Fibro-brain is like having Alzheimer’s with a touch of ADD and the effects of having had a few bong hits, without ever actually getting high. I can’t remember what I was just doing or anything that used to matter to me or others; I get so side tracked by so many different things, that I interrupt my own intentions and progress with the, “oh look, it’s shiny,” syndrome; and my actual thought to response time feels normal, but is so sluggish to those around me that it seems as though I’m ignoring them or I’m laughing at the joke told five minutes ago…awkward!
Today, I have tried to reply to a very nice comment to my insanely long Progress Report from a couple of days ago. Three different times, I tried to post a reply. Each time some kind of fibro moment contributed to it failing. The most recent one was because I got a text from someone, which needed a timely response, and before I could respond I needed to do some quick research. I forgot to open a new tab and instead just did a search from the browser I was on. 20 minutes later, I remembered that I forgot to finish the reply, only to discover it was completely gone, again.
I’m sure this kind of thing happens to people without fibromyalgia, occasionally. For me, it is a continual series of events on a daily basis. This particular episode may not affect my relationship with the person who posted the comment, other than to possibly send the message that her comment is of little interest to me and she may not feel inclined to comment again in the future. Which could then lead to the loss of a potentially interesting online friendship. That would be sad, but it is something that happens all the time to a lot of people. However, when that same kind of thing occurs within the context of daily living and interaction with people I love and care about and people I truly want to build relationships with, it creates an invisible barrier between me and them.
When these cognitive deficits of fibromyalgia rear up, I present as scatter-brained, self-absorbed, uncaring, and disconnected. When you factor in the fatigue and pain, I appear as a lazy, lump of a brain-dead t.v. junkie.
The good news is that I’m learning to accept myself and be ok with how it looks to others…or rather I’m learning that it’s possible to accept myself and be ok with how it looks to others. As long as I’m willing to keep trying to be me and not just be fibromyalgia.