Wrong Medication

I thought I had found a safe haven in your arms. I thought you’d make it all better. But instead, you made me feel more alone. The world is a strange place. You are fine walking on your own, until one day someone stops you, asks you if you are okay. You asked if I was okay, and I should have avoided answering. To open up is to risk. And now I’m here wondering what went wrong.   

Thoughts on Random Disability

As a Disability Studies scholar, I have referred to Multiple Sclerosis (MS) as a random disability. I have unpacked this term in a couple of essays. Soon, I am publishing an essay in a Disability Studies Anthology. This is quite exciting and I feel a certain satisfaction in having established/coined the term.

Because MS is not predictable, not easily understood, it remains a mystery to scientists and the general population. I tend to shrug my shoulders when I try to explain it, in the same way that doctors shrug their shoulders at me.

This randomness does not make any sense to me, a logical person who demands answers, solutions, explanations. While I was presenting a paper at the International Conference for Innovation in Literature and the Sciences – I began to feel this crushing fatigue, and my vision was starting to blur. I felt estranged from my own body, from my self. I could not focus on the success of the moment, but rather, all I wanted was to retain my vision. I simply wanted to keep it. I was afraid and alone. Fear is yet another concept I am learning to grapple with. Strength and fear are more interconnected than we think. I am afraid of being too strong, forgetting vulnerability, and I am afraid of being weak, and unable to depend on myself.

And that’s all for now.