Journal - Page 2 of 13 - The Queer KYD

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..

January 3, 2026January 3, 2026

Coming Out to My Kids (or the Second longest Day of My Life)

I have a great fear of rejection I suppose. That might be enough to write a separate post all on its own, why that developed over the years. It might be a symptom of PTSD, or being queer, or my relationship with my father. Who knows what really. Maybe the fear of rejection comes from moving every year in grade school, and having to try to blend in and make friends.

I noticed it occurring this week again, as demonstrated by my inability to look at a post I made on Facebook. Just like the email sent to my kids 2 years ago, living in fear of what they would say.

December 20, 2025December 20, 2025

A Roller Coaster When a Ferris Wheel is Needed

I’m stuck on this ride and can’t get off. I’m trying real hard…inside…to turn things around.

I have been unable to post or write anything. Which is frustrating in itself, just adds to the pile. I have to remind myself that writing while in the deepest throes of depression may be a way out. A way off this ride.

Don’t expect much, because doing anything while suffering from depression is getting to be damn difficult.

December 15, 2025December 15, 2025

The Ladybug, Tossed Out In The Cold.

Author’s note: I haven’t posted for some time, my apologies. I find myself slowly recovering from eye surgery, winter has descended in full force, and I’m really down. There’s little I can do, simply make it through each day.

I’m not done…yet

I was stuck in bed again, well the couch and bed, recouping from eye surgery. Laser cataract treatment to be exact, finally completed 10 months after the retinal surgery. They basically removed the real lens that was clouded over from the first surgery and popped in a plastic one. All for a measly sum of $1300 out of pocket.

The operation itself wasn’t bad compared to the first one, 30 minutes versus 3 hours. Even the recovery time is a lot easier, I simply have to put two dozen drops in my right eye everyday, don’t bend over and don’t pick up anything more than 10 pounds.

Which is a problem in itself.

December 12, 2025December 12, 2025

A Short Break in a Long Life

There’s no point to this, I just needed to write for myself.

I wish I could take a break, as we all probably do. I don’t mean two weeks on the beach in Cancun or the Mayan Riviera. Although that would be nice, I agree. I mean just escaping this body and the ills of pain and depression for a while. Sleep would help, and would at least give me some time to just not think.

A break from a mind always in overdrive. but can’t rely on alcohol to turn it off. Yeah that may have worked, sometimes, but the side effects were worse than the depression, fed the disease.

I had to take a break from writing. I haven’t been posting simply because my body, with all its aches and pains, was dictating the mood. When you’re in so much pain and constantly nauseated it’s difficult to concentrate, and as such my writing goes out the window.

November 24, 2025November 24, 2025

Food for Thought: A cry for help perhaps?

Sorry if I confused you with the title, but I haven’t switched over to the dark side of recipe blogging. That’s clever, calling food blogging the dark side, unless it’s like me and the recipe is for burnt toast.

Still the same boring old queer stuff, but the following conversation with Mrs. K really provided me with some food for thought, and god knows I don’t think enough.

Before you read all the gibberish it may help if we review some of the jargon used in the queer world. Sort of a brief of who’s what. Read on.

November 19, 2025November 24, 2025

Take the Good with the Bad

Or is that the other way around, perhaps the bad with the good? Either way life has its ups and downs, I just happen to have more of the latter. I could give up and give in, but can’t. Not yet anyway.

The other morning I woke up early, when the missus was out of town for a few days on business. She left only after I reassured her I would be okay and could look after the three of us. At least the dogs would be fine.

I’d been bedridden for the last 6 days. Apparently I’ve developed a serious food allergy of some kind, but we have yet to figure out what exactly. We’re narrowing it down to pork, seafood, and/or a variety of spices. Okay, that’s not too narrow. This is the second time in 2 months this has occurred. It takes a full week until I feel half way normal, a full week of hell. In the last 40 days I’ve spent 18 in bed. Most of those I couldn’t even manage feeding the dogs.