Greetings and salutations. Hello. Welcome. Yes, I am still alive.

Well, I’m as alive as I can be, following my recent health troubles.

For the last 15 days I’ve been suffering with serious back trouble. I could barely walk for the first week or so, every step was pure agony. Sitting was agony too and laying down was impossible. I was well and truly fucked.

I’ve been seeing a chiropractor and I think he’s helped a lot. I’ve had countless adjustments, starting with a home visit because I couldn’t get to his office. I’m walking well now and have much less pain, I’m hoping to return to work later in the week.

This episode really freaked me out, I was practically crippled. I couldn’t even make it to the loo without assistance from Mrs. H, I couldn’t get dressed, prepare a meal, do any household chores. I couldn’t even sit at my desk and use my iMac, I couldn’t use my laptop for the first week or so. If it wasn’t for my iPhone, I would have been completely cut off from the world.

There’s a sense of panic and desperation that one is overcome with in these situations and I was no exception. As I sat upright on my sofa, for the fifth or sixth night, desperately trying to snatch an hour or two of light, unsatisfying sleep, dark and dangerous thoughts would bubble to the surface of my brain.

What if this is permanent?

What if this is the beginning of my slow, gradual health decline leading to my premature death.

What if I don’t get better?

What if the excruciating pain never ends?

What if….

I found myself having mini-panic attacks, hyperventilating slightly and relief not coming through the codeine or spliffs.

Though my back may be improving, I find myself filled with a lingering, nagging depression over my future.

Is this the beginning of the end?

They say that every second after your born, you are one second closer to death, so in the more general sense, the end has no beginning; or rather the beginning of the end, begins at the very beginning.

But that’s not what I mean. I just have this horrible, deep feeling that my best years are well and truly behind me. It’s probably true, as its undoubtedly true that I’ve lived more than half my life already as the chances of me even coming close to 90 are slim to none.

I’m feeling my mortality and I don’t like it. I feel like I’ve aged in the last fortnight, like my years have finally caught up with me. I don’t feel youthful, as I always have, instead I’ve felt like a decrepit old man.

The thought of a slow, painful slide towards death fills me with dread. I don’t want to suffer through a litany of minor and major health problems until one of them finally snuffs me out. That just sounds horrible!

I suppose death is very much on my mind because of the death of my cat a few weeks ago, which I witnessed firsthand in all its miserable, torturous glory. While her death was mercifully quick, she didn’t go gently into that goodnight.

Watching her contort and struggle against the hand of the grim reaper has had a profound effect on me, though I am still trying to decipher what exactly what effect it has had. I’d never actually been with any living creature, human or animal, at the point of death until her passing three weeks ago.

My younger brother, who is far more spiritual than I could ever hope to be, says I absorbed something from this experience, which manifested itself with my back trouble, or perhaps was this was the trigger for it. I can’t say I am convinced.

When the chiropractor was taking my background and history, one of his first questions was if I suffered any traumas recently; my cat died about a week before the real pain started, though I had soreness in my back a few days before it really hit me.

The chiropractor said that my back trouble was building up over time, that the inflammation had worsened to the point of spasms in my back muscles, causing acute pain.

Is this a coincidence of timing or definitive cause and effect? I couldn’t really say. You could convincingly put across either side of this argument and I just don’t know.

All of this has left me hating aging and mortality even more than before and I didn’t think that was possible. What’s a self-confessed sociopath and amateur narcissist to do?

Keep hoping that someone works out a way to download my brain into a computer after the death of my body, so I can continue to exist, in digital form. How else can I hope to keep posting drivel here throughout eternity?