Some days, the world feels like it’s moving too fast - and I can’t seem to catch up.
Not just physically, but mentally. Emotionally. Spiritually.
There are mornings when my body doesn’t cooperate with my intentions. Evenings where my thoughts move through honey. Afternoons where holding a single conversation feels like lifting bricks. And in between all of that, there’s a fog. A thick, heavy stillness that wraps around everything - thought, motivation, memory, energy.
If you know what I mean, then this space was made for you.
The Fog We Live In
FogLight was born from a need - not for answers, but for company in the fog.
If you live with chronic illness, mental health challenges, or both, you already know how disorienting it is. How hard it is to be understood. How much weight you carry — and how invisible that weight can be.
I live with ME/CFS, a condition that quietly redefined the borders of my energy, my identity, and my relationships. I’m also a mental health professional - an expressive therapist who uses creativity, softness, and trauma-informed practices to help others navigate their emotional world.
But no degree or training prepared me for what it means to grieve the life you used to have, or to feel like you’re constantly falling behind in a world built for people with more stamina, fewer question marks, and a different kind of brain.
Why FogLight?
This is not a place for toxic positivity. This isn’t a hustle-your-way-to-healing blog. This is a soft corner of the internet where we name things as they are:
- The mental toll of being undiagnosed or misdiagnosed
- The grief of missed birthdays, unread books, unanswered texts
- The way depression wraps itself around your bones after one too many flare-ups
- The guilt of resting when the world keeps spinning
- The raw beauty of surviving, slowly, softly, anyway
And yet… even in fog, light still exists.
That’s what FogLight means to me - and maybe to you too. Not blinding, not all-revealing, but just enough light to take one more step. Just enough to say, “I’m still here.” Just enough to make space for you to feel seen.
What You’ll Find Here
This blog will hold space for:
- The emotional reality of chronic illness
- Mental health insights from both lived experience and clinical knowledge
- Creative coping strategies for low-energy days
- Tools for pacing, boundary-setting, self-forgiveness
- Reflections on relationships, identity, grief, and personal growth
- Poetry, essays, and journal prompts for soft self-discovery
Whether you’re newly diagnosed, long undiagnosed, or somewhere in the long, foggy middle - you belong here.
Come As You Are
You don’t need to be productive to matter.
You don’t need to be cured to be worthy.
And you don’t need to explain your pain in order to be believed.
I hope FogLight feels like a deep breath. Like a soft place to land. Like sitting in a quiet room with someone who understands without needing you to perform your pain.
This isn’t a finish line. It’s a waystation - a space for resting, reflecting, and remembering who you are beneath the ache.
Thank you for being here.
Thank you for surviving this far.
I see you - and I’ll meet you in the fog.
With softness,
Gabby
