Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on vacant.
I vowed to see and protect my light this year.
I vowed to remember who I was, what I was proud of, what I needed to feel like me.
I vowed to protect it.
And then my light kept getting blown out. And each time I worked to re-light it, it was snuffed once again.
And then, I saw how vacant my eyes were, how I became a shell of myself.
And I stayed there.
I lived there.
In a place of no light, no love, no me.
I was vacant.
Vacant of emotions.
Vacant of care.
Vacant of worth, self-worth.
But then, slowly, gradually, the physical pain I was feeling started to disappear.
Slowly, gradually, my pain level reached a 4 instead of a constant 8, and I could once again hear my thoughts.
I could once again shower myself, dress myself, and a small flicker of light started to make its way back in.
Slowly, gradually, I started to be able to move my body again.
Slowly, gradually, I started to find me in the fog again.
I will not allow 2025 to take all of me away with it.
I am the only one that can fight for my light, my love, my heart.
