I’m Tired of Being Strong, But I’m Still Here.

This may be the roughest week I’ve had all year.

For two days, my work laptop has been fighting me. Projects are falling behind. Tasks are piling up. Then this morning, as if life decided I wasn’t stressed enough, my wheelchair battery died while I was crossing the street.

Seriously. What else you got?

And this isn’t happening in isolation.

For weeks, I’ve also been dealing with my ongoing journey with Access-A-Ride. Late pickups. Unreliable third-party vehicles. Questions about safety and accessibility. Never quite knowing how the ride to or from work is going to go.

Transportation is something most people barely think about. You leave your house and go where you need to go.

For me, getting to work sometimes feels like I’ve already completed half a day’s work before I even reach my desk.

Then there’s MS.

Living with MS requires me to think ahead constantly. Energy. Mobility. Transportation. Temperature. Accessibility. Battery life. Things other people rarely need to calculate before leaving home.

Add clinically diagnosed anxiety, and a few bad days start feeling much heavier than they look from the outside.

Part of me wants to throw in the towel, retire from adulthood for the rest of the week, and try again Monday.

And you know what?

I think I’m allowed to feel that way.

I don’t need to turn every difficult moment into some inspirational lesson about strength. Sometimes things suck. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed. Sometimes I’m tired of adapting.

But even with everything going wrong, I still see a little light shining through.

I’m here.

I’m frustrated, anxious and exhausted, but I’m here.

My wheelchair dying while crossing the street could have ended much differently. My laptop will eventually get fixed. The projects will get done. Access-A-Ride will continue being Access-A-Ride, and somehow I’ll keep navigating it.

This week will eventually become last week.

Maybe the light isn’t telling me everything is going to be okay.

Maybe it’s reminding me that everything doesn’t have to be okay for me to keep going.

This moment is difficult.

It is not permanent.

And today, that’s enough light for me.