HeyJaredJay Armstrong, The (dis)Abled Writer
Stories about resilience, disability, fatherhood, and the ordinary courage of showing up.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 12
- Latest publication
- Sep 27, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 23, 2026
Latest issues
September is the Cruelest Month (opens the original)
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I recently received a message from someone who said my writing has gotten better lately. They said I had hit some nerves they didn’t know they had. Then they encouraged me to keep up the good work.I replied humbly. I thanked them for reading and supporting my writing. I told them I was working hard to articulate things other people sometimes have difficulty putting into words.All of that is true.But if my writing has gotten better lately, I think I know why. The demons in my head have gotten lou
Write From My Knees (opens the original)
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My dad taught me to lift from my knees.My writing teacher taught me to write from my knees.My boxing instructor taught me to keep my knees soft.Good knees built the Pyramids in Egypt and the Eiffel Tower and the Golden Gate Bridge. Good knees were required to traverse the Oregon Trail and dig the Panama Canal and storm the beaches of Normandy.Human existence, for better or worse, was always built on the backs, and good knees, of man.<a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" href="https://subs
What Do You Do When There’s No Going Back? (opens the original)
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“What does ‘burn the boats’ mean?” my dad asked as we watched the Phillies game on Labor Day Eve at our family’s home down at the New Jersey shore.<img alt="" class="sizing-normal" height="808" src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s
Why I Still Celebrate My Worst Day (opens the original)
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I never thought a picture could change my life.But on September 4, 2013, an MRI picture showed that my cerebellum was rotting like an old peach.A few days later, a neurologist who looked a lot like musician Paul Simon studied the photo and diagnosed me with cerebellar atrophy. An incuarble, progressive disease that is physically and emotionally devestating. …In 2020, Pat from my support group described it as the casserole of brain diseases: a pinch of ALS, a hint of Parkinson’s, a sprig of MS, a
The Story at My Feet (opens the original)
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Sometimes you need to let go of the story that’s in your head and embrace the story that’s at your feet.A few days before, my wife proposed one final summer family trip.“Just the five of us before Haley goes to college.”My first thought was no. I mean, it sounded nice. A day at the beach. Just us. Before summer ended. Before everyone got another year older. And going was probably the responsible, dad-thing to do. But I’m disabled. The beach and my body don’t get along. I can’t go.“Sir, do you wa
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