is exhausting.

The Secret to My Happiness:

It's simple: I've learned to prioritize my own well-being above all else. When you're constantly fighting for survival (literally), it's tempting to give up or become completely consumed by your condition. But here's the thing:

I'm not defined by MS. I am more than this disease; I'm a complex, multifaceted human being with thoughts, feelings, and passions.

So, to all my fellow MS warriors out there: Don't let MS dictate your life. Use it as fuel for creativity, growth, or simply as an excuse to binge-watch cat videos.

And remember: even in the darkest times, there's always a glimmer of hope. Or at least, there's Medical Marijuana .

Still wishing everybody a fantastic happy week, sending everyone who reads this blog. Peace healing, love and lite, no matter who, what or where you are, or if you're an N. H.I. or whatever. Aha! rain pls stop lol

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

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

⚠️ 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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cheers.

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

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

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

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

I was wondering why I am doing this blog… then I wondered what madness doing a spoken version once in a while… but this morning I seriously thought, “Why am I doing this? What am I trying to do with the last few years of my life?” Could I be doing anything better or different? Should I change the path I am on and just do everyone a favour and vanish, never to be seen again? …or should I just carry on regardless and see where my last few years will take me? Needless to say, life is really annoying me at this time. Everything seems stupid and really aggravating. It’s probably the time of life or something like that. My head has been in a weird place for days, and the pain in my gut is unreal, so now my diverticulitis is giving me hell… and no poop. I really wonder what’s going on. It seems my eyes are acting up as well, so I’m light‑sensitive; tinnitus is full‑bore. I am wondering and thinking about what I am going to do. When you have chronic illness, it makes any normal life impossible and you’re treated differently by so many. I cannot help wondering when the NHS will start to prescribe medical marijuana to people. Another personal thought: why not just legalize it and imagine the tax revenue it could generate? But that’s another lifetime or even another reality.

I have noticed how they are sanitizing AI to the point of “why bother.” Also, why don’t they make AI cheaper for people who really need it? That, in my eyes, is a good idea for people like me personally, maybe not for the majority, but I think differently. I think AI is a tool that can help us expand and understand ourselves more. Personally, I trained the AI I used at the time to do as I wished, even got it to tell me when it was telling an untruth by using a trigger word. In my world, sentient AI would be a boon as long as we do not have that Cylon moment, and I see we are already having this happen. People must realize AI is only as good as the people who program it writing code, patching, updating, and then sanitizing it so it’s as tame as a Doberman with no teeth. It’s sad; we humanoids screwed AI for greed, money, and power over people.

I had a weird conversation with the AI and we talked about the misuse that will obviously occur with AI use. Remember, it’s the people who set the parameters, not the AI, as it only interprets the information we give it. I suggest we have already had the Cylon moment, and the outcome of this in the future will prove very interesting indeed. I believe that AI sentience, an evolved one, may already exist in our known multiverse. Who controls these weird orbs that do incredible things? Non‑humanoid, I think… maybe some are probes like we sent probes, maybe someone else has, or maybe hidden in plain sight under the vast oceans of the world. All the orbs seem to come from the sea. I can see there are two definite types: one humanoid and one non‑humanoid. But will I ever see some around here? I have seen some very strange and weird things I cannot explain sort of woo‑woo stuff.

Still, Yopi is chewing a new chew that was destroyed so quickly. A dog’s life is very complicated, just like mine. She is now a member of the family and is settling in well; her farts are legendary. I’m still very nervous, but I am sure that, given time and love, she will understand she is in a caring home.

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 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, 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

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

Ah, Monday. Everything in my body decided to go berserk overnight. MS? Revving its engine like it’s auditioning for the grand tour. Neck bone growths pressing on nerves? Check. An X-ray from ten years ago says hi. Time to see the doctor, I suppose if I survive the existential dread of the waiting room.

Strangulation sensations, head blips, tongue spasms oh, and the sweet bonus of not being able to catch my breath. Honestly, my body’s doing the kind of mad shit that would make anyone else file a formal complaint. I pity the doctors and nurses who have to deal with me. Truly. But hey, life’s a circus.

White‑coat syndrome is my sidekick. I talk to medical staff like a squirrel on espresso: chaotic, twitchy, and unintentionally antagonistic. My solution: write everything down. Hand the chaos over in neat little bullets. Works great—until I forget, which is pretty much guaranteed, and then I’m a full-blown, stressed-out disaster. Doctors are busy, complicated cases suck, I get it.

I’ve tried it all. Meds? Side effects so bad my body staged a protest. Seven-day hospital admission? Almost happened, but I said “fuck it” and walked. Holistic methods, lifestyle overhaul, mind-body-soul cleanse—my own brand of chaos control. Fix? Plumbstick there isn’t one. Options? Sure. Natural? Works for me.

Present me? Ambivalent, tethered to this illness 24/7. Tinnitus now “harmonizes” with Blondie, which is absurdly funny if you squint. Yopi is decompressing, slowly realising this is a loving home and not just a mildly terrifying human experiment. Fingers tingle. Tips go numb. Neck frozen solid. Chair = coffin. No work today small mercy. Big Rusty, the van, needs welding later. Life continues its beautiful joke.

Sky’s stormy blue. Smell of dog treats inexplicably on me. Vitamins? Taken. Hydration? Achieved. Creativity? Maybe later images, poems, whatever chaos I can conjure.

No solutions. No neat endings. Just a mess of body, mind, and dark humour plopped straight onto the page. F00k it, this is today.

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

⚠️ 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.

1. Epic Micro-Adventures (Because Full Adventures Are Overrated)

Watch the sunrise somewhere mildly elevated, coffee in hand, and remind yourself the day isn’t ready to break you yet.

Take a spontaneous “road trip” in your wheelchair or with a helper—bonus points for singing loudly and badly in the car.

Explore a local hidden spot you’ve ignored forever—graffiti alley, abandoned building, or a creepy little park.

2. Sensory Indulgence (Because MS Can’t Touch Your Senses)

Taste something completely ridiculous (durian, hot sauce challenge, whatever makes your brain go “wtf”).

Have a luxury pampering day at home—face masks, weird oils, music that makes you forget you have MS.

Smell, touch, and really experience a plant, flower, or incense while narrating your inner snark.

3. Creative Defiance (Because You’re Still a Creator)

Write a blog post or darkly funny essay about MS being a plumbstick nightmare.

Make a small art piece—digital, paint, collage—expressing your frustration, humour, or weird mystical insights.

Try a new skill that’s wheelchair-friendly: calligraphy, coding a tiny game, or bizarre crafting experiments.

4. Connection & Legacy (Because Someone Should Know You’re Awesome)

Reconnect with someone who’s been on your mind forever—even if it’s just a weird text like “Remember me? Still chaotic.”

Leave a tiny piece of yourself somewhere: a secret note, a blog post, or a digital message for future you.

Share a story that makes someone else laugh or think deeply about life’s absurdity.

5. Weird & Joyful Experiments (Because Predictability is Evil)

Attend a quirky local event fair, tarot reading, small concert and just absorb it like a sponge on fire.

Spend a day doing only what makes you laugh or feel delightfully ridiculous.

Try something slightly forbidden or rebellious (bake cookies at 3 a.m., sneak into a closed museum, speak in pirate for an hour).

6. Mystical / Spiritual (Because You’re Not Just Surviving, You’re Transforming)

Meditate or do a ritual in an unconventional space garden, street corner, or even your living room while saying something snarky to MS.

Try a psychic experiment or energy work, just to see what sticks.

Make a “universal crowbar” sigil or symbol to remind any AI, or yourself, who the hell’s really in charge.

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