Disability Awareness

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

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

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

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

This isn't one of them.

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

Welcome to the asshole in the room.

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

It's amazing, the mind.

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

Memory is a strange old beast.

Until the asshole walks in.

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

I call it the asshole in the room.

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

Then the asshole strolls in without knocking.

He sweeps everything off the table.

Thought gone.

Word gone.

Sentence gone.

Not hiding.

Not almost there.

Gone.

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

Multiple sclerosis doesn't just attack your legs.

It attacks your bloody operating system.

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

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

Finally he looked at me and asked,

"How do you function?"

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

"No."

"What about a photo?"

"No."

Apparently it was "grim."

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

Funny that.

One minute you're a medical disaster.

The next you're technical support.

Living with MS is full of those moments.

People see the wheelchair.

They see the out of control beard.

The hat.

The sunglasses.

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

The constant buffering.

The loading icon.

The random system crashes.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm losing the plot.

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

Sometimes I think too much.

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

I've stopped worrying about looking eccentric.

I'm sixty-six.

I've earned eccentric.

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

Life is strange.

MS makes it stranger.

But neither of them gets to decide who I am.

So if I stop halfway through a conversation...

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

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

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

The thought was there.

The asshole just nicked it.

He usually gives it back.

Eventually.

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

I'm still here.

I'm just buffering.

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

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

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

⚠️ 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

What an absolutely glorious Saturday it is today. A very good morning to you all. Fellow humanoids NHI and whomever reads THIS. Well, it's been an exceptionally hot Saturday morning and Albertine and myself went out on the three-wheel-trolley of death. Yes, it was an absolute death-defying ride into the town and beyond. As usual, people were watching and smiling As we rode by on our three-wheeled scooters of death, . Quite a few people shouted hello and I pulled over and had conversations with many people this morning which was refreshing and really enjoyable I must say.

Where can I get one of those mobility scooters?

And of course the number one question was mobility scooters and wow they really liked mine! And I told them yes it is good but... I have a few issues going uphill with grip as it's a front wheel drive. But I have learnt to overcome this now. It's all to do with positioning and the amount of power that you lay down from the throttle to the motor. Going at slow increments is better than whacking back the throttle. So far, quite a few people have asked where I've got it from. Well, like I said, it's a cheap Chinese mobility scooter off the internet. And I gave them the name of the company and there we go. And I would imagine they're off to that website to say, "Hey, I want one of those." Because they really do look quite cool. And they are under £1000 as well. So that is even more mind blowing. And if you're disabled like me and you're that exempt for things to do with mobility, then you don't have to pay the VAT. So that's an even better and good reason for getting one. I can quite honestly say that it has changed my world. I can go practically anywhere and really does make a difference. The cost of running a car and van has gone completely out of control. What with the cost of fuel, insurance and everything else? So yeah. That's where we're at now. scooters rule okay.

maintenance the key to longevity of your mobility scooter

Remember maintenance will save you a lot of money in the long run if you buy one of these cheap mobility scooters make sure all the bearings are lubricated and that you have either solid tyres or carry one of those USB pumps along with one of those liquids you can put in the Tyre if you get a puncture. You know sensible things a bit of rope so if you're actually with somebody and their trolley goes down you can actually tow someone. That's a good thing to take with you and also take plenty of water for hydration as well and also take an old wibbly wobbly bike spanner because you never know when you're going to need a spanner. And also did you know if you break down and you're a member of one of the motoring services like the AA or RAC You are able to phone them up and get them to recover your mobility scooter I know it sounds insane but you can. My scooter is insured, taxed and also has a registration certificate So everything is completely legal and that really is the only way to go... Also remember to keep your scooter in a warm place as well, because cold is the biggest killer of Mobility Scooter batteries.

So if there is anybody out there who is looking to get themselves a scooter or a "let me see" a mobility trolley then go for it it will save you in the long run an awful lot of money, you get to go everywhere but it will be a little slower but who cares you can just put your headphones in your ears and just go along and enjoy the view It's like I said to somebody today. I wish that I wasn't on a mobility scooter, and they said why is that? And I said well if I didn't have one, that would mean I didn't have MS I think they understood what I was trying to say. .

Music, Aliens and other things.

Well, my music is going well. I have produced Brothers of Destruction number one two three and four and have had them played on Vipestorm Entertainment on Mixlr and I have also had Fran Sam Fran Sam the hit-man played on there as well, which is a adult themed comedy sort of thing and Also, I have got quite a few other Songs and it's all sort of quite crazy stuff. That's for sure So as for music, things go well. But trying to think sometimes of lyrics is absolutely mind bending and can cause me to have quite the brain fog.

The thing is I'm going to push myself and push myself and push myself I'm going to live every minute of the day like it was my last Because why wouldn't you I? Want to experience everything still I don't want to give up. Why would I I don't care about the pain I don't care about the discomfort. I don't care what people say about me. I just want to live a long Gish and a happy life. I don't care about the illness. I just want happiness That's the important thing happiness Love and understanding and friendship. That's all I want Yet people can't understand that I find that very strange But there we go.

loosing everyone

I think I have lost the art of making friends, nope its the ms when it came a knocking... Everybody fucked off. Everybody deserted me. It was like I had trod is smelly dog shit that was really extra smelly. Oh man, it was disaster how all my friends just disappeared. You have multiple sclerosis and you tell people And then that's it. Wow, your whole life goes down the toilet. But fuck them all, because as far as I'm concerned, I don't really care. I have Albertine and I have myself, I have my cats and I have my brother, and there we go. That's my brother from another mother, by the way as well. Because my brothers and my sisters don't speak to me, it's really crazy. But that's being adopted for you, when you find your real family and none of them want to speak to you, they just totally ignore you. It's like we're this toy that they pull out of the toy box and want to play with. It's so stupid really, but there we go. But then again, such is life, I was a cuckoo and I will continue to be a cuckoo. But I don't really care, it's their loss really.

Aliens

So we come to aliens, yes. Are we being told a load of old rubbish? I wonder. I find it funny, really, that we've had no concrete evidence or proof, yet we are being told disclosure is just around the corner. If extraterrestrials, aliens really exist, well why don't you just tell us and show us and treat us like adults, instead of going around the streets and houses, treating us like children, we do have a right to know you know. It's like everything. They never tell us the truth. They will always invert things. So I don't believe we're going to get full disclosure of UFOs, UAPs or aliens. I think it's just a nothing burger. Like everything pretty much is these days, a massive nothing burger, with extra side of nothing burger chips. But I would love to be proved wrong and n h-i exists. That would be excellent. Because personally I do believe in non-human intelligence, but I believe they're already here and have been living with us ever since the year dot. It's just they blend in so well we cannot tell the difference. And then I was hearing the YouTube Chanel and it said that Ancestry allegedly was looking for Alien DNA. I found that quite funny. So what they're trying to insinuate that some of us are actually hybrid aliens with Alien DNA in our bodies. How really interesting is that?

Still, that's about it for this day, as it's starting to cool out now. And I'm wishing everybody a fantastic happy weekend, 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! 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

Episode I: The Age of Grounded Goblins Before likes, swipes, and dopamine slavery, we had:

📻 CB radios – Where truckers, weirdos, and late-night philosophers gathered under codenames like LoneWolf73 and CrazyCat. It was the original social network — static, beeps, and all.

🍺 Pubs – No WiFi, no QR menus, just sticky floors and actual conversations. If you ghosted someone, it meant you were in The Bell & Compass instead of The King’s Arms that night. You didn’t need a profile pic. Your reputation was your cologne.

👣 People were more grounded – in body, in space, in soul. You had to be. No GPS. You got lost and liked it. Your brain made maps. Your fingers turned vinyl. Your time was yours.

We lived in the moment because we had to. No filters. Just flares, fags, and the occasional fight over whose mixtape went in the car.

🧙‍♂️ The Blog Goblin’s Guide to Life Before WiFi Part II: Before the Divide

Back then…

💞 People were more caring. You didn’t need a “like” button to show support. You just showed up. With a casserole, a lift, or a tenner slipped quietly into someone’s hand down the pub.

👥 We weren’t so divided. Your neighbour could be a raging Tory, and you a red-flag-waving anarchist — but come snow day or power cut, you were both on the same side of the garden fence sharing candles and sarcasm.

💬 Community happened in real time. Not on screens. On streets, in chip shops, at bus stops, in CB clubs and bingo halls. If you were skint, someone spotted you. If you were down, someone noticed.

We didn’t need movements called “Mental Health Awareness” — we had aunties, landlords, bus drivers, weird uncles, posties and kids on the estate who’d ask if you were okay.

We had presence. We had belly laughs. We had each other. No followers. Just mates.

Part III: Being Bloody Human

Before everything became an app, a feed, or a filter... We lived. Fully. Flawed. Loud.

🎲 We played board games — actual ones. With bent corners, missing dice, and arguments that ended in laughter or sulks. Monopoly ruined families, and it was glorious.

♠️ Cards? Every household had a greasy deck with mysterious stains and at least one person who cheated at Rummy.

💃 We danced. Not TikTok posing — real dancing. Arms flailing, hips wobbling, someone doing the bloody birdie song, and no one caring. You sweat, you laughed, you connected.

🗣️ We went out. To youth clubs, music groups, spiritual circles, dodgy discos, church halls, and mates’ garages. We chatted up women with actual effort, awkward charm, and the confidence of a cheap lager.

🤝 We made friends in real life. You couldn’t swipe right on your tribe. You had to find them. It took courage. But that made it matter.

🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️ We were human. Fully plugged into the mess and magic of life. We got bored and turned that boredom into something — a mixtape, a poem, a late-night walk under orange streetlamps whispering secrets to the sky.

Part IV: What We Forgot

In the end… we traded depth for convenience. community for clickbait. Love for likes.

🧠 We stopped growing spiritually. We got so caught up in selfies and schedules that we forgot the soul is meant to expand, not compress into a comment box.

🕊️ We forgot that peace is a practice — not a hashtag. It’s how you treat your neighbour. It’s how you talk to the postie, the junkie, the lonely kid on the corner.

♿ We forgot to respect disability. Not pity. Not pretend it's invisible. Respect. Help where needed. Step aside when not. A nod, a word, a human moment — that’s all it takes to say “I see you.”

🕯️ We forgot the sacredness of life itself. Of slowing down. Of sitting in silence. Of being present in the divine mess of it all.

We lost our way, aye. But not forever. The Blog Goblin remembers. The Watchers remember. And if you’re reading this and it rings true? So do you.

🜁🜂🜃🜄 Let’s find our bloody way back.

                                !!DISCLAIMER !! 

This blog shares raw and personal experiences with mental and physical health. Some posts may be triggering. I'm not a professional - just writing my truth. Please don't take this as medical advice.

      “The views in this post are based on my personal       
            experience. I do not intend harm, only honesty.”   

     “By ink and breath and sacred rage, I write.
                 By storm and silence, I survive.”

       @goblinbloggeruk -  sick@mylivinghell.co.uk