The QueerKYD, Author at The Queer KYD

April 27, 2026May 3, 2026

Paying The Price

A simple journal post for today.

I’m dead tired even though I slept hard last night. Just about every bone in my body aches from the abuse I put it through for a good chunk of last week. Three days later I’m paying for it, as always with the pain comes lack of sleep. Sure enough I woke up this morning feeling blue.

I told my wife, the one and only Mrs. Kyd, that I was “stove up” .

“I’m all stove up this morning.”

“You’re what?”

“You know…stove up.”

“And what the heck does that mean?”

April 20, 2026April 20, 2026

“If You’re Having That Much Pain, Imagine How Bad it Really Is”

The title above is a quote from my daughter, who was responding to an email I had sent to her last Tuesday.

If you’ve read the previous post you’ll know how bad I was the Sunday night. All the bad actors were waging war at the same time. (One week later I can sit here at the dining room table and try to post. My new goal is to post at least once a week, which is pretty awful.) That Sunday night the pain had reached one of the highest I have ever felt. Ever. That’s a lot of disasters, accidents and stupid mistakes over the last 60 years, all causing major negative consequences. Broken bones, stitches, bruising, gashes, you name it -I’ve had it.

April 19, 2026April 20, 2026

Totally Irrelevant Dribble: Or How I can Kill Days Navel Gazing

Is that the right term? Navel gazing?

I believe it means that I’m doing absolutely nothing but sitting with my head down staring at my navel. Hours blown while my mind zooms in and out and back to where it started. Repeat.

In my case, just to be honest, I’m staring at a “navel” that exists in a million year old river rock that I stole from someone’s garden. A small slit that was once full of crystals, long eroded over the millenia.

Of course there’s a story behind this.

April 3, 2026April 3, 2026

An Indescribable Feeling of Joy

A couple of weeks ago I opened my eyes, looked at the iPhone on the coffee table and realized I had slept from 10:30 last night without waking. I was basically in the same position I started in, on the couch and curled up in a semi-fetal position. 7:30 in the morning, with hints of sun coming through the front window.

Within 30 seconds of waking, I also realized that the overwhelming nausea I had felt for the last 6 days was gone completely. My pain level that morning was the lowest it had been in several weeks. The normal feeling of aching in every joint was gone, maybe not completely, but enough my mind was not attuned to it. For once pain was not a constant distraction.

March 18, 2026May 9, 2026

Frustration and the Inability to Heal

I’m overly frustrated today, as I find myself exhausted and down. A funk has set in, the shadow of a cloud is once again hanging over my head. Maybe it’s a reaction to lack of sleep for the next two nights, as restless legs have been keeping me up until 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning before I finally fall asleep. My body aches, but at least I’m not sick, meaning my gut seems fine.

Mrs. Kyd has been traveling, and during our nightly call I told her I could feel my depression coming on and that I was feeling down for no specific reason. Is it this unbearable lengthy winter we’re experiencing, or the loneliness I go through when she’s traveling? I don’t think so. Seasonal Affective Disorder? Hmmm…it certainly plays a role, but don’t think it would cause such ups and downs.

March 11, 2026March 11, 2026

The Gander Attack: A Tale of Trauma (Part 1)

(Author’s note: My apologies for doing this in 2 parts, but there was a bit of background that I thought was relevant. Although this isn’t directly related to my personal situation in dealing with PTSD, depression, and the like, it’s something very similar. Okay, to be truthful, just another brain fart from yours truly.)

This is a tale of a traumatic event, and the resulting consequences suffered by my best friend. It starts from when the two of us bonded, the traumatic event itself, and how it affected both our lives. Since we are inter-connected, we share the same goal of trying to make things better.

My best friend, Blu, was diagnosed with epilepsy when he was a 1 year old puppy. Still in the “cute” stage of puppyhood, but nearly full grown. In my humble layman’s thinking, I now feel the diagnosis of epilepsy to be inaccurate. You will have to bear with me as I let the whole story unfold.

March 2, 2026March 3, 2026

An Infinite Sadness

So after much deliberation, internal debate I have given up on the possibility of ever feeling “better”. An objective reasoning based on a simple method of analysis and data. I wake up sick and in pain, if I’ve even gone to sleep. At times “waking up” simply means getting up off the couch.

When I do sleep it’s from the dose of trazodone, then the dogs wake me up in a stupor.

Yesterday I decided to abandon all hope of feeling half decent and decided I just need to learn how to get by everyday feeling like crap. There is data that supports this, as my TimeTree calendar has a note on every day I’ve been sick since last September.

I was hoping, praying, this year would be different, but I started with a fresh count and after 2 months I’ve been bedridden for 20 days. 20 days out of 60, or for you statisticians a whopping 33%. Not that that has anything to do with statistics.

For 20 days I was totally non-functioning. I would give up on sleep, and if I slept a few hours would wake up from the nausea. All I could do was sip ginger ale, eat a saltine or a Ritz cracker, and go lay down. First the couch, then the bed. Up and down as there is nothing I can do to get comfortable. My own body the villain.

It’s hard to describe the feeling really, the worst seasickness? Or a case of the flu? All wrapped up together. If I’m lucky on day four or five I can eat plain pasta in the form of egg noodles, maybe a piece of toast.

Then I’ve got a week or ten days where I have to grab life and take advantage of the time. Live as much as I can while waiting for it to happen again. I live in fear of the next time, but it keeps on happening.

It’s caused such a feeling of melancholy, way beyond the depression I deal with.

It’s the knowledge that this is what I have to deal with from here on out, that is the way my life will be.

Remorse.

Dejection.

Like life is being slowly taken from me.

I’ve spent the last 10 years dealing with pain, so now this is one more thing to cope with. That’s the best way to put it, just cope.

Sorry if I’m whining, just feeling it today..

February 13, 2026February 9, 2026

Over-reacting or Just Plain Over Acting? Neither, It’s me, it’s normal.

(Author’s note: my apologies for the delay in posting, well actually not posting at all lately. Having been bedridden for 14 days in January I find myself way past being down. Waaaaay past. I’m going to have to force myself to take action, do something, anything, or it’s never going to get better. In the meantime, here’s a look at my day from hell today.)

There’s a reason for the title, as I find myself reacting to a bad situation on a day that started off well. I almost felt half decent this morning, both physically and mentally. Every day has its challenges when you deal with both chronic pain and depression, but today had started off promising. The day wound down with thoughts of ending it all as it’s the only way I can see to get out of this miserable world I’ve created.

February 9, 2026February 9, 2026

Good Lord, I feel Like I’m Dyin

Author’s note: My good friend tells me I’m not whining, I’m venting, and have every right to do so.. So this is a vent about the last few weeks, following a horrible Christmas. Being constantly ill (nauseated) and in physical pain for these past 5 years has been more than a challenge. I don’t know how many more times I can pull myself back up, as the frequency of these “events” seems to be increasing. I was hoping for a break after the Christmas disaster, but alas…)

If you read this blog you know by now music plays a big role in my life. Something is playing in my head constantly as background music, my own personal elevator Muzak. Every once in a while it’s something new, the melody breaks through my train of thought and I have to sit at the piano.

It’s usually something from my past.

January 19, 2026January 19, 2026

The Second Worst Christmas

Seems I’m leaning toward writing about seconds, more specifically the second worst things in my life. Am I saving the worst things for last? Seems that way. But I will write about the longest day of my life, and the worst Christmas I promise. They’re at least a fun read. Someone once told me my life is like a movie with too many plot twists and turns to be real. I wish. The worst Christmas is a long drawn out saga of travel and adventure…haha. But it did have a happy ending, sorta.

But let’s talk about the Second Worst Christmas. Apologies for the shorter length of this, I’m in a fight at the moment. Nothing new, just my body is waging war against an invader, yet to be identified. Whatever is happening, it’s like I’m an innocent bystander who is forced to endure an ever worsening fight with pain, inflammation and severe nausea. The pain in my gut is crippling, and I’m relegated to laying in bed all day, stopping every so often for a cig and more ginger ale..