Aphasia vs. Brain Fog: A Clarification
@swooning-sofa. I decided to do a whole post on this, so it's easier to understand. It's hard to explain in a Tumblr comment. /gen /info
My aphasia came from a drowning incident. Because of that lack of oxygen, parts of my brain that handle the "encoding" and "decoding" of language were physically altered. It is an acquired brain injury (ABI). /info
The "Intelligence" Myth & the "Stupidity" Label
I want to address what you said about defining the inability to do things as "stupidity." /gen I understand why that label feels like it fits when you’ve lost a capability you used to have, especially when society ties "smartness" to how fast or "fluently" you perform. But I absolutely reject that label for myself, and I want to offer you a different perspective. /pos /support So, take it for what you will.
I am still just as intelligent as I was before the drowning. I can "feel" the answers in my head. I know exactly what I want to say—the concept is vivid, sharp, and clear—but the bridge between my thought and the word is broken.
The Metaphor: Imagine knowing exactly what a key looks like, but the door is locked and the key you need is missing. That is aphasia. The "room" (my mind) is still full of all the same furniture and knowledge; I just can't get the door open to show anyone else. /ref
The "Continuum" of Brain Fog
And here is where it gets really strange. I understand why it feels like a continuum, but for me, it’s more like two different layers of difficulty stacked on top of each other. /info
As I said, my aphasia is structural. It’s a permanent change to my brain's "road map." But I am also dealing with a severe Vitamin D deficiency (9ng/mL when the normal range is 30ng/mL), which creates a constant, heavy brain fog. Here is how I distinguish the two:
Brain Fog is the "Dullness": When my Vit D hits a low point, it feels like I’m being pulled under. My mind feels heavy and slow, as if the battery is at 1%. It’s a systemic "power failure."
Aphasia is the "Darkened Closet": On days when I don't have as much fog (thanks to supplements), it’s still not "normal" fluency. It’s more like searching for a specific word in a darkened closet. I know the word is in there—I can practically touch it—but I can't see it well enough to grab it. /ref /gen
The Fog is the Weight: The exhaustion acts like a heavy weight I’m carrying while trying to find those words. When I am depleted, my brain doesn’t have the "fuel" to navigate the detours my aphasia requires. It’s likely similar to how you feel when your system is low from Long Covid. /lh /sym
One absolutely affects the other. When the brain fog is thick, my aphasia becomes significantly more difficult to manage. It’s like trying to solve a complex puzzle (the aphasia) while someone is slowly turning off the lights and making the room colder at the same time (the exhaustion / brain fog). /ref
Why the Distinction Matters
It is important to realize that my aphasia isn't just "being tired." It is a specific neurological barrier. When you see me struggling to write, it’s not because my intelligence has dipped or because I’m "not trying." It’s because my brain is working overtime to bypass a physical injury while simultaneously fighting the physical drain of deficiency and exhaustion. /gen /statement
If I seem blunt or if my writing takes forever, it’s because I am doing the manual labor of clearing the fog and rebuilding the language bridges at the same time. Does this make sense, since I'm running at about a 45% battery right now.
@swooning-sofa, I’m really glad you asked and please don't apologize for "rambling"! /pos Even with the brain fog and the word-finding struggles we both deal with, I understood your question perfectly. /gen
I appreciate you holding space for me to explain these nuances. 💙 /sym
