InvisibleIllness

Top Ten Alternative Medicines: Because Desperation is Expensive Let’s face it. When mainstream medicine gives you nothing but side effects, gaslighting, and a mild death wish, you inevitably end up here: the world of alternative medicine. Welcome to the land where hope meets your bank balance, and your sanity politely exits stage left.

Here’s my brutally honest ranking.

1. Acupuncture 💉 Claim: Sticking needles in you realigns your life force. 💀 Reality: You’re paying someone to stab you repeatedly. Might help pain a bit. Might just remind you you’re alive, which is arguably worse.

2. CBD / Cannabis 🌿 Claim: Cures everything from pain to your failed marriage. 💀 Reality: Can ease pain, spasticity, and anxiety. Also makes you realise how soul-crushing your life is with exceptional clarity. Worth it.

3. Reiki 👐 Claim: Someone waves their hands near you to shift energy fields. 💀 Reality: Basically spiritual WiFi with zero scientific backing. Still, lying still for an hour while someone hovers over you is strangely calming.

4. Herbal Teas & Tinctures 🍵 Claim: Plants heal. 💀 Reality: Some herbs genuinely help mild symptoms. Others taste like compost water, make your bowels explode, and cost more than your rent.

5. Homeopathy 💧 Claim: Dilute poison to cure poison. 💀 Reality: Sugar pills with memory water. Useful only if your illness is a placebo in the first place.

6. Crystal Healing 💎 Claim: Rocks vibrate healing energies. 💀 Reality: They look pretty on your shelf while your body continues its daily betrayal.

7. Aromatherapy 🌸 Claim: Oils fix everything. 💀 Reality: Lavender might calm you. Peppermint might help your headache. But no oil will fix your soul-crushing fatigue. Sorry, Karen.

8. Reflexology 🦶 Claim: Pressing your feet heals your organs. 💀 Reality: Great foot massage. Everything else is foot-based fan fiction.

9. Ayurvedic Medicine 🪷 Claim: Ancient Indian herbal wisdom balances your doshas. 💀 Reality: Some legit herbal remedies. Some unregulated heavy metal pills. Roll the dice and hope you don’t get arsenic with your ashwagandha.

10. Hypnotherapy 🌀 Claim: Reprogram your subconscious to fix illness, pain, trauma. 💀 Reality: Helpful for stress or trauma-based conditions. For MS nerve damage? Might as well hypnotise yourself into believing you’re a golden retriever for emotional support.

Final Thoughts Will any of these cure your incurable chronic illness? No.

Will they make life slightly more bearable? Some might.

Will your bank balance survive this spiritual capitalism? Absolutely not.

         “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 ✨🧌

Brain Fog: Because MS Couldn't Just Steal Your Mobility – It Had to Nick Your IQ Points Too Welcome to the delightful world of multiple sclerosis, where the fun truly never ends. Just when you thought MS was done robbing you of your mobility, it decides to take a little detour into your brain.

Yes, folks, say hello to brain fog – that unwelcome guest who crashes your cognitive party, eats all the snacks, and leaves you wondering where you left your keys… or your sanity.

What is Brain Fog? Ah, brain fog. That lovely haze making you feel like you’re wading through treacle while trying to solve a Rubik's Cube. It’s like your brain decided to take a vacation without telling you.

✅ Forgetfulness? Check. ✅ Trouble concentrating? Double check. ✅ Feeling like an extra in your own life? Triple bloody check.

It’s as if MS has a side gig as a cognitive thief – and it’s doing a bang-up job.

The Joys of Cognitive Dysfunction Let’s not sugarcoat it. Brain fog is a real treat.

You might find yourself:

Staring blankly at a wall, contemplating the meaning of life

Forgetting what day it is (spoiler: it doesn’t matter anyway)

Walking into a room only to forget why you’re there – repeatedly

And no, it’s not because you’re deep in philosophical thought. It’s because your brain is on a permanent coffee break.

Coping with the Chaos So, how do you deal with this delightful cognitive haze?

💀 Option 1: Caffeine – to keep your soul twitching 💀 Option 2: Naps – to escape your own thoughts temporarily 💀 Option 3: A healthy dose of sarcasm – because crying is overrated

Or, embrace the chaos entirely. Start a support group for fellow fog dwellers. Just remember: the first rule of Brain Fog Club is… you probably won’t remember it anyway.

Conclusion In the grand scheme of MS torture, brain fog is just another charming quirk. So raise a glass (or a mug of coffee) to the cognitive chaos and remember:

You’re not alone in this foggy mess – even if you forget that every five minutes.

      “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 ✨🧌

🖤 “ coming Soon: A brutally honest ranking of the top ten alternative medicines.

What’s worth it, what’s useless, and what might just make life with chronic illness slightly less unbearable.”(Straight but brand-consistent) “Soon: A brutally honest ranking of the top ten alternative medicines. What’s worth it, what’s useless, and what might just make life with chronic illness slightly less unbearable.”(Straight but brand-consistent) “Soon: A brutally honest ranking of the top ten alternative medicines. What’s worth it, what’s useless, and what might just make life with chronic illness slightly less unbearable.”

So, you’ve got MS. Congrats on your new life sentence. Welcome to the club nobody wants to join, where your immune system treats your nerves like a chew toy and daily tasks become extreme sports. If you’re wondering how to cope with the relentless mental and physical torture that is Multiple Sclerosis, here’s your brutally honest, darkly comedic guide.

1. Eat Like You Actually Care (Even Though You Don’t) Sure, nutrition might help reduce fatigue, inflammation, and general bodily betrayal. Will quinoa and kale cure your MS? Absolutely not. But it’ll help you feel morally superior while your nervous system crumbles.

2. Exercise Without Dying Yes, exercise is important. But if you’re one squat away from sh*tting yourself or collapsing like a Victorian woman denied her fainting couch, maybe start with gentle stretching or a walk to the fridge. Small wins.

3. Train Your Brain (Before It Leaves You) MS can fog your mind faster than three bottles of wine. Crosswords, sudoku, brain training apps – all designed to slow the brain-melt. Bonus: if you forget to do them, that’s probably why you need them in the first place.

4. Sleep: Because Insomnia Isn’t Edgy MS fatigue is like dragging a corpse around all day. Insomnia makes it worse. Try regular sleep times, a dark cave-like room, and cooling your room so your inner demon feels at home.

5. Stress – Your Favourite Symptom Trigger Stress is the invisible gremlin that pokes your MS into full meltdown. Meditate, do yoga, or scream silently into your pillow. Whatever keeps you from becoming an actual murderer today.

6. Vitamin D & Smoking Low vitamin D makes MS worse. Smoking makes MS worse. The universe is basically telling you to quit cigs and take a supplement. Or keep smoking and accept your fate – dark choices only you can make.

7. Heat: Your Mortal Enemy Heat turns your already dysfunctional nerves into cooked spaghetti. Stay cool. Cold drinks, fans, icy glares at strangers – all recommended.

8. Depression & Anxiety: The Cherry on Top MS is a daily trauma loop, so depression and anxiety are loyal companions. Therapy, meds, and dark humour memes help. Talking to people might too, if you can be arsed.

9. Alternative Therapies Massage, acupuncture, cannabis oil – none will resurrect your dead nerves, but they might make the pain less unrelenting. Go wild. Or don’t. It’s your hell.

Final Pep Talk MS won’t kill your dark sense of humour, unless you let it. Implement these daily management tips and maybe – just maybe – tomorrow will suck slightly less.

       “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 ✨🧌

So, you’re thinking about medical cannabis? Congratulations on reaching that inevitable point where life hurts so much you’re ready to pay £200+ a month to not want to punch everyone in Tesco. Welcome to the club.

Here’s everything you need to know about getting a prescription for medical cannabis in the UK – because apparently, the NHS thinks your suffering is adorable, but not quite “let’s fix it” adorable.

1. Is it even legal? Yes. Medical cannabis has been legal in the UK since 2018, but don’t get too excited – it’s not like they’re handing out joints at your local GP. Only specialist doctors prescribe it, and mostly through private clinics. Around 20,000 people have prescriptions. Think of it as an exclusive club for the perpetually pained.

2. What can it treat? Mostly chronic pain, but also PTSD, anxiety, OCD, autism spectrum disorder, ADHD, and the general misery of existence (unofficially).

3. Am I eligible? If you’ve tried at least two medications that didn’t work, and you’re not actively hallucinating demonic squirrels daily, you’re probably eligible. A specialist will decide. GP referral is nice but not required. Just another British system that rewards stubborn self-navigation.

4. How much does it cost to feel slightly less sh*t? Consultations: £49 – £200 depending on clinic greed.

Prescriptions: £200 – £300/month for flower (oil costs more).

Total: Think of it as your new rent payment for your brain.

Some clinics have access schemes like Project Twenty21 to reduce costs if you’re happy being studied like a stoned lab rat.

5. The 5-step process to blissful legality Step One: Choose a clinic About 20 private clinics exist. Some focus on chronic pain, others on mental health. Shop around like you’re choosing a funeral director – carefully and with low expectations.

Step Two: Eligibility assessment They’ll ask for your medical history via a form or short virtual call. Most get approved unless there’s a serious safety concern (or you call them a c*nt mid-call).

You’ll need your Summary of Care records from your GP. Prepare for the NHS receptionist to act like you’ve requested the nuclear codes.

Step Three: Initial consultation Here you tell them:

What’s wrong with you (everything)

What you’ve tried (everything)

If you’ve used cannabis before (it’s fine, they don’t care)

What you expect from it (relief, obviously)

They’ll probably start you on oil, because flower = scary government panic.

Step Four: Choosing a pharmacy Clinics usually have a pharmacy they use, but you can take your prescription anywhere that dispenses medical cannabis. Your weed gets couriered to your door within 48 hours of payment, unless the UK postal gods decide otherwise.

Step Five: Follow-up consultation One prescription per month = one follow-up per month. Adjust dose, repeat the ritual, pray for relief, try not to commit murder in the meantime.

6. Final thoughts If it works, great. If not, at least you tried. Medical cannabis isn’t a miracle cure, but for many it means life becomes slightly less of a living hell. And isn’t that all we’re really aiming for?

Give it at least three months to figure out your dose before declaring it pointless – because sadly, your endocannabinoid system didn’t come with an instruction manual.

⚠️ Disclaimer: This is not medical advice, just my darkly honest take. Consult your doctor or your dealer’s dealer’s dealer before making changes to your meds.

     “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 ✨

So here we are, diving headfirst into the weirdness that is my life — or what’s left of it after being slowly, methodically gnawed apart by progressive multiple sclerosis. Charming, right?

I knew things weren’t quite right from the start. I wasn’t imagining it, pretending, or trying to skip PE. I was nine years old with legs like jelly and nerves that fired like broken Christmas lights. I knew something was off. My body wasn’t working properly. It never has. And it’s been downhill ever since — no brakes, no map, no helpful roadside breakdown service.

Spoiler alert: I have MS. Progressive MS. The slow-burn, never-look-back, “enjoy the ride, it only gets worse” variety. And I’ve been fighting it for over 50 years — most of that in silence. Unheard. Unseen. Ignored. Dismissed. “Attention-seeking.” “Hysterical.” You know the drill.

Back then, there was no MRI magic or lumbar puncture fun day out. No one believed me. No one wanted to. The doctors — ah, bless them — thought I was putting it on. For the drama, I suppose. Because pretending to lose control of your limbs is all the rage when you're a kid trying to survive school.

Forty years. That’s how long it took them to finally notice. Forty. Can you even fathom that? I had all the textbook symptoms, but apparently, I was just making a lifestyle choice — you know, becoming progressively disabled for the vibes.

Eventually, they finally dragged me into hospital for all the fancy tests that proved, lo and behold: I wasn’t a liar, I wasn’t mad — I was just slowly falling apart from something called MS. Ta-dah. Gold star. Thanks for coming.

And honestly? It was a relief. Not the diagnosis — that sucked. But the proof. The closure. The validation. After decades of being told it was in my head, turns out it was in my spinal cord all along. Go figure.

But here’s the twist — I didn’t just survive that hell. Somewhere along the line, I changed. Call it spiritual, call it delusional, I don’t really care — I had what you might call a cosmic chat with the universe. Serapis Bey (look him up if you like mystics with style) paid me a visit, and something clicked. I shifted. I transformed. Something deep happened.

I’m not the person I used to be. Not even close. And people who knew me before can’t believe the person standing before them now. It’s like I underwent a total soul renovation with added glitter and spiritual scaffolding.

This world isn’t built for people like me — the weird, the ill, the eccentric, the inconvenient. If you’re different, you get ignored. Gaslit. Written off. But I’m still here. And I’ve got a voice, even if some days I barely have the strength to lift a cup of tea.

So here’s my truth: I’m strange. I’m spiritual. I’m sarcastic. I’m raging at the system but laughing through the pain. I have MS — but I’m still me.

To the others out there, like me — the unheard, the “difficult cases,” the ones who’ve been shoved into the corner because they didn’t tick the easy boxes: you’re not alone.

Don’t let this world break you. Let it sharpen you.

Rebuild. Reclaim. Be weird. Be you.

And if you’re ever in the dark, just remember — some of us are out here, lighting the way with rage, humour, and a whole lot of “f*** you” to the system that failed us.

🧠💥 40 Years Misdiagnosed. Still Here. Still Loud. They told me it was in my head. It was — just also in my spine, my nerves, and every inch of my being. This is the story of living with undiagnosed progressive MS for over 40 years. Ignored. Dismissed. Unheard. And yet — I never gave up. I changed. Spiritually, physically, mentally. I became something else. This one’s for the misfits, the chronically ill, the eccentric warriors who’ve been told to sit down and shut up. We’re not going anywhere.

🕊️ Who is Serapis Bey? Serapis Bey is known as an Ascended Master — a spiritual teacher who once walked the Earth and has since transcended to guide others on their soul’s evolution. Often associated with the energy of discipline, transformation, and spiritual rebirth, he’s considered the keeper of the White Ray of Ascension.

In short? He’s the no-nonsense cosmic coach who shows up when your life’s gone full chaos and it’s time to rise from the ashes — stronger, clearer, and more you than ever.

He helps guide those going through massive life shifts, especially when it feels like you're being spiritually remade from the inside out. Think: divine tough love with soul-level purpose.

sick@mylivinghell.co.uk

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

Well, it appears the universe has decided I need a front-row seat to the carnival of my own mind. Strange happenings, indeed. I’m left wondering whether I’m teetering on the edge of madness or just auditioning for the part of “eccentric hermit” in some cosmic sitcom. No, I’m not on any of those delightful MS meds, thank you very much. My body seems to view anything remotely pharmaceutical as a personal insult, so I let it run the show. The last time I had the pleasure of a “medication experiment,” it almost landed me an eight-day vacation in the hospital. And, as you can imagine, that wasn’t exactly on my bucket list. Anyway, back to the matter at hand—or perhaps I should say, misfiring nerves at hand. Am I seeing real things or just tripping on my own imagination? Who can say. My brain’s decided it’s time for a foggy intermission, complete with the usual “left-side-of-my-body hates me” encore. Lovely. The cherry on top? My tongue’s throwing a tantrum again with those oh-so-charming spasms, my gut nerves are having a rave, and the tinnitus is cranked up to eleven—like a personal heavy metal concert in my skull. So yes, everything’s perfectly normal around here.

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