This here is a short tutorial on what it feels like to be engulfed in fog brain for whatever reason, fatigue, illness, fibromyalgia, depression, etc. Imagine it’s a clear day until your plane is suddenly surrounded by clouds, any view obstructed. Duration unknown, thickness of whiteness varying, and someone else at the controls.
Not all sloth-like people are lazy, choosing to avoid movement and activities. Some are unable to pick up the pace. Here am I today, slow of thought and motion. Even walking is made difficult, punctuated by interjections of “Whoa!” as I pinball from one piece of furniture or a wall to another, balance off kilter. Perhaps if my brain was working at full-speed as I now know it, or even three-quarters, I’d be able to react and compensate for such physical challenges; but with all of me shifted into low-gear, nothing will do but to let time pass until function improves.
Besides nausea, vertigo, and all kinds of pain, fibromyalgia visits upon me this slowness, random in both onset and cessation. Tongue-tied communication makes it incredibly difficult to explain to others how thought and activity are compromised, beyond my control. Feeling bad about this frozenness does nothing to improve the situation, but frustration can’t be avoided, both mine and my husband’s. Expressing myself in writing is a mite easier than verbal, but it also helps that I’m able to pause, think and then continue. When talking, more than a few seconds of searching in my mind for the elusive word or turn of phrase seems to urge my husband to fill in the blank. Trying to undo his idea, meanwhile still attempting to grab words from the tip of my tongue creates chaos in my head. Typically, he offers one thought after another, until I can land on an approximation. Considering in silence leads to a quicker resolution and less brain noise but requires patience on everyone’s part. All I need is quiet and some time.
Best option this day is to release myself from a to-do list. Nothin’ to do about it.
p.s. can’t vouch for proofreading