Sometimes I have so much to do that I literally don’t know where to start. The brain fog descends and a paralysing inertia grips me. I stare at the long list of tasks in front of me and the urge to bury my head in the sand and do nothing is near overwhelming. It’s daunting, intimidating, and verging on the impossible. It’s at times like this that I need to focus on the next step and nothing else. Never mind the summit of the mountain so many miles away.
I’ve been finding that recently with both my day job writing and creative writing. There are never enough hours in the day and I find myself putting it in the ‘too difficult’ tray, hoping it will sort itself out with a flourish of a magic wand. Of course, when I look again the work is still there, stubbornly staring me in the face with a foul attitude to boot. I’m stretched so thin I sometimes feel like an elastic band about to snap and go flying across the room and out the window, never to be seen again.
It’s easy to lose your bearings when the brain fog comes down. You wander off your chosen path and, before you know it, are stumbling about in ever decreasing circles. Everything is strange and the disassociated feeling as you slowly unravel has an eerie context to it. It’s like watching yourself dither and fall apart from afar. You will your alter ego to snap back into the real world but the grey blanket of confusion reigns supreme, sweeping aside all who dare stray across its path.
At times like this, it’s often because I’ve neglected my medication for a few days. It’s not deliberate, I just tend to overlook the simplest of tasks that takes up about 30 seconds of my day. There’s no excuse for not popping the pill and I think no big idea but, within days, the brain fog has descended and I’m irritable and on edge. I find it difficult to focus on anything. I’m adrift, untethered, flailing in the dark as priorities float by, beyond my desperate grasp.
It’s taken me so long even to string together these few badly written paragraphs. But it’s part of hauling my way back to the surface, a job ticked off the ‘to-do list.’ OCD loves to wreak havoc, ripping to shreds the best made plans. It takes a person to the brink and whispers for them to take that extra step out into the blissful nothingness of the abyss. No more worries then. Embrace the fog, turn your back on responsibility and routine. Never to be seen again.