Content Warning: Talk of Medical Trauma
A selfie from the waist up of Marcelle, a young Métis woman. She has dark brown hair tied up in a bun and wearing a grey tank top that reads “Never Not Tired” in big bold black letters.
Have you ever walked into a room and forgotten what you went in there for? Was it to grab something, or to do something… whatever it was, poof, it’s just gone, forgotten. It happens to all of us once in a while. Now, imagine this happening all day, and sometimes for days on end. Instead of random blips, it happens often and disrupts your life. Welcome to the elusive symptom known to most as brain fog.
Brain fog has not been traditionally seen as a “real” medical term or symptom in the medical dimension, but that’s changing with advocacy and research, slowly as usual. Clinically speaking it can be classified as a “short-term cognitive impairment,” characterized by confusion, decreased clarity of thought, and forgetfulness.
Good ol’ WebMD says this about it: “It’s a term used for certain symptoms that can affect your ability to think. You may feel confused or disorganized or find it hard to focus or put your thoughts into words.” This simplified definition leaves a lot of room for misinterpretation. This statement defines what is normally felt when anyone is unfocused, but regardless, it falls short of describing the unique experience of true chronic brain fog. It’s understating the real symptom experienced by countless living with chronic health conditions, including those with fatigue-related conditions, depression, or autoimmune/auto-inflammatory conditions. Many other conditions and/or their treatments can cause brain fog as well. So numerous are the causes I could never enumerate them all.
I was reading a book called Cultivating the Doula Heart, Essentials of Compassionate Care, written by Francesca Lynn Arnoldy. In it, the author provides a definition for brain fog that I believe to be the most accurate one I’ve heard of so far, other than the working definition I have going on in my head. Dr. Arnoldy explains brain fog as, “an inability to think clearly, even about one’s basic needs (hydration, nourishment, sleep) and threatens one’s capability to keep up with tasks such as cleaning, bills, and appointments.” Clearly, with this definition, you can see how brain fog can make it difficult to independently navigate the logistics of daily life.
A cartoon image of a brain, with two legs and arms. It has corkscrews eyes and a drooling mouth gaping open. Stars and corkscrews are scattered above the brain.
As Dr. Arnoldy mentioned in the above definition, appointments can be tough when the brain fog hits, especially medical appointments. Due to the medical PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), I’m pretty much guaranteed to have brain fog to a certain degree before and during my medical appointments, because it tends to be worse when I’m stressed. I bring a list of things I need to discuss with the doctor, but often, by the time I’m in there, I’ve forgotten about the list, never mind writing anything down. Then I get home and get frustrated trying to remember what was said and what happened clearly and easily can get down on myself. I know I’m not alone in this, my Mom has similar issues as well. After years of being joshed around by the medical system, it’s hard not to be traumatized and foggy.
What some may not realize, is the brain fog also affects simple stuff like journaling or watching TV. Don’t even get me started about reading—we’ve all been there, reading the same paragraph over and over because our mind is not registering any of it. So I usually end up watching the same television series over and again, like Friends or Seinfeld, because I don’t need a ton of cognitive clarity to keep up with the storyline since I’ve seen it a couple of dozen times. I usually stick to coloring books to keep my hands occupied. With the chronic itch and nervous ticks, my hands need to be doing something.
A selfie of Marcelle, a young Métis woman. She is looking down and faint cloud can be seen in front of her face. She has dark brown hair tied up in a bun and wearing a grey tank top that reads “Never Not Tired” in big bold black letters.
My physiotherapist reminds me that brain fog happens because the brain has too many things to deal with, to regulate, with all the symptoms like pain, dizziness, fatigue, so it becomes a cognitive processing issue. And just like computers, our brains and bodies can only handle so much before pathways start breaking down and energy is safeguarded for the more vital functions. With this understanding, I can now see clearly, such that when I’m in a flare-up and my brain is dealing with more symptoms or more intensity than what is my baseline, so it protectively goes into “brain fog mode.”
Another aspect of all of this is the effect it has on my self-esteem. I’m known to be someone who never falls short of having something to talk about, but keeping up with conversations when the brain fog is bad is real tough, even for me. My people are used to me being in the middle of a sentence, in the middle of a rant even, and completely lose my train of thought. It sucks. It gets to me, and it’s hard to not let it affect me. My confidence takes a major hit and I end up feeling ashamed, ruminating over half-finished conversations, most of which I can’t remember no matter how hard I search my brain.
I haven’t found much in terms of ways to alleviate these symptoms. Psychotherapy is my biggest ally if I’m being honest. Working on being more content with myself and non-judgmentally sit with myself as I am, day by day, slowing down and getting clear on my truth, and not straying too far from it. Meditating helps, but meditating helps everything, let’s be real. In terms of western medicine, I’ve only tried one medication, Modafinil which is a psychostimulant, basically like a less powerful Adderall, and is meant to help with the dreadful fatigue caused by my narcolepsy, but inadvertently it also helps with focus and mental clarity. Unfortunately, it only lasts a few hours and it messes up my appetite. It’s all I have so I deal.
Do you deal with brain fog? What does it feel like for you? How would you explain it?
Do you have any tips to help combat the cloudiness of brain fog?
I’d be dying to hear! So please feel free to comment or reach out—contact me!