brain fog & conversation: why i falter
- Feb 1, 2018
- 5 min read
I don’t like talking. There, I said it. I absolutely despise speaking. People are generally surprised when I express that I don’t revel in the spoken word. I’ve been told that I’m good at public speaking, and I typically come across as fairly eloquent and outspoken. I do love words; after all, I am a writer. Words are the fiber of my being. But there's something about the relationship between my heart and my mouth that just won’t click, both literally and figuratively. It’s beyond being introverted, or antisocial, even though I do consider myself both of those things most of the time. At this point in my life, however, my distaste for speech is on a clinical level. Several conditions I have cause something called brain fog, a form of cognitive difficulty that causes problems with a lot of important mental functions. One of those is speech.
There is a certain set of issues that are typically associated with brain fog, or “cog fog” and "attention fatigue” as its also been dubbed. Usually, those with brain fog struggle with poor concentration, weakened short term memory, and difficulty retaining information. Living with this debilitating set of symptoms often feels like somebody is holding your head in a vat of boiling water. Holding a conversation while in such an exhausting state is beyond frustrating. With such a flighty attention span and a very loose grip on what’s happening around you, the line between said & unsaid gets blurred. While talking, I often find myself repeating things, asking others to do so, zoning out, missing details, or even forgetting entire chunks of information. In addition to this, I often lose memory of past discussions, which makes it difficult to “pick up where you left off” with someone. The words of the past are just ghosts to me.
My relationship with stringing words together has grown rocky in and of itself. When this clouding of consciousness gets severe, it feels as though words and phrases get all tangled up in my head. I have trouble finding the right things to say, and when I can put my finger on exactly what I need to come out of my mouth, the opportunity has come and past. It’s as if my mind shuts down when I most need it not to. Imagine if every other time you wanted to tell a friend that you like their new hair cut, or ask your grandmother where she keeps her tea bags, or you had something funny to tell a significant other, your mind just drew a blank. It’s like your cellphone dying when you’re midway through typing a text, except you don’t get to decide when you can charge it up again. You’re just stuck, waiting, with so much to say but no way to say it.
As a result of this radio silence that comes from my skull, I have difficulty when trying to lead conversation. The words simply don’t come to mind fast enough for me to communicate them. Oftentimes, I’ll blank on commonly used words, leaving me with that irking “it’s on the tip of my tongue” feeling. I tend to fill the spaces that makes with flustered what-was-I-going-to-say’s, where-was-I’s, and did-I-say-that-already’s. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t tiring and disheartening. No matter how much I ramble, nothing really stops the disassociation between what I want to say and what I can. That’s a big part why I always find myself with a pen in my hand instead of truths on my lips.
Because brain fog alone isn’t enough of a weight on one’s shoulders, it also interacts quite intricately with other comorbid symptoms. For example, sensory overload is associated with dissociative symptoms like brain fog. Sensory overload is when the brain hyper-focuses on the 5 senses. Every minuscule detail of the world around you is magnified to the point in which one begins to feel ill. A heavy baseline in a rock song sounds like a war zone, and a gentle touch on the arm can feel like a bullet wound. Every feeling is a painful one. This counteracts brain fog. Cognitive fatigue is isolating; sensory overload, however, drags you into the world in the harshest way possible. It’s like being pulled in two opposite directions, neither which is the way you want to travel.
Being struck into silence is frustrating in the moment, but the aftermath can be just as depleting. Brain fog is linked to clinical social anxiety, and I feel as though it also has the potential to exacerbate it. The perpetual state of being tongue tied that comes along with brain fog is sure to make social encounters awkward and tense, hence worsening anxiety. It’s also known to cause irritability, which is obviously understandable. When connecting with people is so challenging, it’s easy to get annoyed by those around you. I know that, when my brain fog is bad, all I want is to be alone.
The desire to run off when things get tricky in my brain is distressing all on its own. Sometimes, all I want is to sit down and have a heart to heart with someone I love. With some people in our lives, conversation has a natural flow. Some things just feel particularly right. But brain fog makes it harder for that to happen. When you’re stumbling on your words, conversation gets choppy, discourse grows unclear, and communication begins to feel artificial. Interpersonal relationships can without a doubt be affected by that.
So, in summary, brain fog can botch a lot of aspects of conversation. But where does it come from, and why? The roots of attention fatigue can range anywhere from the common poor sleep schedule to severe inflammatory disease. Stress and lack of sleep are known to be triggers in the everyday patient. Other causes include (but are not limited to):
-migraines
-hormonal changes (whether minor or more notable, such as hypothyroidism and adrenal insufficiency)
-vitamin deficiencies
-allergies (including mast cell diseases such as MCAS and mastocytosis: anything that has to do with histamine)
-dysautonomia
-fibromyalgia (hence the term “fibro fog”)
-myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome
-MS
-diabetes
-lupus
-rheumatoid arthritis
-Alzheimer’s
-depression
-anxiety disorders (GAD, SAD, PTSD, OCD, etc.)
Since my chronic illnesses made brain fog a daily part of my life, my perspective on social interaction has flipped on its head. Attention fatigue has left me speechless, and it’s important to acknowledge how hard those living with chronic illness have to work just to converse with those around them. To everyone reading this that knows someone who’s been grappling with brain fog; please, be kind, be patient, and be understanding. Don’t guilt the sick people around you if they find it hard to connect. To the disabled people themselves reading this; it’s not your fault. If the people you surround yourself with make you feel as though it is, leave them. Listen to your body and to your mind. There is no shame in slowing down, and there is nothing wrong with silence.
SOURCES:
https://www.healthline.com/health/brain-fog#causes2
http://blog.arthritis.org/rheumatoid-arthritis/rheumatoid-arthritis-brain-fog/
https://draxe.com/brain-fog/

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