The Hunter's Journal

There are going to be posts about ways to write with disabilities. There’s going to be posts on different techniques, software, etc. This post isn’t about that. This post is about revving you up and cheering you on, even when your body or your mind betrays you.

“Look at what she went through! Isn’t she brave?” Gods above and below do not know how much I hate being called brave in relation to my disabilities. This isn’t a fire I ran into to save a kitten. This is my body and my mind betraying me in new and interesting ways every time I walk into a doctor’s office. (And I know I’m not alone in that sentiment.)

Possibly the greatest thing about the internet is the diversity that it brings together. You never know what’s going on behind the screen at the other end, but if you’re smart, you realize not everyone is the same-abled. Meaning, what you do with ease, may be a struggle - or downright impossible - for someone else.

But the one thing that’s true about all of us is we are writers. Whether it be fanfiction, original fiction, poetry, haikus, or something else, we write. That is what we do. It’s a part of who we are.

There are other parts. The parts that don’t work so well, the parts that give out on us. We are writers, yes, but we’re also living with something that others may well call a disability. We call it our daily life.

Living with a disability - visible or invisible - is a hard road, but (and here I’m going to get a little controversial) we are not “strong.” This is our daily life, and something that we have to deal with, just to get up in the morning. There is no other alternative. Do we have days where we lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, tears running down our cheeks into our ears? Absolutely. Do we have days where we curl up somewhere and just scream into a pillow? I do. Do we have days where we are jealous of or angry at someone who doesn’t have to do as we do? Yes. There are days when the thought of opening my Mac and looking at word documents terrifies the hell out of me. I can’t do it. I can’t open the Mac, step into the internet and be me. I want to be me, but a better, different me that doesn’t have to slowly creep to her feet. A different me that doesn’t have to convince myself that running away and living as a hermit is a bad idea.

But I do scroll my social media. I find out this person or that is having a bad day or this one is having a wonderful day, and I bask in their joy. The one having a bad day, I offer commiseration and we bond over the bad times. That makes me reach for the Mac.

But this wonderful world of wires and circuits has brought us together. Where good days or bad, we can share what’s going on - whether it be through a social media post, or us just telling our friends that we’re writing.

And here we are, writers of many shapes and stripes. Here we are, writing, entering a long challenge to see where we can go.

But, you have other challenges, challenges that mean that you have to take it easy or take a step back. These challenges mean that you don’t work like other people.

Give yourself grace. Take a day off from writing. Take a day off from the internet. Take time to read, to draw, to color with crayons if the muse strikes. Or take the day and stare at the ceiling and let those tears roll.

Your spoons, or whatever metaphor you’d like to use, are yours to dole out. Yes, there are sometimes things that cannot be avoided. Most of us have a job - this uses up some spoons, usually, unless you’re very lucky. Some have family that must have our attention. There go some more spoons. But here’s the thing. Your spoons are just that: yours. You decide where they get used. No one else. So hoard them if you want to. Save them up! There’s nothing wrong with that. No one is living in your mind save you and possibly Voldemort, who knows? and that means that you have the final say.

“I have two spoons left. If I go out with friends, they’re gone. But I really want to write, but then I can’t go out.” I’m sure this is a familiar scenario to at least some reading this. I’m going to tell you a secret: If they’re real friends, they’re going to respect your spoonage and possibly text you the next day to set something else up. If they insist you come out because you’ve been hermitting for six months, well… sad to say, they’re real friends too.

I fully support hoarding the spoons. To the point that people who come over, when they know I’m home, but not “out”, they’ll knock on my door and ask “Are you feeling up to company?” Now, sometimes, that means us hanging out in my room. Sometimes, that means them dragging me out of my hovel and into the sunshine. (Note: HISSSS DAY STAR BAD)

Disabilities have such a wide range, that there’s no way I could cover them all, or all scenarios, or challenges that face us. But remember, we’re all writers here.

I don’t care how you write, whether it be by hand, by voice to text, by smoke signals, that still makes you a writer. And being a writer means stepping beyond your physical capabilities, and any mental limitations and settling in to the wonder that are words.

See; you may be disabled in the eyes of someone else. You may flake on everything and forget about important details. You may roll your chair out the door and pinch your fingers. (Seen that happen more than once!) You may never touch a keyboard. But here, you are a writer. That’s what you are, my friend. You use language to paint a picture just as vivid as any color palette. You take the who, what, where, when, why, how and answer those questions. Maybe it’s an everyone lives AU! Maybe it’s a story that you wanted to read as a little kid, but it wasn’t out there for you. Doesn’t matter. You are a writer.

Disabilities can do things to us. To our bodies, to our minds, to our physical and mental health. But if you dream of dragons, then you can fly.

I could leave it there, but honestly, I have more to say.

I’m a disabled writer - mentally and physically - and somedays just sitting at my work computer is so taxing, I can’t think of going home and writing or editing. But then I get home, and I get that moment of breathing in the familiarity of home and my fingers itch for a keyboard. So, I sit with my Mac in my lap, and I start to tap, and tap, and tap… I create worlds where a woman without an arm is seen as a fierce warrior - not for what she went through, but because she’s a beast when she has a mace in her hand and worth three of any man. I take a blind character by the hand, but then step back and let her roam at her will, knowing she’ll go through trials, but she’ll be fine. I write of the prejudice that someone born with blue hair goes through, all because of a quirk of genetics.

Here’s the thing: You were dealt a bad hand. You got the shit end of the stick. Whatever you want to call it, I will validate your feelings of “this sucks and it’s not fair!” You’re right, it’s not fair. But you’re a writer. Nothing will take that from you. Nothing. Unless you let it. Not a physical disability, not a mental one. It may feel like some days you’re clinging to that with breaking fingernails with an abyss below, but don’t you dare let anything or anyone take that away from you.

You are more than your health. Dream of dragons and fly….