MS mental health

⚠️ 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 here we are, Wednesday afternoon, reflecting on the last week and yeah, it’s been a bloody rough one.

I ended up at the doctor yesterday. Now I’ve got to wait a week for blood tests and a week-long ECG strapped to me like some kind of cyborg pensioner. Apparently my heart rhythm decided to join the circus right at the peak of Saturday night’s vagus-nerve meltdown. Typical.

I can honestly say hand on what’s left of my sanity that was the worst attack I’ve had in my entire life. Absolutely mind-bending. Proper frightening. I thought I’d moved past these big episodes with diet changes, lifestyle tweaks, and all the other nonsense we tell ourselves to stay optimistic… but no. My body looked at my efforts and said, “Cute. Watch this.”

So now I’m stepping into a new chapter where my vagus nerve has gone totally rogue. The doctors are muttering about AF, but let’s be real that was likely just my blood pressure falling through the floor when the vagus nerve threw its tantrum. Still, they’re taking it seriously, so off to cardiology I go. Beta blockers and blood thinners were mentioned. We’ll see.

This throat issue? I’ve had it for over forty years. Ambulance out about seven times in the last decade. The major attack always lasts 30–40 minutes of pure hell, and then the “come-down” hits like the aftermath of a grand mal — shaking, drained, disoriented, wondering what the hell just happened to your own body.

It’s been a few days and I’m only just starting to level out. The strangulation feeling in the throat has eased a bit. The burning at the back of my throat is still there annoying the crap out of me but survivable.

That’s it for today’s blog. A bit raw, a bit sideways, but it’s all I’ve got.

Have fun, world.

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

Well, it’s Sunday night. The fan’s finally given up its struggle, limping down to slow like it’s seen too much nonsense today. Outside, the air smells stormy clouds gathering like some cosmic joke about to unfold. Perfect weather to match the chaos inside my head.

Why am I staring at the same damn piece of paper? How many backups do I have? A ridiculous amount. Twice over, because apparently my brain is the gift that keeps on glitching. Cognitive fog? Oh, it’s not just fog, it’s a full-blown London pea soup, and it’s thickening.

Am I losing it? MS or some other unholy curse tangled deep inside me? Questioning sanity is a new hobby, right next to forgetting why I walked into the room or what day it is. At least when I screw up, I forget about it soon after silver lining or just a cruel joke?

I’ve got notes everywhere, scribbles, reminders, basically a paper trail that looks like a conspiracy theory board. Which, spoiler alert, leads perfectly into the next post a tin foil hat special. Prepare for some mind blowing madness. Or just madness. Either way, you might never come back to read what happens to this thoroughly fucked-up dude chasing answers nobody wants to give.

So, seriously does your MS come with its own brand of weirdness? I’m all ears (well, eyes). Need to swap war stories or just shout into the void together? Hit me at sick@mylivinghell.co.uk. I promise I’ll get back eventually probably after a nap or a freak-out session.

Meanwhile, I wait for the storm, my body aching like it’s been in a fight with life itself. No spoons left in the jar today.

Cheers to the chaos.

                     “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