Brain Fog

Over a decade ago, during an extra-stressful year and for about a year following, my brain did not function properly. I would mess up the most simple tasks with no lack of effort. I would check my schedule, double-check, triple-check, and still somehow end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. I would check my work, double-check, triple-check, and still miss mistakes that my normally detail-oriented self should have caught the first time. I felt so out of control, like some drunken imbecile was inhabiting my body and making me do stupid things. My bosses both of these years had to talk to me about my performance and I just sat there with no explanation, not understanding it myself. It was so frustrating and confusing.

According to The Trauma Practice, brain fog can manifest as...

• Feeling like your head is cloudy or foggy
• A general lack of mental clarity
• Tired eyes
• A sense of detachment from what is going on in the present moment
• You might feel emotional quickly
• You may feel like you have to work really hard to process everyday tasks or think of a simple plan in relation to everyday life.
• Have difficulty concentrating on the task in hand
• You feel as if your mind constantly wonders making it difficult to concentrate or focus on what you are doing.
• You might be forgetful regarding simple tasks like taking your keys with you when you go out
• You might feel chronically fatigued a lot of the time even if you have had a reasonable night’s sleep.

I regularly experience 10/10 of these. My brain is better now than it was back then, but I've noticed that when I, for example, send an email, I quadruple-check every single detail to make sure I'm not making some obvious mistake like failing to attach the attachment, because I don't trust my brain anymore.

There are studies about the effects of traumatic stress on the brain, but frankly I have too much brain fog to sift through them. In my case it's probably due to actual sleep deprivation, though. I believe sleep deprivation is especially affecting my short term memory lately, but that's a topic for another time...

WWCPTSDD?

It seems like managing my symptoms has become my entire life. Everything I do, I run it by CPTSD first. What would CPTSD have me do in this situation? 

It might look like I'm just living life like everyone else. But every decision I make, I'm thinking about how it will affect my health. If I stay home from a party, it's because I'm too tired or depressed to be social. If I attend, it's because I know it would be good for me to be social. If I decline drinking alcohol, it's because I'm committed to rigid sleep hygiene rules, but if I have a drink, it's in hopes of reducing stress. 

Sometimes the things I do for health are fun, like dance class. But it has to kill two birds with one stone or it's not worth it. If something fun will be mainly detrimental to my health, that's not the kind of fun I can have. Junk food is usually out because nutrition is one area of my health I can actually (sort of) control. Things like travel, spontaneous plans, and loud parties can are often too stressful to be worth any benefits they offer.

Of course, this is somewhat true for everyone: We all make decisions based on what we think will be best for us. It would just be nice to get off the bottom rungs of the hierarchy of needs more than occasionally.

INTP vs CPTSD

I have often found myself wondering whether this or that behavior of mine was just my personality or a symptom of CPTSD. But it's both. CPTSD affects everyone differently. It brings out the worst in your natural characteristics. So if you are naturally shy, you might become overly withdrawn. If you are naturally aggressive, you might become controlling.

But then there are things about CPTSD that are so opposite from my personality. I'm not very emotional personality-wise, but then I have these crazy mood swings that I desperately try to reason myself out of.

I'm pretty low-maintenance according to my personality, but CPTSD is a terribly high-maintenance disorder. This has gotten me into trouble because I tend to, for example, move across the country or out of the country somewhat spontaneously, figuring it'll all work out. I don't mind uncertainty, but CPTSD does not like uncertainty at all. Or I'll work a long day and not take enough breaks. Bad idea with CPTSD. So I've had to become this really annoying person who needs to know what the plans are exactly, and I need to be back by nine so I can do my sleep routine so I can function tomorrow. It's like I'm two different people in one.

So I don't blame people when they can't handle being my friend anymore. I have friends with mental disorders that I limit contact with because I can't handle their symptoms for the sake of my own mental health, or simply because their symptoms make them not fun to be with. It sucks. But I get it.

Work

Since I'm lucky enough to have some flexibility in my work schedule, I have purposely arranged to not begin work until late morning -- but I'm still late to work almost every day. This is a typical day for me: I wake up exhausted, lethargically get ready, and struggle to focus all day while pretending I feel better than I do and trying not to murder anyone or jump every time the phone rings. Then I come home and have to lie down.

Managing my health is a job in itself, but since I'm still able to hold down a job, I won't qualify for disability. People like me fall through the cracks because we're too high-functioning to get help but not functioning enough for gainful employment. Instead, I force myself to work thirty hours a week to keep my benefits (and some semblance of a sufficient income), because even when I haven't slept at all, I am somehow able to function satisfactorily enough to not get fired yet. I say "yet" because I'm rather overdue. I have been at my current job for almost three years, which is twice as long as I've lasted anywhere else. The flexible hours are a big part of why I've lasted so long, but it seems to just slow the inevitable -- I'm counting down the days until I burn out. But what scares me more than losing my job is the prospect of continuing to function just well enough to be a mediocre, miserable employee for years to come.

Thankfully my supervisor is very understanding, and even now I could theoretically work anywhere between twenty and forty hours, depending on my needs. But the needs are too many. How can I survive (financially) on twenty hours? And how can I survive (physically) on forty? So I compromise with just enough money to get by and just enough energy to keep going, which is not much of a solution.

My previous pattern was to move somewhere far away every year or so, which afforded me a little "vacation" of unemployment until I found another job that would eventually burn me out. I have no desire to return to that pattern, but I also have no desire to spend all my PTO on a health staycation as a last-ditch effort to keep my job, so I have to get better. I am going to a new holistic medical center in a couple of weeks, so hopefully they will be able to help me.

Emergency Preparedness

With all the disasters and violence the world keeps having, I keep hearing about emergency preparedness. But I have no use for that. I've been too busy surviving from day to day to make survival plans for some hypothetical situation. Besides, catastrophes provide opportunities for death, which would be a relief. And anyway, as much as it would probably compound my already complex PTSD if I survived it, a catastrophe sounds preferable to regular life.

When people talk fearfully about the big earthquake we're supposed to have, my main emotion is excited anticipation. What am I, some kind of sicko? And it's not like I really want that to happen. But if there's a natural disaster, violent actor, terrorist attack, etc., at least in that moment, I would just be in survival mode, and that's it. I wouldn't be in survival mode AND expected to show up for work and maintain relationships and try to act normal at the same time, which is thoroughly exhausting. My body wouldn't be trying to save me while my mind is trying to go about daily living.

It sounds so wonderfully simple to have my only goal be staying alive. (And in fact I have experienced this magical laser-sharp focus in a recent near-collision, feeling no fear in the moment because finally this was a situation I knew how to handle. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's staying alive. It's all the moments before the storm that are terrifyingly, unconvincingly calm.) If I really were in an emergency, then my body and reality would match again. And if I can't convince my body to match reality, the next best thing is for reality to match my body. Besides, being alive and committing suicide are both unpalatable to me, so death by accident would be a very convenient way to get out of both of those unpleasantries.

I know it probably wouldn't really be a good thing, but regardless, disaster preparedness is just not a priority. There is no future when it's all your mind can do to deal with the present and your body is stuck in the past.

Welcome to My World

Every time there's a natural disaster or mass shooting or other terrible tragedy, I feel almost desensitized to it. Not really desensitized; it's more that I'm hyper-aware of every single danger in everyday life, so when something really bad happens it doesn't shock me like it seems to do to other people -- it's exactly what I'm expecting every day. I'm more surprised when bad things don't happen, and I always feel like I've only barely escaped them and there's still tomorrow and there is no safety.

In fact, in times of tragedy, I feel a sense of relief or... like the universe is finally aligned to my experience of reality because now everyone else feels how I feel every day, notices what I notice every day, is sobered into awareness like I am all the time... every time the sun forces its blinding light into my eyes without my consent, every time the phone screams at me its sudden demands. Those everyday things put me on high alert already.

CPTSD can change sufferers' worldviews so that they expect hostility even when it makes no sense. Sometimes I find my mouth offering profuse apologies over trivial matters (things that don't require apologies, things that I'm not even responsible for, etc.) because I expect that I have to appease seemingly kind and reasonable people before they randomly and abruptly turn on me. I'm surprised when everyone I meet doesn't turn out to be a mass shooter.

Why I Hate Jenga

I used to enjoy the game, back when it was just a game. Carefully pulling out a wooden block from a tower of wooden blocks and placing it on the top, trying to build it as high as you can while it becomes proportionately more unstable, eventually toppling over. Now they even have -- I'm not sure what to call it... My Size Jenga? -- that's as big as you are. Ha. I'll show you life-size Jenga...

I'm already sleep-deprived, but if I take out the medication block, will tomorrow morning build my tower higher -- or destroy it? And which block should I choose -- the pill that frequently doesn't work, or the one that reliably works too well? Now I overslept; should I knock out the breakfast block in order to make it on time to work? Of course it would be safer to sacrifice the doing-my-hair-and-makeup block... except that my looks are the only part of my tower that is still relatively stable. Can I really bear to poke holes in the entire thing? Do I really want to build a tower to the sky if that tower is entirely frail?

Should I pull out the block of dignity and reach out to a friend during a flashback? It might build the tower of friendship, but will that friendship go toppling over when I really need them? And which side should I pull from -- the old friends who are probably tired of dealing with my same old issues, or the new friends who might be weirded out? What can I afford? What is going to get the best ROI?

Do I pull the block of stability out of my current living arrangement (renting a cheap room) and place it on the tower of mental clarity that the peace of my own place would afford me? Because the last two times I tried that, it came crashing down and I had to start over. Do I work thirty hours just to get benefits, even though it would be healthier for me to work about twenty? Do I push it to forty and sacrifice the block of health to build the career tower? Because just about every time I've tried that, it all comes tumbling down. No matter what I choose, I'm in a precarious position and my life is perpetually on the verge of ruin...

I used to be a believer in Spoon Theory, but I think this "Jenga Theory" is rather more accurate for me. Spoon Theory does a good job at showing how there are never enough resources, but Spoon Theory doesn't depict the risks involved with choosing one spoon over another, nor the consequences of making the wrong choice. My life coping strategy is similar to my survival strategy when I was in graduate school: Eat on Mon/Wed/Fri, sleep on Tue/Thu/Sat, breathe on Sunday. I try to balance what I'm sacrificing so that it's not always the same area suffering. But something always suffers, always.