From Blog to YouTube: Why I Finally Took the Leap in 2026 An honest look at anxiety, disability and the creative process. By Dusty Wentworth

 

I did not set out to become a writer.

In October 2023, I was admitted to hospital. As with many long admissions, time became distorted. Days blurred into one another, routines were imposed, and the sense of identity I had carried for most of my life began to erode. During that admission, my occupational therapist suggested I keep a diary. It was not framed as a creative exercise, but as a practical intervention, a way to track thoughts, symptoms and emotional changes during recovery.

I was sceptical, but I agreed.

At first, the entries were short and functional. Notes about pain levels, fatigue, frustration and sleep. Slowly, almost without noticing, the writing changed. The diary became a place to offload emotions I could not articulate out loud. It became somewhere I could process fear, anger and grief without having to manage anyone else’s response. Writing imposed structure on chaos. It helped me make sense of what had happened to me and what was still happening.

After eleven months, I was finally discharged. By that point, the diary habit was embedded. I kept writing, not because I had been advised to, but because it had become essential. Writing was no longer simply part of my recovery toolkit. It was part of how I functioned.

It was my daughter, Taylor, who first suggested turning that private writing into something public. She saw value in it long before I did. Her encouragement led me to start a blog on 14 May 2025. There was no strategy behind it, no expectation of reach or engagement. I simply continued doing what had helped me survive, only this time in the open.

Over time, the blog grew. What began as personal reflection became conversation. The words resonated with people navigating trauma, disability, identity loss and recovery. Writing had given me a voice again, and unexpectedly, it gave others permission to reflect on their own experiences too.

By the beginning of 2026, it felt like the right moment to take that work further. Adding a YouTube channel seemed like a natural progression. Video offered the possibility of speaking directly, of adding tone and presence to words that had so far lived only on the page. The intention was never to replace writing, but to complement it.

The idea, however, was far simpler than the reality.

When intention meets reality

The first issue presented itself immediately. The moment I sat in front of a camera, my anxiety spiked. That initial surge triggered many of my other symptoms, including cognitive disruption, physical tension and fatigue. What I had imagined as a straightforward step forward quickly became a significant barrier.

This is something that many people without complex health conditions underestimate. Anxiety is not simply nervousness. In people with neurological injury or trauma related conditions, anxiety can cascade through the body, amplifying cognitive impairment, fatigue and physical symptoms. This is well documented across clinical literature and organisations supporting people with acquired brain injury. I experienced that reality first hand.

It became clear very quickly that if this project was going to move forward, a workaround was essential. Pushing through was not an option. That approach has a long history of failure in my life, and one I have worked hard to unlearn.

The importance of support and collaboration

This is where David comes in.

David is my personal assistant. On paper, his role is practical and structured. He helps me access the community, attend appointments and engage in activities that would otherwise be difficult or impossible. He supports my care plan, assists with transport, and provides the practical help that allows me to live with a degree of independence.

In reality, the role has evolved far beyond the job description.

As part of supporting me to access meaningful activity, David and I began working together on the YouTube project. What started as practical assistance quickly became a collaborative creative process. One of the unexpected pleasures of this work has been the freedom to create content in different environments. Coffee shops have become a firm favourite. The background noise, movement and sense of normality help regulate my nervous system in a way silence often does not.

That flexibility has been a key factor in making this project sustainable.

Why AI was not the solution I expected

Initially, I believed artificial intelligence video and voice generation might be the answer. On the surface, it seemed ideal. No camera anxiety, no physical strain, no cognitive overload. I could write the script and let the technology handle the rest.

In practice, it fell flat.

AI generated video and voice lacked emotion. It was technically impressive but emotionally empty. The nuance, the pauses and the weight behind the words were missing. When I write, the words carry the emotional content. Readers supply tone and expression themselves. In written form, that works. In video, it does not translate in the same way.

The creative process for video is fundamentally different from writing. Video relies on timing, tone, facial expression and pacing. Without those elements, the message loses its impact. We quickly realised that AI could assist parts of the process, but it could not replace it.

The steep learning curve

Accepting that reality was not easy.

There was a steep learning curve, and with it came disappointment. I felt frustrated and, at times, angry. The channel launch was delayed. Plans had to be reworked. Expectations had to be adjusted. For someone already living with significant limitations, delays can feel deeply personal, as though another door has quietly closed.

When goals are disrupted, particularly for people whose lives are shaped by illness or disability, emotional responses are often intensified. Recognising that did not remove the frustration, but it helped me understand that my reaction was human, not failure.

Growth through collaboration

Working with David through this period changed the trajectory of the project. Rather than viewing limitations as an ending, we began to treat them as creative constraints. David brought a practical, problem solving mindset shaped by his studies in IT security at a local university.

He is resourceful, patient and an excellent teacher. Cognitive issues and significant memory loss mean that learning technology is challenging. Repetition is often necessary. David approaches this without judgement, breaking tasks into manageable steps and reinforcing progress rather than focusing on mistakes.

There is humour too. I would be lying if I said I did not envy his typing speed. If I could type like that, it would dramatically improve my writing workflow. Still, progress matters more than pace.

Reframing my relationship with AI

Part of me has welcomed the fact that AI was not a quick fix. Being forced into a deeper creative process has been unexpectedly valuable. AI now sits where it should, as a tool rather than an escape.

AI has become a cultural dividing line. Many people love it. Others distrust it. I was firmly in the latter camp.

Through working with David and gaining a clearer understanding of how these tools function, my perspective has shifted. AI is not a replacement for creativity, effort or thought. Used properly, it reduces friction rather than responsibility.

That distinction matters.

The wider impact of good support

I count myself fortunate that David applied for the role of my personal assistant. He has brought far more to it than I anticipated. Yes, he attends medical appointments with me. Yes, he helps load my wheelchair after I transfer into the car. Yes, he manages aspects of my care plan and supports me to access the community.

But he also challenges me.

He encourages me to push boundaries carefully. He helps me pace myself, an essential skill when fatigue and cognitive overload are constant risks. By helping structure my workload, he has supported my cognitive function and reduced fatigue. Research into neurological fatigue consistently highlights pacing and structure as key strategies.

This is not theory. It is lived experience.

Creativity as therapy

I have spoken before about how writing became part of my medical recovery. It allowed me to process trauma, loss and identity change. Over time, it became a means of connection.

David has helped elevate that creative process. Together, we have reframed it as both communication and therapy. Creative approaches are increasingly recognised for their role in emotional regulation, resilience and recovery.

Through this new process, I am building resilience. I am learning to pace myself. I am relearning old skills and developing new ones. Most importantly, I am doing so without pressure to perform or be perfect.

Looking ahead

The YouTube channel is not launching in the way I originally imagined. In many ways, that is a good thing. It is being built slowly, thoughtfully and sustainably. It reflects where I am now, not where I thought I should be.

This project is not about algorithms or numbers. It is about honesty, conversation and connection.

If there is one lesson here, it is this. Progress does not always look like forward momentum. Sometimes it looks like stopping, reassessing and choosing a different route.

A gentle invitation

If you have followed my writing until now, thank you. That support, whether quiet or vocal, has mattered more than you may realise. Writing began as a private act of survival, and it still carries that weight for me.

The move towards video is not about abandoning the written word. It is about continuing the conversation in a different form. The YouTube channel will reflect the same values that have shaped the blog. Honesty over polish. Substance over performance. Progress over perfection.

Content will be shared slowly and intentionally. This is not a channel driven by trends or algorithms, but by capacity, pacing and purpose. Some videos will be reflective. Others will explore disability, recovery, creativity, technology and the realities of adaptation.

If you would like to follow that journey from the beginning, you are welcome to subscribe to @DustyWentworthTalks on YouTube. Subscribing simply ensures you do not miss out when we start posting and allows you to follow the journey as it unfolds.

As with the blog, this is not about having all the answers. It is about learning in public, asking better questions and continuing to find meaning in the process.

Thank you for reading, and if you choose to, I look forward to continuing the journey with you.

#Dustywentworth

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