I’m Taking My Time Returning to Normal
It’s not just the closeness, the sudden proximity to people other than my parents. It’s not just the dearth of mask mandates. (You’ll pry mine from my stone-cold, long-dead hands.) It’s not even the…
The Wolf Finally Frees Itself
— Brianna Albers
Brianna Albers (she/her) is a crip-cyborg storyteller living in Minneapolis-St. Paul. She was diagnosed with spinal muscular atrophy type 2 in 1996 and lives with co-occurring physical and mental health conditions. By day she works as an advocate, bridging disability and mental health awareness to empower people to live their best lives; by night, she dabbles in imagination, and is currently writing “An Angel in the Garden,” an adult space fantasy with #OwnVoices disability representation. Find her online at briannahopealbers.com and on social media @briehalbers.
Featured Post
I’m learning nonattachment in my course on world literature
Words always come to me when I need them. Lines by Ada Limón, Anne Boyer, and Marie Howe act as life preservers, guiding me back to my center. When life gets tough, I…
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Naming Disability as a Space of Possibility
A few days ago, I linked my friend Sherry to an article on spatial abolition and disability justice. I knew a few paragraphs into the article that I would be sending it to…
Thanks to the COVID-19 Vaccine, I Was Reunited With an Old Friend
Content warning: The following contains a mention of suicide. If you know me at all, you know that I love Target. I’m not proud of it. If anything, I’m this close to canceling my RedCard…
SMA Complicates Everything — Even Hygiene and Skin Care
I spent the majority of high school — and middle school, and undergrad, for that matter — stressed about my skin. I’ve written about it several times, from my cystic acne saga to the…
Climbing Out of That Which Resembles the Grave, but Isn’t
I’ll be honest. I wasn’t sure what to write about. To the point where I briefly considered skipping this week’s column. I try not to, because I’m an overachiever who likes the accomplishment that…
Pride Cometh Before the Side Effects
It’s not that I didn’t think I’d have side effects. I hoped. Just like I hoped that COVID-19 would wind down by late last summer; just like I hoped “The Rise of Skywalker” would…
The Green-eyed Elephant in the Room
Let’s talk about the green-eyed elephant in the room. I’m a naturally jealous person. The therapist in me is convinced that my childhood has something to do with it — all those hours…
As SMA Treatments Advance, History Has Its Eyes on Us
I’ve dreamed of cures. Miracles that occur in the blink of an eye. One minute, I’m sitting in my wheelchair, and the next, I’m standing, walking, running. I’m wobbly on my feet, of course,…
The Evrysdi Chronicles: Full Speed Ahead
According to my mother, my columns are the first result when you Google “Evrysdi (risdiplam) denial.” Which isn’t surprising. I’ve written several scathing columns about the application process, from verifying my…
3 Melatonin Pills a Night Keep the Hallucinations at Bay
I see things that aren’t there. The writer in me realizes that, at first blush, this sounds like the opening line of a young adult novel. Take, for example, Maggie Stiefvater’s “The Raven Boys,”…
Unlike Hamilton, I Threw Away My Shot
My first instinct was to scream. After weeks of waiting, and days of researching clinics and time slots, I finally received the prized text message: “Brianna and 2 caregivers have been selected for the…
As Spring Arrives, I’m Reflecting on a Year of Quarantine
Time has no meaning anymore. I barely know what day it is. I’m safe in my self-contained bubble of cat cuddles and electric blankets. I rarely ever leave the house. Most of my doctors…
