Life with Multiple Sclerosis: How I Live Alone in Belgorod

I used to see a wheelchair as a life sentence. Now I see it as a way out of the situation I found myself in. Without it, I would just sit at home. With it, I move around, work, and live the way I want. I have an attachment for my wheelchair that has significantly expanded my possibilities and lets me go farther.

I live alone and I work. That’s important to me: work gives me a sense of support and independence. Belgorod turned out to be a very convenient city for getting around in a wheelchair. It’s fairly easy to travel around it on my own, without anyone’s help. My home is also accessible and well-suited for living with a disability. The conditions around a person decide a great deal, and I’ve been lucky here.

I love going to the gym and working out. Physical activity is one of the best-confirmed supportive measures for multiple sclerosis. But for me it’s not just about the evidence: after the gym I feel stronger, not simply like a “patient.”

The Man Who Wasn’t Broken by Severe Disability

There are people whom life tests so harshly that many never get back up. And there are those who go through it all — and become even stronger, brighter, and… full of life 🔥

My old friend is one of those people.

He lives in Sochi ☀️ A city of sun, sea, mountains… and that constant feeling that you’re already halfway on vacation, even if you just stepped out for bread. The perfect place for a person who loves life in all its forms, especially the extreme ones. While others relax on the beach, he’s chasing adrenaline: the sea, the mountains, speed, movement. Extreme for him isn’t just a hobby — it’s a way to feel truly alive 💪

But the path to this freedom wasn’t easy. Once, a severe disability took him out of normal life for a long time. Years of being stuck at home, fighting his own body and circumstances. Many would have broken. He didn’t.

Instead of giving up, he started recovering. And not just for himself. Today he has a website dedicated to neurorehabilitation. He shares his experience, knowledge, and that inner fire that helped him rise. Because he knows: if he managed to do it — others can too ❤️

Restarting my Instagram

Two years ago, I lost my old phone number. Along with it, I lost access to my Instagram. I won't pretend it was a tragedy — more of an annoying technical hiccup that sat somewhere on my to-do list for an unreasonably long time.

For those two years, I wasn't exactly procrastinating. Life was just busy — events, projects, everything I usually write about here: neural trauma, neurodegenerative diseases, network technologies — took up far more of my attention than social media. And honestly, I wasn't even sure I needed this restart. I don't plan on posting much anyway.

But time passed, things settled down a bit, and I thought — why not. Recovering the old account didn't work out: the number is gone for good, and access along with it. So there's going to be a new Instagram, starting from a clean slate.

Since I'm already talking about time and priorities, I want to be honest about the blog itself too. I deeply value everyone who reads me here — everyone who takes the time to dig into neural trauma or network technology alongside me. But I don't make much from it, if anything at all. So for me it's more of a hobby than a job, which means I sometimes let myself slow down, without beating myself up over the gaps or chasing a posting schedule at any cost.

Life in Belgorod – Science and Everyday Life

I have long wanted to write about life in Belgorod. At the same time, I deliberately try to avoid details about military actions and the difficulties associated with them. I believe it is inhumane to keep describing how people destroy one another. There is already more than enough of that kind of content online.

Nevertheless, it seems impossible to completely avoid the topic. Drones fly over the city quite often. You can hear the air-raid alerts, the work of air-defence systems, and the sounds of them being shot down. I have never actually seen a flying drone myself — and, frankly, that is probably for the best.

Over the past year life in the city has become noticeably more tense. The conflict is escalating and expanding, and I strongly dislike that. I believe it must be stopped: too many people are dying and suffering. I see no other way out except a freeze. Most likely this will happen this year or next. How we will live after that is another question entirely.

I find it especially painful to watch what is happening because I am a carrier of three cultures at once. I speak English fluently and have even been teaching a foreign language a little lately. At the same time I belong to Russian culture and come from the Komi Republic; by nationality I am Komi. This combination leaves me with complex, far from the brightest feelings about the conflict.

Klark Teknik CT-1 + Fifine: How I Built Decent Sound Without an Expensive Audio Interface

I struggled for a long time. A very long time. First I tried writing and recording on whatever I already had. Then I tried squeezing the maximum out of old microphones. Then I watched reviews, calculated the money, doubted, calculated again. And in the end I finally decided: enough. I need a more-or-less decent setup that will properly capture my voice.

The choice fell on the Fifine combo (microphone + mixer) and the Klark Teknik Mic Booster CT-1.

Why exactly this

A lot of people immediately advise: “Just get a proper external audio interface.” I thought about that for a long time and came to the conclusion that for my tasks it’s largely pointless. I don’t need studio monitoring, a bunch of inputs, MIDI, or expensive preamps. I just need to record speech properly. And I had a very specific problem with that.

Studio dynamic microphones (and many “budget studio” ones too) are fairly quiet. And my voice itself is quiet and bass-heavy. So even on a relatively good mic I had to crank the gain very high, and the noise came up with it. The sound ended up either quiet or noisy.

Accepting reality as it is

I thought for a long time about whether it was even worth writing this article. Whether it was worth putting my personal life on public display. To be honest, there aren't that many events. But they do exist. At some point, I realized: if I don't write it now, I most likely never will. So here it is.

I've understood for a while now that my recovery has turned out to be incomplete. This needs to be acknowledged directly. There is no neurodegeneration as such, and in that sense, the idea of broader exercises still makes sense. Multiple sclerosis doesn't so much knock out strength as it affects the "width of the controller." But even this acknowledgment doesn't make the situation any easier.

My life goes on. Two years ago, I moved to Belgorod. Recently, I even made a short video report — I posted it on YouTube. If you're interested in seeing how I live now, feel free to subscribe to the channel. I often talk there about neural network technologies and how they're changing life.

About the project, life, and the idea of the application

I’ll say it honestly right away: there won’t be large series of posts here or attempts to turn all of this into some kind of large-scale public project. Rather, this is simply a recording of the process — of how everything is developing inside me and around me.

Life right now is quite simple and clear: work, fundamental science, and sometimes applied things that I do more “out of interest” than out of necessity. Everything else is an additional layer that exists in parallel.

I have already written a book. It did not become something widely known or massively discussed, and probably that is exactly why there is no particular desire now to ramp all of this up to large volumes of content. Not because there are no ideas — there are. It’s just that there is no feeling that this necessarily has to turn into something big.

About the idea of the application itself

To put it simply, the idea of the application is connected with what I call generalization.

The human central nervous system is not just a set of wires along which signals run. It is a much more complex structure in which information is not only transmitted, but also constantly processed.

As the signals rise higher — toward the brain — the system becomes more and more branched. It ceases to be linear. It begins to “think” inside itself, even at the level of simple reflexes.

And this property — nonlinearity — seems key to me.