Practice makes…

•August 10, 2017 • Leave a Comment

…perfect 👌?

“They” do say that, every once in a while and sometimes several times a day. But does it really make things perfect, or will you merely be getting better to a certain extent? As what can be perfect for me, can be too much, or too little, for someone else. It’s all in the eye of the beholder, “they” say.

Well, I practice a lot lately. You guessed it, the hand and thumb 👍 coordination and all. Making my fingers move again, making my thumb my own again.

And I can assure you that it still frakking hurts. I still need some extra painkillers to be able to sleep. The muscles in my arm, wrist and hand are so incredibly sore, they hurt me most. Well, that and bending my thumb downwards. I shared a gif file in a previous post and I made a new one just now. I almost drop the phone in the beginning, but can’t redo it cause it hurts too much now. So hope you can forgive the clumsiness.

Gif file of my hand practice, August 10th.

I knew it would be sensitive for a long time. I knew there would be pain. But I was not prepared for this, to be honest. It’s more inconvenient and painful than I had imagined (or maybe also hoped). And the thumb is less useful (now) than I thought it would be.

“Luckily” I’m not a stranger to pain, so I kinda know how to deal with it. But my own physical therapist is enjoying his holiday, so I am missing his sessions a lot! The hand therapist I have, I don’t feel very comfortable with. Might be me, as I have great difficulty connecting with people. But today I’ll ask for another Saturday session so my wife can join and see if it’s me or her… And if it’s not me, I’ll move my hand away from the so called specialist and run towards my own therapist. As I have more faith in him than in her at this moment.

Practice makes perfect. It has also worn me out. So now, I will try to sleep.

Thanks for reading! Have an awesome day and practice what ever you wish to achieve 😄


Giving up

•August 6, 2017 • 2 Comments

Sometimes, in order to not give up, you have to give it up…

R2-D2 falling over

It might sound strange, but for me, it’s true. I can really dive into things in ways no NT person I know can do… I have had some hobbies that I enjoyed. They gave me pleasure, energy and even some strength. But…

I had to give some of them up. Maybe some temporarily, at least I hope so… And some I’ll never be able to do again.

I could try to hold on to the latter. But that would only remind me of so called better days. And that won’t make me feel happy. Nope, not at all and on bad days, it could even feed my dark monster, that ever following shade, the dark passenger.

I have cried over giving some of those things up. And yeah, when I see others going at it, it can make me feel jealous.

But I have to let it go. It won’t do me any good to keep holding on to things that were. I need to focus on things I still can do and perhaps even expand them with new things.

So for me, in order to proceed with life, for not feeding the monster, I need to give some things up. By giving them up, I can continue going forward.

That’s my own made quote, not sure if it already exists. But it’s what I kept thinking about, for some reason, and had to share with you all.

Sometimes, in order to not give up, you have to give it up.

Never give up, never surrender

Pain and anger

•August 4, 2017 • 4 Comments

I know anger won’t solve (m)any problems. But when the problems grow too big for me to handle, I do get angry. And most of them have a relationship with pain.

Ever since I slipped and fell in the shower in October last year, my left thumb had been hurting. So much, that I went to the GP. They didn’t trust it, so onwards to the emergency department of the hospital I went for x-rays. They assured me nothing was broken and physical therapy should be the key to resolving my pain. My therapist tried several things, most hurt like hell. I got a brace which isn’t comfortable and doesn’t help me all of the time. As the pain did not leave me, dispite the efforts of the therapist and the support of the brace, my wife called the GP again (after 6 months of lots of pain). I finally got a referral to an orthopedic doctor at the hospital. But, another 4/5 weeks of waiting until the appointment.

I tried what I could in the meantime, but I only felt I could do less and less… So when finally the appointment came, I was very curious to what was causing the pain and discomfort. He checked the old x-rays and saw a dislocation of my thumb… Yes, on the OLD x-ray… So it was there to see 7 months prior… He sent me to make new x-rays to compare them with the old ones. And it showed him that there was onset arthrosis. That was the main cause of the growing discomfort, even with the brace, the taping and exercises my therapist did… And then came the word I had been fearing: surgery.

Of course I wanted the pain to leave, the discomfort to end and my thumb to be usable again. So well, yeah, OK, plan me in for that surgery.

It would take another five weeks until the date of surgery. The pre-op talks I (well, we, as my wife supported me) had a week previous to the surgery were weird. My questions seemed unwanted and their response was not very open. When I told about my intolerance to paracetamol (a sort of painkiller, this is the name it has in the Netherlands) the woman told me without even blinking an eye that my reaction to the medicine was a normal one… Well, in all my years of living with the intolerance (even when it’s an added bit to another painkiller, I get those reactions), no one ever told me that migraine like headaches and throwing up loads were normal reactions towards paracetamol. Nor could Google tell me that, as it seemed that even the largest search engine could not find anything that proved that woman right. On the contrary, paracetamol was often the medicine to use against headaches (as I already was aware of)… So when the surgery date neared, I had mixed feelings. But I wanted the pain to end, I wanted most of the functionality of my thumb back.

As the hospital provided me with no information on paper whatsoever, I again had turned to Google. There I found information on the surgery and the recovery afterwards. Several sites mentioned a recovery time of 4-6 months, several others mentioned 6-9 months. So, pessimistic as I can be, have my mind set on a good recovery in nine months time… OK, I’ll be more optimistic and say 4 to 9 months then.

The day came and my wife brought me to the hospital. I had my night bag with me, just in case… The pre-op was very, very painful. The way they shoot your arm full of the numbing drug, that hurts! My wife was not allowed to be there when they did that, but had I known before, I would have begged for her to be allowed during that… It hurt so much, it made me a bit scared for the surgery itself. But I tried to be a happy camper and did the best I could. When my arm finally went numb… I had to pee… I went before I got my bed, around 8:50 and it was now around 11:20. They tried a bed pan thing, but I already told them I couldn’t use it due to my pelvis after all those triple osteotomy surgeries. But they had to try so I endured the pain and they saw it indeed did not work. They got me a pee stool thingie and with help, I got on and it felt like a huge relief. Half an hour later, they send me to the OR.

I got a sleeping help thingie so I’d be out during the cutting and all. When I started to come around, they were just about to sow me up. Then some plaster around it to make a heavy cast. When all was done, I had to get on my bed again and they wheeled me to the recovery room. It didn’t take me long to be well enough to get back to the room. So the nurse called for me to be picked up. And I waited… In the meantime, a man got wheeled I the area next to me and damn, he was giving me a headache. It was an asylum seeker who spoke absolutely no Dutch nor English and kept yelling stuff… Staff could not get any decent answers and even joked abiut sedating him some more cause of the noise he was making… I then asked a nurse if a, she knew when I would be picked up and b, if there was no translator around… Seeing that he should have consented with the surgery, so someone should have translated it… She quickly called again for me and then indeed if there was a relative or support for that man. He was so incredibly loud…

After about 30 minutes after the first call, and 20 minutes with that loud dude, I finally got picked up. That nurse asked me if I wanted some food, yes please, and I asked if she could call the wife to come pick me up. She acknowledged it and went off. Came back with food, so I ate while waiting. When she came again to pick up the plate (about 20 minutes later) I asked if she got hold of my wife. She hadn’t even called yet… Sigh…

When I finally got picked up by the wife, I could get into my own clothes. Then pick up the painkillers and head home. I felt OK, a bit sleepy, but the meds were still working. My left arm was so not mine, I tried to put on another shirt at home, and I hit my own head with the heavy cast. I thought I was holding my arm up…

The next few weeks were hard. Surgery was in Thursday, on Saturday (after my wife made several calls to hospitals), we spent over 4 hours in the ER to get me a new cast. My hand was so swollen, I thought it would burst. And I held my hand high, cooled it, tried to move my fingers, I did everything I needed to do and still my had became a balloon. But it took them four hours to cut the cast and give me a new one. When the first one was cut open, I felt like I was gonna faint. The room started to spin, I started to sweat, I immediately said I didn’t feel well. Wife remarked that I was as pale as a white sheet. So within a minute, I was on the bed instead of next to it. So much pain, holding on, being strong… I was so happy, because within an hour I already felt and saw a difference in my hand. I was angry that I had to wait for 4 hours while I said I was in a lot of pain and it was clearly visible. That next week became, like I predicted, the hottest one we had so far this year (I was joking beforehand to my wife that it would be my luck to be in a cast during the warmest week of the year…). The people who gave me the new cast weren’t the best… I already noticed at the ER, but the bandage that they wrapped around the plaster was getting loose quickly. And when my arm started to lose some fluids as well, it felt like my stitches were stuck in the cast. It hurt every time the cast moved a bit and I can tell you, that happens a lot! So when I could get the new cast, a plastic one, no more plaster, I was very happy. Getting the stitches out of my arm was another painful adventure. And then I got the new cast, whoop it was bright yellow and lighter and I loved it. Well, as much as you can love a cast I guess. It after a few days, my wrist kept hurting more than it had done before. I felt a pressure around the wound and it drove me insane. So wife called hospital again and we could come back that same week. And indeed, there were deep pressure points around the wound and someone with sensitive skin like me, that hurts. Soooooo another cast and this one stayed until the end…

Lots of sleepless nights, lots of pain and even oxycodone to help me through the night. I even took zoplicon to help me sleep as I was driving myself insane. I could not function and I thought removing the cast would make it all better. Especially since we were about 5 weeks since surgery day and with all that rest I had in that cast… By the way, the hand looked so awful when the cast came off, wow… Dreadful. So when I got home, I started treating my hand. Slowly peeling off old skin and then using moisturizing stuffs to get the skin more soft and flexible. But the hand, it felt like it wasn’t mine. And the thumb itself… Still feels like it isn’t mine, even now, 7 weeks later. Probably some nerves have been damaged, which makes physical thumb therapy even more painful. When I (or my wife/therapist) do the bending practice, I feel like they (or even I when I do it myself) are trying to break my thumb.

I keep doing my exercises, keep trying to use the hand as much as I can. The thumb is still a bit swollen, so movement might be good for the fluid drainage.

When the pain gets too bad, I get angry again. Angry because if the people at the hospital who looked at the xray last year October had looked closely, they would have seen the dislocated thumb and referred me to take the right actions. And not just send me home, get some therapy and keep using it. Because all that usage is what caused the arthrosis, which got me into this surgery in June… It could most likely all have been prevented and saved me so much pain (and probably money as well, haven’t gotten the bill yet). When I saw the xray, even I could clearly see the dislocation, without knowing about it, with an untrained eye. They must have seen it and just said “it’s not broken, keep using it as much as you can and get some therapy”. That indeed makes me angry.

I am also, at times, angry with myself. If I had been more careful, I might not have slipped… Also angry that I need so much more help with things I could normally do myself. I already have given up so many things, both fun and also necessary ones like jobs around the house. I really hoped I could start doing them once the cast was removed. As I have gotten no information from the hospital (another thing I’m still angry about), I thought I would need therapy to regain strength in my hand. Not that my thumb would barely be able to move and when it does, it makes me wanna cry.

I know for sure that both hospitals with that name, been to the other location for my hip back in 2006, will never have me as a patient again. Hip surgery had many issues and mistakes and now again… Like waiting 4 hours for a cast… When my wife called they first wanted to give me more painkillers. My hand was like a balloon. All websites say that when that happens and the high holding/cooling and all doesn’t help, you need to get to the ER asap… So much frustration, so many mistakes.

So, I’m now gonna try to add some images to this post and the finally post it. It took me several hours to type… But at least I got it all out.

If you made it all to the end, thanks for reading, thank you very much. Comments, questions, kind words… All are welcome in the comments area. Have an awesome day and thanks for caring enough to read all my babbling.


•July 31, 2017 • 4 Comments

Why is there so much pressure on the whole “being social” stuff?

I mean, I get it that people can get lonely, that people even can get depressed due to lack of social interaction but… Surprise! I’m not one of those people. And ever since I got into my sick leave, it’s a huge thing they seem to focus upon, never hearing me and my feelings towards it.

Every time those experts write that I would love to become more active because more social interaction is good for me. But… That’s not what I said, ever…

My wish was (and is) to be able to find a spot, free of stress, where they accept me as I am and are happy with my help. We were and are working towards such a place, but the hand surgery and recovery put it on hold for now.

I do not miss the social interaction all those experts refer to as, most of the time, they were exhausting me. Besides the work (last job I had was very high pressure stress and loads of walking/physical activity) I barely had energy left. To socialize was fun at times because the stress and pressure of the job was slowly taking its toll. Because my last job was at a warehouse with a (dated) picking system, there was loads of noise. I didn’t have my special made earplugs yet, so it took some effort to keep focused on the job. Especially since it was a dull one, loads of walking, picking items, no real thinking needed (though some colleagues behaved like you needed to be a rocket scientist to get the job done and to understand the system).

In the end, as I have mentioned before, I only lived to work. I was a wreck at home, so much pain and discomfort… So then my newly wed wife told me I needed to call in sick, that this was not how life is as supposed to be.

And I got called in sick and could stay at home. And I found out, being home alone wasn’t the worst thing in the world (except for those horrible neighbors!). I could plan chores. I could take a walk when I felt like it, or when my back/legs needed it. I could sleep when my body and mind needed the rest. Watch a movie or series, read a book or play a game…

Before people start fantasizing about the above, keep in mind of the struggles and pain that went with it (and still go with it). I had to give up on things I loved to do, had to reduce time spend on others. Some nights, I never got any sleep, sometimes even day after day. So all the positivity that I mentioned above have to be seen in ratio.

As I have written about before, I got my ASS/ADHD diagnoses back in, I believe, October 2012. I already had been diagnosed with depression/bi-polar (and then another form of depression and then the polar one again…) before that. And when the Fibromyalgia joined in, it got too much to handle. I’ve been a hip patient since 1997, so I’m “accustomed” to pain, inconvenience and recovery. I know my mental health will not become any better by taking pills. I have tried to educate myself on all the “labels” I’ve gathered throughout the last few years. It’s a way to better understand myself and also to be able to express my feelings and thoughts betters.

But during the time spend away from that hectic work life, I noticed my energy level was slowly rising. No big steps, no super improvement, but still… The time I spend alone helped me to deal better when interacting with others. At calm times, I could go out and get some groceries my myself without being exhausted afterwards. Buying myself noise canceling music ear plugs also helped.

I knew already that I don’t have a filter, not an incoming nor an outgoing one. I have difficulty finding the most important bits in a sea of information that’s flowing through me. I notice so much more than others do. And, annoying as can be, I often need to tell about everything that I have seen that may have bothered me or left me curious/wondering. I have talked about this with my wife and she did mention it being annoying at times. She wondered why I just could not let it pass by…

That made me think about it a lot. Why did I do this, and do I still do it? Could I ignore things and would that make them go away? But no, she I tried to ignore things, my focus “just” shifted to another thing. When I didn’t mention things I had seen, they kept me occupied, I had to talk about it, or just even mention it, to make it easier to process. But it did show to her, how much information I progress. And then the brain scan done in summer 2012 made more sense. As some of you may recall, when I almost fell asleep during the test, my brain wave action dropped to 150% of “average”… That’s why my brain needs to be so fast, because it needs to process all these stimulus that came and comes through it.

Back to the social stuff. Yeah I know being social is important. But not having a steady job, or being home more than average, means you aren’t socially active. We live in a day and age where I can interact better than before, through the internet. I can write this whole blog, no one can intervene when I am writing, and after I post it, I open it up to others so it can be discussed. And it can help the people I know IRL to maybe understand the way my world rocks.

I always used to say that I was using a different operating system. It’s not bad, it’s not wrong, it’s just lesser know and works differently from the better known systems. But now, I also think I have a SSD (solid state drive) where others still have a 5400rpm hard drive. It can work together but will take its time.

But, after all I just wrote and thought through, I still don’t know why the so called experts can’t see that social interaction means a totally different thing for me than it does to NT’s (neurotypical people). It might do me good, especially with people I know and that career about me, but with others, it drains my energy. Even friends can be difficult to be around at times…

I have tried to explain this, it’s even in one of my working experience papers. But every time a so called expert drafts up a paper on me, they always feel a need to mention that I am really wanting to work because it’s good for me and I miss socializing… Euh… Thanks for listening, I guess…

Am I the only one with experience like this? Who often prefers Netflix or a book over having to socialize?

Mind is wandering

•July 24, 2017 • Leave a Comment

Sometimes people say to me I should be out more. Being alone will isolate me. But for me, it’s important to be alone at times as then I get a breathing space and time to recharge.

As I can’t filter all incoming waves of information, sounds, smells, vibration and even touch. And at times, it’s people that cost me loads of energy, trying to keep up, to understand, to follow…

And there are times when I miss some people. It’s hard for me to make friends, to trust people, to have faith in them.

On days where I feel down, drowning in pain and sorrow, haunted by memories that will always be a part of me, I wish someone would notice. A friend would send a text, just to say they were thinking of me. I do post some stuff on Facebook, but the replies I get are often not that much. When I see friends reacting to stuff my wife posts compared to my posts…

My dark passenger is telling me I’m not worth their time. That I am not worth their attention. That I really don’t have friends, but they are merely some people that I happen to know. The dark passenger knows no kindness, wears no satin gloves and goes out of it’s way to make me believe it all.

I know I can push people away when I feel overwhelmed or when I start feeling depressed. I know I can try too hard to keep people around, most often when I’m close to breaking down. I don’t want to be alone at the time when the dark passenger is stalking me. I feel more safe, protected, when I can be surrounded by people that I trust.

But I’ve noticed that lately, I have been feeling more isolated. I try to reach out, but the people I am trying to reach are too far away. They might hear me and choose not to react, my dark passenger whispers in my ear. And they might not hear me at all..

I know I choose to be alone when needed. I know I can push people away when I feel my mood may harm them. But the isolation I am feeling now is not by choice, not mine at least. I know I’ve not been the mose cheerful person lately, but the pain of the surgery is too much to handle at times, even now, more than five weeka after.

Why I am writing this, no idea to be honest. I started this at Facebook, but realized that wasn’t the right platform for this. I guess it’s just haunting me, keeping my thoughts occupied. Ah well, now it’s out, in a way, and maybe it will make sense to someone out there.

Let’s go out with the dogs and then head to bed. Another dreadful day is on it’s way…

Feed the monster

•March 3, 2017 • Leave a Comment

When I look in the mirror, I often wonder what I see, who I see. The answer is really depending on my mood. When I’m having a rare good day, I see someone who has lots to be grateful for. But on days like the one I had yesterday, I see failure and pain. I see disappointment and tired dark eyes that look straight through me. 

On days when everything seems to go wrong from the moment you wake up, most of the time long before your alarm was set… Those days my dark monster is looking around every corner there is, lurking for a chance to attack me when I’m most vulnerable. And those days, I often barely have any energy. The monster knows this as well, and it makes him aware of my weaker shield. 

I know I always carry the monster with me. I have had this “dark passenger” (was watching Dexter, found this a suitable for the monster) for over 20 years now. Many people have looked at it, some more educated than others. And they never really could give the passenger, the dark monster, a name. Well, they could, but there were many variations instead of an unanimous answer. Some told me I had/was bi-polar. That was my first diagnosis. I got lithium and ended up almost killing myself… I read a lot about it and many things did fit, although some I experienced a little less heavy/different. But many treats I really could see in my, my moods and my behavior. Then I had some sort of depression, the next thought bi-polar again… Then I got several other diagnoses, first the ASS/ADHD, 2,5 years later my Fibromyalgia. And now they call it a mix-up of those three. Yeah it’s some form of depression, but not the bi-polar one. But they state that on me having the fibro as well, and I did not have it (maybe I had but it wasn’t as present as it is the last 2,5 years)… So me getting another illness, one being chronic and not really recognized, should make my depressions lighter in some way… I have not been able to believe that, as the way these educated people want me to believe, it’s different than to what I really experience. I have no idea if this makes any sense… 

I have been feeling down a lot lately. Stuff going wrong. Things I was hoping for that got blown off, so major disappointments. Health throwing me more pain and headaches, causing me to sleep less or wake up as tired as I was when I went to bed. It eats me up, slowly, one bite at a time. I get irritated more easily, I feel sad a lot of the time and I try to hide it. If people ask you how you are, and you say “life sucks”, just watch their face. Even me, someone with ASS, can see they are lost, not expecting it and even already looking for a way out. If you say “ah you know, could complain at times, but there are good times as well”, they are a lot happier with that answer. Even though it’s not the truth. And after that reaction a few times, who would not try to hide the truth, even if not to feel so uncomfortable… Because yeah, life sucks at times and when I want to be honest about it, it makes people uncomfortable. Which results in me closing up more, feeling more alone, not able to be honest about my feelings, about my issues, about the struggles. 

The monster knows this, feeds on this, relies on this. I am scared my monster will affect other people. So in a way, when I should need someone to talk to, I will push people away. To keep them safe from my darkness, to keep my monster at bay. To not let them see the real me at that time. When the monster takes over, it seems my ability to think things over is reduced to a “frak it all” kind of thinking. When I am able to take over again, when there is a way yo push the monster into the shadows, I get overwhelmed with a feeling of remorse. Because I do remember all I’ve done, even if I wasn’t in control. 

When the monster pulls me into the darkness, I lose a lot of self control. I do the things I do, but there is no good thought, no angel on my shoulder asking me if I really should be doing certain things. There is no inner judgement at that time. Only a feeling of rage, fear, dislike. Everything and everyone is against me, they’re all out to hurt me and I need to find a way to keep myself safe. 

Why am I sharing all this? It might be a cliché, it might look like what everyone else is writing about depression. Maybe it is, maybe the things that are alike are the recognition points of being depressed. But if you’re lucky enough to have never shared time with the monster, it might be hard to recognize. And if someone in your surroundings, or maybe even you, gets visited by the dark monster, it’s good to be able to see what’s happening. You might be able to ask or give help sooner, as it is easier of there is someone to fight the monster off. But letting someone help you fight it, that’s is a struggle on itself. Because the monster wants you to believe you’re on your own, it wants to you push everyone away. The more alone you are, the more power it can and will have over you. 

I will round this post up now. I hope it has given you a small insight into living with a dark passenger. How is is to never feel really safe, because the monster is always lurking in the shade/darkness. 

If you recognize some of these feelings, please make an appointment with your GP, even just to take about it. If it can give you the help and support you might need (in the near or far future). If you recognize this in someone you know well, please try to talk about it. Or don’t let them push you away easily when their monster is attacking them. 

Thank you for your interest. Wishing you all the best, 

Lonely Wallflower 

Disappointment – in Gaming

•February 20, 2017 • Leave a Comment

We all know it, we all face it at times, we see it in ourselves and in others. May it be people you know, teams you support (and they lose)… Disappointment.


My self esteem is very low. I guess years of bullying does that to someone. Plus never being really good at things, always having to see and hear how others excell while you struggle… I am very happy to know that some stuff I have always had difficulties with, I experience because of (some of my) mental issues. They are even points on the DSM-IV list (sorry, that I know for sure and am too lazy at the moment to check the new DSM-V lists, but at the time when I was diagnosed, those points were there). My eye-hand co-ordination has never been the best and my fine motor skills are anything but fine.

This also is part of the reason I have never been really good at computer/console games. Because I am just a tad to slow, I often miss the window of opportunity, hence I keep failing. At times I could figure out a timer on an event, and be prepared for it. But when playing an MMORPG (Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game), it’s hard to time things. OK, in dungeons and raids, some things you know will happen, but as it’s less predictable, it gets harder for me to be prepared.

Many games I have started enthusiastic and had to give up because I could not get past a certain task or event. And that sucks… Big time! I am aware of the reason, but the reason is within me and it makes me mad. It makes me sad that I am such a failure. And when I play alone, it’s less bad than when you’re playing with others.

One game I do love and am happy to say I can play pretty OK, is Diablo 3 (Reaper of Souls). Lately I have been playing it more on the PS4, as the controller can be easier for me to handle than a mouse and keyboard. Not all PC functions are available yet, but they’re working on it.

This is just a bit of game play on PS4 I have shared. I haven’t shared a lot yet, but do have a channel on YouTube, just in case I want to share 🙂 If you’re interested, you can follow this link and it will take you to my channel!

But this post is mainly to write about how far that disappointment in myself can take me, as I can and will melt down if it keeps on going badly. Last night, I was in my Sunday weekly WoW dungeon group. And I am so grateful for these people, as without them, I would never be able to experience WoW as I can do now. But they wanted to try the Mythic settings and the last time we tried, we failed badly at the last boss. We were trying to defeat Odyn at the Halls of Valor (links for those who are interested). And this time, though it did go a wee bit better, I ended up dying a lot, again. And it brought me down. Every time I failed to stay alive, I kicked myself in the guts. I was letting my group down, I was not being worthy and well, I guess you all know how we are able to take oneself down completely. And then, after dying again, I broke down. I could not do it anymore. I had been trying to play for a while, while tears were rolling down my cheeks. This didn’t help either as it fogged up my glasses….. But that’s beside the point, as I was very good at dying when I could see better through them as well. I was mad. Mad at the group for making me do mythic while I said I would not be able to. Mad at me for not being able to. Mad at my hands for not being able to keep up… I was mad on so many levels… I cried, cried and well, cried some more. In the end, we gave up on the last boss, again. We decided to do another dungeon, this time a difficulty setting lower, HC, and we kinda aced through it. I loved it, as I was helping, doing damage, keeping alive. That really helped me to see that I would be able to do mythic at some point, but due to my squishy-ness, I needed higher gear to have more health so that would  be able to compensate for being just a tad too slow at times.

My little Gnome Monk, Gnömski

My little Gnome Monk, Gnömski

So now I am on a mission, one I was already on: getting better gear. Unfortunately, my luck is almost worse than my game play. At times, when an item can be used by different people, you roll for it. It’s like an electronic dice that gives you a random number between 1-100. So I am up against someone else, as we both need that awesome leather piece. He rolls an 8, and people start being happy for me to be able to get it… I warn them, telling them about my shitty luck in this game. Nah, no worries, it’s only an 8. So yeah, I type /roll and it gives me… A 6! I think, when it comes to rolling, I win about 1 in 8 items… Same with getting an item upgraded… When I finally get an item, it’s often as good as what I already had or even worse. I try a lot, doing quest lines, world quests, alone or together with my lovely wife… She truly is amazing, as she pulls me through my meltdowns, helps me get calm, explains to others what happened while I am getting back to it all… Fankoo ❤

I know I am also trying to level other characters, so I may not spend all my time on one… But the time I do spend, I think it should be enough to get lucky soon and improve that gear so I can help my group tackle Mythic dungeons (OK, to be fair, big part of my group can already do them, just not when I am in the group; another reason for feeling more disappointment and anger towards myself, they can do it and I am taking the team down, letting them down).

So, let me post this babbling and let’s get back to Azeroth! For the Alliance! For meeeeee!


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