Voice Notes and Sunrises: How I Blog from My Car with Chronic Illness
Sometimes my best blog posts come from the front seat of my car, voice recorder on, sun rising in the distance. Living with MS means adapting—and for me, that means blogging with my voice and a whole lot of gratitude. However you share your story, just know: it matters.
Most mornings, my blog starts in the front seat of my car. I’ve got seven minutes to the gym, the sunrise is doing something magical over the horizon, and my phone is recording my voice as I talk out my thoughts. It’s not fancy, but it works. And when you live with a chronic illness like I do, finding what works—and sticking with it—is everything.
I don’t always have the energy or ability to type out full blog posts. My hand gives out. My brain gets foggy. But the thoughts? They’re still there. Loud, fast, and overflowing. So instead of fighting with my body, I speak. I let the words come out however they want, and later, I clean them up. ChatGPT helps me shape them into something cohesive—sometimes I scratch ideas, sometimes I go in a totally different direction. But it all starts the same way: with my voice and my sunrise.
This morning, I walked out of my garage and was hit by that golden light, and I just stood there for a second. The fact that I was even there to witness it felt like a gift. So many things had to go right: my body had to wake up, my legs had to get me to the car, my eyes had to be able to see, and I had to be in just the right spot on this planet to catch that moment. That’s not lost on me.
Gratitude is the first thing I lean into every morning. Before anything else—before the noise, before the tasks—I take a moment to just be. I listen to meditations on gratitude, visualization, even prayer. Some mornings I color, and that’s a meditation in itself. These routines get me out of my head and into my heart. And from there, the creativity flows.
I know there are others like me—people with chronic illnesses who want to share, create, connect, but who might not be able to write in the traditional sense. And I just want to say: your story matters. How you tell it doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s. If talking into your phone while driving to the gym is what works, do that. If AI helps you organize your thoughts into something meaningful, use it. There’s no wrong way to share your truth.
For me, blogging this way isn’t a hack. It’s a lifeline. It helps me reflect, process, and maybe—just maybe—inspire someone else to keep going.
