Disclaimer: The first part of this post was typed during the most intense brain fog-like experience I’ve ever had (that I can remember!) I felt really ‘dark’ writing it; having read what I typed, there’s nothing I can see that could be triggering but felt a disclaimer was warranted just in case…
The fog sitting heavy on my mind, so dense I can almost see it. My head so full it’s as though it’s seeping through my eyes. I see a mist. Of sorts. A visual representation of the fog as it’s descending.
So much pressure between my eyes, it feels as though the fog may burst through at any moment. Splitting my head… Is this what someone means when they say they have a splitting headache?
Another thought added to the swirling mist before me, melding effortlessly in to the fog behind. Becoming on with the countless other thoughts that creeped in before it.
Yet I sit here, frozen. Unable to focus properly. Even as I write I find myself pausing every few words. The sounds of the keyboard clicking and clacking is enough to distract me from concentration of any kind. I zone out for that moment before visibly shaking my head.
I’m finding it hard to commit to doing anything right now. Something as simple as picking up my water bottle to take a drink because I’m thirsty. I’ve been thinking about doing it for about 20 minutes. That’s when the thirst really kicked in, yet here I sit. Slowly typing (whilst telling the keyboard to shut uppppp) nothing at all but exactly how I’m feeling in this moment.
I want to close my eyes. I want everything to switch off. I want complete silence. Comfort. Sleep. A sleep so deep and wonderful I wake feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world. A sleep so rarely experienced.
I want to relax on the sofa without fidgeting. I want to be able to sit there and not want to be doing something else whilst not knowing what else I even want to do. I’m feeling restless and I don’t like it. It’s too noisy in my head. Any external noises just turn up the volume. Where’s the mute button?
This is the most intense experience I’ve ever had of the dreaded brain fog. It’s really affected me tonight. How I had the presence of mind to write what I’m feeling is beyond me but I’m glad I’ve been able to do it.
There was a 10 minute distraction, readers. A distraction important enough to blow the fog away. A gale of wind so strong I can think a lot more clearly now. The fog has dissipated in to a mist. The thoughts are still there but I can’t quite make them out. That’s better.
I found the mute button!
My cats. Of course it was my cats. They’re one of the most important things in the world to me. Anything to do with them will instantly grab my full attention. A simple scratch at the back door, close to where I sit here typing, brought me back to myself. Out of my head. Knowing they needed me, in that moment, to open the door for them, jolted me in to action. I am their mama, after all!
Now I have one snuggled on my lap (albeit making typing a little bit more tricky, but not impossible) purring intently, gazing up at me every now and again and melting away whatever’s left of the massive anxiety I felt once I’d come out of the brain fog madness described above.
Oh. My. Frickin. God that was awful. I hope that doesn’t happen again! Or at least not that intensely. I think part of me knew I needed to be writing it down so I can explain, in full detail, how it feels to the GP or anyone who doesn’t get what I mean when I say ‘brain fog’. I don’t just mean ‘a bit of confusion’.
Until next time,
KD x