Weather Alert: Brain Fog

Yup. Looks about right.

Like most of us, my mind has weather. Amirite? My moods are “sunny” or “dark.” I rain (even flood) tears; I freeze people out. I’m sometimes long-winded, I can be a tornado of energy. My outlook can be clear or cloudy. This week, though I’ve been fighting it, I am foggy. Brain Fog has seeped into my cranium and taken up residence, and I’m having a hard time getting my bearings. I can only see a few feet ahead of me, and my emergency lights are flashing. I’ve slowed WAY down. Exit and street signs are impossible to read, so I’m going on instinct, feeling my way through my days. Suffice it to say, I cannot concentrate worth a darn right now.

There are understandable reasons for this lack of clarity, but that doesn’t make it any easier to navigate. 

Yes, we are in Month 13 of the Pandemic that Never Ends

Yes, our pastor died last Wednesday afternoon, so sad

Yes, I have precisely 4,123 items on my to-do list FOR THIS WEEK

Yes, I’m only on Number #3 of that list

and 

Yes, I’m 64 years old, and a little haze comes with the territory

I’ve always prided myself on achievement and speed (natural, not chemical) to power through life. While I am no athlete, I do usually move at a brisk pace, often knocking over knick-knacks and small children (sorry, Peter!) as I barrel along. These last several days, though, have been like slogging through molasses mixed with maple syrup mixed with crazy glue…when I’m not completely stuck, I am struggling to move. 

I’ve been sleeping restlessly, my dreams vivid and disconcerting. When I wake up (as I do at annoying intervals throughout the night—thank you, age 64!), I am disoriented for several moments (why am I in bed and not still climbing that icy ladder with the bad guys chasing me?) The rest of the days glide by, blurred at the edges. I feel like Lucille Ball in the movie Mame (if you saw it, the great Lucy insisted on soft-focus to hide her advancing age. When she was in scenes with other actors, it was like someone covered the camera lens with Vaseline when her face was featured).

I hear about the intense brain fog that is one of the lingering symptoms of COVID-19, and I truly empathize with those sufferers (and no, I’m sure I don’t have COVID). All I can do is keep driving down this road, cautiously, making my peace with a slower pace and rather less accomplishment than usual. Our lives, like our bodies, have spells of rough weather, and I think I’m in one now. The clouds will break, the fog will lift, the sun will shine again, eventually. I’ve learned THAT over 64 years.

While I wait, I might try to be patient, for a change. And grateful that, for me, this is a temporary condition. 

But I’d better keep those emergency flashers on, just in case.