Cognitive fatigue

I’ve held off writing this post for a while, hoping I wouldn’t have to, but as the game of life played out, I have to after all.

It’s 7p in the US Central Time Zone.  We finally got our home office desktop computer fixed (have you ever tried to blog on a very-outdated WordPress app?  It’s not pretty), and so I’ve invaded my partner’s space.  Or maybe over the past year or two he’s invaded mine.  I don’t know; I’m not sure who was here first.  And I’m not entirely sure that it matters.

I’m surprised at myself, on two points.  The first is, he’s dozing behind me and although that would normally be a creative dealbreaker, I’m finding myself writing this anyway.  The second is, it’s 7pm, when not too long ago, my brain would’ve given out long ago.

That’s probably the explanation I owe.  There was a time in the not-too-distant-past when I was a blogging machine, spitting out as many as four blog posts in one day.  Now, three months have floated by without so much as a single keystroke.  That’s not like me.  But it has been.

I searched and found…and cried.  Once again, I experienced something that was different from those around me.  Once again, I freaked out, because something was wrong.  Once again, I went searching and at first, I found nothing.  And then, once again, I searched again some time later and found that there’s a name for my experiences.  Once again, the characteristics fit.  And once again, I’m finding myself in another learning process.

This time around, however, isn’t quite so happy.  This time around, the label isn’t Asperger’s or autism or whatever the DSM-V says we have to call ourselves.  This time around, it’s Cognitive Fatigue.

Cognitive Fatigue is defined as “a state usually associated with a weakening or depletion of one’s mental resources”, a sort of mental exhaustion that is characterized by depressing-sounding concepts such as suppressions of analysis, creativity, motivation, language, and short-term memory, as well as thought disorganization and thought deceleration.

Makes it a little tough to gather enough “brain juice” to write posts, read posts, or write or respond to comments in anything other than Emojese.

Cognitive Fatigue sometimes gets mistaken for simply “being tired“, but it’s not–it goes deeper than that.  It’s like having “brain spoons”, where you start out with a fixed amount each day and you’re not privy to what that number is.  All you know is that you’re hauling-brain-ass along, whipping out thoughts and ideas and self-expression left, right, and six ways from sideways, and suddenly you hit a brick wall you never saw coming.

Boom.  That’s it.  You’re done.  DONE.

For how long?  Until.

Until what?  Until.

Probably until the next day.  When you have school.  And then work.  And when you’re also on the Asperger’s/autism spectrum, and your school is online (easier) but your work involves peopling, that just compounds everything.

What they tell you about Cognitive Fatigue is that it’s often a “gift” that keeps on “giving” after a brain injury (TBI) or an effect of Multiple Sclerosis.  What they don’t tell you, maybe because “they” don’t know themselves, is that there might be other reasons for it.  Because everything I found out described my own experience, but I have no known history of either Usual Suspect.  My autoantibody test was negative for MS-related antibodies, and I have no known history of concussion, unless you want to count the playground in kindergarten, and I’d been fine after that.

It doesn’t matter when or what I ate.  It doesn’t matter how much sleep I got or didn’t get the night before.  It doesn’t matter what I had to accomplish that day or how long or fun my to-do list was.  My body might still be wide awake and on fire; it’s just my brain that crosses its arms across its chest, digs its feet in the dirt and refuses to budge another inch.

This isn’t “garden-variety” depression, either (although that in itself is serious enough, I’ve experienced serious bouts of that, too, and yes, I meant to use “serious” twice, because it is).  It’s not that I’ve lost interest.  It’s not that I lack motivation.  It’s not that I need a simple, short break.  It’s not the weather.  (Although it might be the planets…)

I have a pretty good idea of what it’s not.  I have less of a grip on what it is.

At least it’s an active area of research.

My own Cognitive Fatigue began very suddenly, over the course of less than a week in late May 2017, and it likely progressed after that.  I noticed that I couldn’t think.  I was restless at work–once a redlining steam engine with jugs full of motivation and a to-do list that would put George Carlin’s Scroll to shame, working well past 8pm every night while the hours blipped by, I suddenly saw time slow like a warped Salvador Dali clock and I would pace, not knowing what to do and not being able to get excited about much of anything.

An eternity would pass before I’d look up at the clock, and I would notice that it was only noon.

My brain was done for the day; it had had all it could handle.

At home, I fare slightly better.  My brain lasts until anywhere from 3-7p.  Not my usual 8p at the office, but I’ll take it.  I think the difference is being in my home environment, without pressure, without having had to fight traffic or interact with anyone else.  But as usual, I’m not sure.

And why this started in the first place, seemingly out of the blue, is also a mystery.  I have only theories, on which as yet I can find no solid ground.  Perhaps it’s a brain injury after all, but maybe not a physical one; the injury itself could be biochemical.  My mind drifts toward the memory of the nickel poisoning I sustained almost two years ago.  The one that almost led me to say a permanent goodbye.  I honestly couldn’t see the point of occupying space on the planet for another day.

In sharing this, I’m not looking for sympathy.  It’s not a cry for help.  It happened a year and a half ago and I’ve gotten past the emotional abyss that was my summer 2017.  I survived, I’m still here, and living to tell my story.

I’m talking about it because it’s important.  It needs to get talked about, not shoved under a rug.  There aren’t rugs big enough for some topics anyway.

I’m talking about it because the world likes to tiptoe around these topics, or turn them into cliches with walks and ribbons and dedicated days.

You know what?  Every day is suicide prevention day for me.

And heavy metals?  Scoff if you want; they’re real.  It happened.  I’ve lived it.  And through it–barely.

This past fall, I got nickel-poisoned again.  It was hell.  All over again.

Luckily, this time, I recognized what it was.  Because of that, I could deal with it quickly, and deal with it quickly I did.

But tonight is a special night.  It’s a special night for me when I can sit down and gather my thoughts into enough focus to compose a post this long and this coherent this late in the evening (despite logging on to find at least 5 comments in limbo about how I’m wrong about This or That, which serves only as a reminder as to why it sometimes takes increasing energy to blog in the first place; this post seems to be a favorite target).

What is special tonight was barebones normal before.  It’s something I used to take completely for granted.  I don’t anymore.

I don’t take anything for granted anymore–my life, my brain, my work, my words, my friends…nothing.  It’s all special.  It’s all a gift.

This past year and a half has been disorienting, dissolving, fragmented.  Confusion doesn’t begin to cover it; to call it that would be trite and simplistic.

I’d hate to jump the gun and say I might be coming out of it, or even say something as boldly as something about being able to see a light at the end of the tunnel, but maybe I do, somewhere on the horizon.

Being on the Asperger’s/autism spectrum in a neurotypical world is challenging.  Being bona fide cognitively fatigued is challenging.

Now pair them together.  Life becomes a clusterf**k.  I just want my regular AS-brain back, that’s all.  But nickel does lodge deep into the brain, as do other heavy metals.  Getting them out is going to be a risky chore, and I’ll have to proceed carefully.

This may take a while.  ❤

But for tonight, I freaking did it.  And for tonight, that’s enough for me.  🙂


(Image Credit: James McCarthy “Tolkyes“, Deviantart)




  1. Glad to see you back! Sorry to hear of your struggles but I always love to read your eloquent and REAL posts. Hoping the fog clears for you. Sometimes I feel as if you describe my daily struggles in words that I cannot explain. ❤️

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Oh, can I relate to cognitive fatigue, as well! I think many people like me, with bipolar disorder, experience that after periods of mood elevation (mania or hypomania).

    The comment from terismyth, above, also expresses how I feel about your blog. I have learned so much from you, and it’s amazing how I can related to so much you’ve written, personally. I do not have Asperger’s or any autism spectrum disorder. I believe I originally found your blog because my nephews have/had Asperger’s and I wanted to read what you wrote about it. We lost my youngest nephew 2 1/2 years ago to bipolar depression. He spoke very little, but produced the most amazing nature photographs I’ve ever seen. We even published many of them in a book in his honor.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Hi there, and this cognitive fatigue is why I am rarely able to read blog posts and articles anymore.

    I have recently discussed this with a couple of special people in my life and I have concluded that I have to step away from social media. I have to stop scrolling through my feeds, reading all the posts and article headlines, as this is causing information overload for my brain and is rendering it full/foggy/unable to access. It’s been about a week since I stopped scrolling on social media and I’ve notice a difference already! Hence, how I’ve been able to read this blog post and actually process and understand and relate as I read it, and not massively delayed (as per previously). This realisation about information overload has been massive for me and I’m hopeful about the thick brain fog clearing. Best wishes to you lovely, I’ve so missed your blog posts and I’m excited at the prospect of making my way though many over the next coming weeks/months xx

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Happy New Year Laina Eartharcher,
    I’m so sorry you are going through cognitive fatigue. I admire you for the courage to keep blogging, and thank you for the encouragement you have brought to me to keep on fighting and not give up.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Hi Mitch! Thank you so much for your warm thoughts 💓. Nope, you haven’t missed anything; I haven’t written in a long time 😳. I’ve been working on my Masters and it’s taken all of my writing juice right now 💜. I graduate in about 5 months though, so I’m really hoping to get back to writing and responding to more comments on here and leaving more comments for others 😍💞. Blessings to you too! 😍. Thanks again, my friend. Your comment means so very much to me 💖

      Liked by 2 people

  5. I am glad you’re back. Having been/going through this myself, I completely empathize with you and your post has really articulated it beautifully. You’re a wonderful writer. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with the world. 🙏

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Thank you Laina. I know this is an old post but I need this today. Mental fatigue has been hitting me hard this week. but I am doing my best to get through it. Hope all is well and you get back to writing eventually. I took about six months off from blogging but being back has been a mixed bag to say the least.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Hi, it’s 6:14 pm CT in INDIA (4:44 am) and I got to know about your difficulties not to mention the poisoning episode. You have a lucid way of explaining complex stuff. Hope and pray that you continue with your posts.
    Thanks and much appreciated for sharing

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Hi. I’m glad you’re writing again. I have no idea about all you’ve been going through; so, I ain’t gonna say anything about that in fear of just placating over the seriousness of your journey. So, I will say this, “I am happy that you’re writing again; I enjoy reading your BLOGs; and, I hope you will continue to write many more into the future! You’re a gift to me.”

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I have been fairly in active for quite a while. But I just read this with renewed eyes. People don’t know what to call this feeling, but it is very much real. I myself am going through it. It’s impossible to explain exactly how exhausting it is, or how frustrating it is, or even a level of anger that comes from. But I know. I do not have nickel poisoning, or MS, I just have a level of exhaustion but I don’t think most people understand. My brain doesn’t function, and when it does it’s for short periods, and then I’m right back to be exhausted. Recently, I have found a little bit of relief, but not necessarily enough to call it progress; though it feels permanent, I have learned that most things that do will pass. Both happiness and sadness, friendships, love, hate – these all pass. Nothing is forever, not even the functionality of your brain. The only thing to do is to keep pushing and hope today will be better than yesterday; I’m too tired to care about what tomorrow will be.

    And thank you for this. It’s good to know I’m not alone.

    Liked by 1 person

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