A World Not Designed For Us
A World Not Designed For Us There is a window in my room. On the days when my body refuses everything else, when getting up is impossible and the world has shrunk to four walls and a ceiling, I sit and watch through it. If the sun is out, I see people passing. Children playing. Ordinary life unfolding at a distance. It feels close enough to touch, yet completely out of reach. This is what disability looks like from the inside. Not laziness. Not a lifestyle choice. Not a calculation about whether work pays more than support. It is a window. And sometimes, no matter how strong your will is, you simply cannot get to the other side of it. I live with PTSD from military service, fibromyalgia, Functional Neurological Disorder and acquired brain damage following a ruptured brain aneurysm. There are weeks when my body confines me completely. The world carries on without me. The isolation is not just physical. It reaches back into eleven months of hospital admissions and brings that da...