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The Brain Fog Rolls In

Yesterday, as I prepared to take a shower – yes, I have to prepare to take showers now and I know that there are many people who can identify with this – I realized that the harder hit I am by something the longer it takes me to share it with the people in my life or write about in my journal, or here. I had to think about that for a bit. What is it that is blocking me from opening up about things, even in this anonymous setting?

The answer is nothing. The delays are cognitive.

I’ve always been a thinker, but I believe I am truly suffering from what I keep seeing referred to as ‘brain fog’. It’s taking me longer to process things emotionally and intellectually. I’m used to emotional delays because I tend to compartmentalize my feelings to deal with them when it feels safe or when I’m forced to because anxiety gets the best of me and I have to unpack some of my baggage. However, I’m usually pretty good at sifting through logical puzzles by taking information in, synthesizing it and then applying it in relevant situations.

But not now. Not since my illness arrived.

Now my concentration is spotty. I will have the intention to talk to someone about something significant that happened in my day then that conversation won’t happen. Because I don’t remember or I’m too overwhelmed by emotion not to cry. I will have the intention to write about an experience then that writing won’t happen. Because the words needed to articulate the tale don’t show up or come in such a rush they get jumbled. I will have the intention to journal to sort through the mental and emotional tangle but that detangling won’t happen. Because the effort to put pencil to paper or fingers to keyboard feels too great.

Those few moments of introspection made me see that I’ve been looking for a defect in myself where there isn’t one. My thoughts and emotions are out of whack because of my pain and the pain medications I take to manage it. Intellectually I know this, but in the moment when something goes askew I forget and I beat myself up about what I should have done and question why I didn’t when the answer is obvious. I don’t do or remember to do because my brain is submerged in a soupy fog for many hours of each day.

I read about this same experience in the lives of others daily. I have great compassion for each person who shares their struggle. Now I have to be compassionate with myself.

 

Train – When the Fog Rolls In (California 37)

Everyone Is Faking It

I talk a lot about the fog my pain medications create around my brain and how difficult it can sometimes be to remember or find words to express myself. But my pain medications have also had an oddly positive effect on my awareness of the world around me. I seem to be getting better at seeing people. By seeing I don’t mean I don’t have to wear my glasses. I mean I can see into them: their vulnerabilities, their resistance and their fears. I’ve joked to a close friend that when I get better I might have to figure out a way to continue getting refills for these brightly coloured perception pills.

It’s been happening like this. Every day I watch – but mostly listen to – the people in my life faking feelings they don’t have or suppressing the ones they do have. They feign love for their spouses or significant others when all things about that person makes them cringe or often deliberate disengaging from committed life. They pretend to get excited by work that leaves them dangling partially comatose on wobbly swivel desk chairs. They groan about dragging their asses out of bed in dim morning light to care for children they never wanted. They engage in carnal play to avoid mind numbing conversations about where to take the next vacation or what colour to paint the front hall while visualizing distant objects of desire. And worst of all, some are trapped living a life lie because to live freely as who they truly are would see them disavowed from their bloodlines.

They fake their way through whatever ‘it’ is to fool anyone looking to closely into believing they are happy. It seems that the longer my illness hangs around the deeper I’m able to see into people. It’s as if they feel safe being vulnerable with me because I’m in a weakened physical state. Perhaps they think my mind is so scrambled by the pain medications I can’t or won’t remember their hesitations before they assume a perfectly light-hearted tone or the way their voices trail off without completely answering a question about the supposed important things or people in their lives. It’s possible they think I don’t recognize the longing in the too long pauses. Or maybe it’s just a relief for them not to have to pretend with someone just for a moment and they hope it goes unnoticed.

Whatever the reason, they are faking it. At first I thought it was me. That I was being too sensitive and looking for things that aren’t really there. But the more I listen the more I hear the discontent and longing for something, someone or someplace different; and I want to tell them all to run. Run fast. Run far. Run to that other existence they believe they can have.

But I know that’s not fair or the right thing to do. I don’t have the right to tell anyone to run away from the thing(s) making them unhappy. Especially when I can’t guarantee they will find better things or any happiness at all.

Besides it would be hypocritical of me to tell anyone to stop faking anything when I walk around trying to fake not feeling pain.

 

Freddie Mercury – The Great Pretender

My Horrible Boss Is a Terrible Pain

The day I called in sick almost two years ago my horrible boss set in motion what has become a nightmare with no end in sight. She came to the hospital to see me even though I made it clear that I did not need her there. During the uncomfortably long visit – it should be noted that she brought one of my co-workers with her – I was lying in the hospital bed in nothing but a gown and feeling incredible pain. My pain was being managed by Oxycodone so I had to fight very hard to concentrate to not let down my defences or my inhibitions, and not reveal any personal information while the pain boiled in my abdomen. With my co-worker present my horrible boss asked me embarrassingly personal questions trying to uncover information to which she had no legal right. She continued to invade my personal life after the visit with daily phone calls asking questions about my symptoms and diagnosis.

Weeks later when it was clear that I was too sick to return to work and needed to take a sick leave, she delayed starting the process for my short-term disability benefits. Under the fog of pain medications and in indescribable pain, I had to start the process myself. First I had to investigate what benefits I qualified for and then submit the paperwork. While I waited for approval of these benefits, my horrible boss decided not to pay me my salary. Imagine my shock when I checked my bank balance and found no new funds. That was the last straw for me. Naively, I filed a formal complaint against her for this behaviour that any reasonable person would agree was reprehensible.

Unfortunately for me, the people to whom I filed my complaint didn’t see it that way. Whether it was down to self-preservation or blind loyalty, the investigation was turned on its head and they started to dig into my life. How sick was I really? Could my doctor provide information to substantiate the need for my sick leave? Could my doctor pinpoint the date when I would return to work? What accommodations or modifications of my duties would they have to make for me when I returned to work? It was only when these questions were answered they started to investigate my complaint against my horrible boss – that was three months after I filed it. And what they characterised as an investigation predictably ended with my horrible boss receiving a slap on the wrist.

I’m venting about this today because I had to engage with this situation again. I had to contact my lawyer. My horrible boss terminated my employment a few months ago without notifying me and she and the powers that be are refusing to reverse the decision. I’ve been trying to figure out which legal route to take to bring this situation to closure. I need to do the thing that will have the least harmful effect on my health but will have consequences that are enforceable for my horrible boss.

Sadly, every time I have to think about this or actively do something it makes me feel a higher level of pain and my entire body feels overwhelmed. I can’t figure out how to process this situation in a way that makes it ok. How is it right for anyone to treat another human being this way? How can it be right for an employer to act so violently against a sick employee? How can it be right for an employer to take away the very things an employee needs to take care of their health and recover so they can return to work? How can it be right that someone living with debilitating pain should have added layers of trauma piled on them by their employer when they are most vulnerable?

I want this stress eliminated from my life.

 

Maroon 5 – Misery