The Resilience Report

Hard-Won Wisdom, Fresh Perspectives, and a Little Humor to Keep You Going

Mar 28, 2025

Hey There,

With turning 45 years old (3/30) and my new book coming out (4/1), A Good Calamity: Useful Essays and Poems on Living with a Disability, I’ve decided to celebrate by doing something new.

Life throws curveballs—some we dodge, some we take straight to the face. And let’s be real, some knock us flat on our ass.

This newsletter—The Resilience Report—is for those of us who get back up anyway—sometimes a little wobbly, sometimes with a few extra screws (literal or metaphorical), but always with a damn good story to tell.

For the next 6 weeks (to give me enough time and content to reflect on this little project), I’ll share hard-earned wisdom, a fresh way to look at life’s challenges, and a little humor—because if we don’t laugh, we might just cry (or throw something).

Hard-Won Wisdom: Why I Stopped Waiting for the ‘Old Me’ to Come Back

✏️For a long time, I kept waiting to feel like myself again. The “before” version—the one who didn’t need a cane, who didn’t lose his balance reaching for a coffee cup, who didn’t feel like a stranger in his own body. I thought if I just pushed through, if I just held on, I’d get back to who I was before cerebellar ataxia crashed into my life and rearranged everything.

Spoiler: That version of me isn’t coming back.

It took me years to stop fighting that truth. And if I’m honest, I still wrestle with it some days. Because losing abilities, losing control—it’s a grief that sneaks up on you in the quiet moments. But here’s what I’ve learned: Hard-won wisdom doesn’t come easy, but it comes honest. And when you finally stop clinging to what was, your hands are free to build something new.

Ataxia took a lot from me. It forced me to retire from a career I loved as a high school English teacher. It changed how I move, how I speak, how I navigate the world. But it also gave me something in return—perspective. The kind you can’t buy or fake. The kind that only comes from walking through fire (or in my case, stumbling through it).

It taught me that resilience isn’t about pretending things are fine. It’s about acknowledging the struggle and choosing to keep going anyway. It’s about rewriting the narrative, finding new ways to do the things that matter, and recognizing that worth isn’t tied to productivity or perfection.

It taught me to stop waiting for life to be easy before I enjoy it. Because waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect body, the perfect circumstances? That’s a great way to waste the time you do have.

And most importantly, it taught me that laughter—especially the dark, sarcastic kind—is a lifeline. Because if I can joke about the absurdity of it all, if I can find a way to turn pain into punchlines, then I still have power over my story. And that matters.

The wisdom I’ve gained wasn’t handed to me in a neatly wrapped package. It was earned—through falls and frustrations, through lost dreams and found strength, through moments of doubt and defiance. And maybe that’s the only way real wisdom comes.

So, if you’re waiting for your old self to come back, for life to go back to the way it was before, let me tell you—don’t. Instead, take what you’ve learned, take what you’ve lost, take what you still have, and build something new.

Because this version of you? The one who has endured, adapted, and kept showing up? That’s the real one. And that’s enough.

Try This (A Small Shift in Self-Advocacy):

“Advocating for myself is an act of strength, not weakness.”

🚀 For one day, notice every time you hesitate to ask for help—whether it’s a small favor or a big accommodation. Then, instead of hesitating, ask without apologizing. See how it feels to own your needs.

Laugh (So You Don’t Cry):

😆 I recently caught myself congratulating my legs for “doing their job” after a short walk. Who knew my relationship with my body would turn into a workplace performance review?

Words to Carry With You (A Quote That Matters):

📢 "Hope is what drives us to search for answers, to move forward even when everything else seems to be falling apart. If we lose hope, we lose everything." – A Good Calamity

Let’s Keep the Conversation Going

What’s the biggest mindset shift that helped you face a challenge? Hit reply—I’d love to hear it! And if you found this helpful, share it with someone who could use a little resilience boost.

I’m looking to add more resilient voices to this newsletter. Want to share your story? Contact me at writeonfighton@gmail.com or via Substack."

Be well,
Jay

Give a listen to my interview on the Two Disabled Dudes Podcast.

🚨 Don’t wait. This book matters. 🚨

Life doesn’t ask permission before it knocks you down. But resilience? That’s something we build. A Good Calamity: Useful Essays and Poems on Living with a Disability isn’t just my story—it’s about all of us who’ve had to find strength in the wreckage.

If you’ve ever faced a challenge that changed everything… if you’ve ever had to grieve the life you thought you’d have… if you need a reminder that laughter and struggle can coexist—this book is for you.

Pre-Order the eBook Now!!!

Episode 62: Authoring and Authority -- How do they connect?

How does fear shape not just what we write, but how we own our authority as writers? In this episode of The Frustrated Writers’ Club, Gail and Jay dive into the complex relationship between authorship and authority—how fear erodes both. Fear of failure, fear of success, fear that our words don’t matter—or worse, that they do. They also explore how writers in any genre can step into their authority, silencing doubt and owning their voice. Tune in for an honest, witty, and slightly therapeutic conversation about embracing your power as a writer—because claiming your voice is the first step to claiming your authority.

Jay Armstrong is an award-winning author and speaker who refuses to be defined by his diagnosis of a rare neurological disease. Despite challenges with movement, balance, eyesight, and speech, Jay continues to press forward with determination, humor, and hope. As the leader of the Philadelphia Ataxia Support Group, he’s dedicated to helping others find joy, peace, and meaning in their lives, no matter the obstacles they face.

Thanks for reading Jay Armstrong, The (dis)Abled Writer! If my words have made you think, laugh, or feel a little less alone, consider subscribing for free to get new posts. And if you’d like to support my work (and fuel my writing with some much-needed caffeine ☕), you can click here and BUY ME A COFFEE 🧡—because good stories deserve strong coffee!

Jay Armstrong, The (dis)Abled Writer