So you’re down the pub with a group of friends, chatting away, enjoying a nice drink. The conversation shifts to one of your favourite movies.
Excellent! You’re an expert on this.
One of your buddies says, “What was the name of the actor again, the one that played the evil genius with the fluffy white cat?” You know this one, piece of cake! You go to say the name, but for some reason the words just won’t come out. It’s right on the tip of your tongue, but you just can’t form the words in your mouth. You spend ages racking your brain, trying to think of the name, but the more you think, the further away the words get.
Well this is embarrassing …
Brain fog is a little like this, apart from it’s not just a specific word that you can’t remember, it’s every word. Anything with more than one syllable is just too much.
It’s a feeling that I experience all too often. I go to respond to a simple question, but my mind is empty. It’s like someone has scooped my brain out and replaced it with a balloon. The more I try and force out the words, the further away the balloon floats. This usually ends up with me doing an impression of a nodding dog until the conversation ends.
Foggy days are the worst.
I’m normally a chatty person. Once I start talking, I never stop. But when the fog rolls in I’m about as interesting and chatty as drying paint. These are the days where I’ll have my headphones glued into my ears, music blaring, in the hope that it’ll ward off any potential minglers. The days where I’ll zone out of conversations, only to zone back in right at the end with a confused look on my face.
I worry that the people around me will think I’m being grumpy, that I don’t like their company. So I’ve decided it’s just best to be honest. Tell anyone that has the pleasure of meeting me on these days about my predicament. Just let them know the fogs in, and I’m actually a nice guy really.
It’s not just people that are terrifying on these days. Any obstacle becomes a potential for bumps and scrapes. I’ve walked into doors, windows, even lampposts before! It’s an odd feeling. It’s like your body knows it needs to move, but your brain just can’t tell it to in time.
And forget reading! I could go through paragraphs of text and absorb none of it.
Then there’s the memory problems.
I feel a bit senile sometimes. Events or parties that I had looked forward to for weeks just disappear from my mind. That thing I just put down, 10 minutes later I’ll have completely forgotten where I left it.
With the above in mind, I decided it was about time to invest in a diary! Ok, I didn’t buy an actual diary… but the ‘voice assistant’ on my phone is very attentive and reliable. If something comes up I simply talk to my phone and nicely ask that it adds it into my daily tasks (I might type it in if I’m somewhere public!).
So yes, when you ask me if I can come to your birthday, I will be that guy who responds with, ‘I’ll have to check my diary’. I really do need to.