Where Are the Fog Lights?

For three hours I've been trying to pull my brain together and write about something important. It's not going to happen.

Maybe this is the time to explain brain fog. That's what we call it. If you're chronic you know what I'm talking about. If you're not, well, it's sort of like trying to sing underwater, only it has to do with thinking.

I don't know the physiological reason for brain fog. I know a lot of us have it. People with autoimmune diseases, chemo patients..... chronics.

In a past blog entry I explained how it is when I lose words. When full scale brain fog hits, all intellectual pursuits float in a viscous goo, just out of reach. Not only do I lose words, I lose the part of me that remembers why I wanted the words in the first place. It's an ironic state for me when I have spent my life writing for fun and profit. The only door I've ever known has slammed shut.

People who know that I'm sick but don't quite get it often ask why I don't freelance for magazines or newspapers. Obviously, the people who ask that haven't done it and don't know how much work freelance writing requires. Such effort and work is quite beyond me these days. Even if I could find the words and make the deadline and deliver something vaguely like what was assigned, there would be an even bigger problem.

Brain fog makes me unreliable. Sometimes things that I am absolutely certain I have done have absolutely not been done. Sometimes it's the other way around. And I confuse .... well, everything.

Nobody but my husband knows the depth of my confusion. And even he can't see it all.

Tonight all my traction is gone. I have words, but they won't fit together the right way. The story that needs telling will have to wait for another day. Tonight I will leave the keyboard and go play with my fabric.

Thank God there are so many windows.

Blessings,
Matriarch

Now Where Was I?

The problem with taking on a blog is that sooner or later it will become necessary to show the world (or at least the half dozen or so folks who have managed to find the blog) why you don't write for a living any more. I'm at a loss for words.



Literally. For the past two days I haven't been able to process language well.



One of the first symptoms to show it's nasty little face when I became aware of my illness was an increasing inability to write. I couldn't keep track of thoughts, ideas, conversations, assignments. And I couldn't think of words.



I was scared at first that I was developing early onset Alzheimers'. The words just would leave me, sometimes with my mouth open. All dressed up and nowhere to go, so to speak. Early on I found a way to gauge my days. If I could do a simple crossword puzzle early in the day, it was going to be a decent day. If I looked at the crossword puzzle page and couldn't make sense of the instructions or the clue words, well, sometimes I just went back to bed.



I have been reduced at times to wringing my hands, gritting my teeth and managing to choke out "the stuff....the red stuff.....the red stuff that's for french fries."



My husband and sons are used to it. They pretty much know what I'm talking about, even when I don't talk. But the rest of the world doesn't quite get it.



Frustration overwhelms me at times.



This is one of those times. I have a lovely blog entry in my head. It's all about ......something or other. But I just don't have whatever it is that makes me able to get words out of my head, push them down my arms and squeeze them through my fingers onto the keyboard.



For the record, it would have been witty, somewhat amusing and a bit informative. Really good stuff.



As it is, all you get tonight is the sad tale of a boring symptom of an autoimmune disease called Sjogren's Syndrome. Or maybe it's Lupus. Or vasculitis. Or fibromyalgia. Or a result of the migraine I had this morning. Or could be high blood pressure. Some people I know would say it's because of the medications I take. Never mind that the brain ooze started long before the first dose of anything. Regardless of which disease snatched my words, they're gone, and I'm muddle brained and thick headed and generally pretty foggy.



So check back tomorrow. The words will return. Always have so far.



And if you are chronic and you are also searching vainly for your lost words, don't worry. They're probably off playing with mine.



Peace be with you.