Sorry about the lack of posts.
I've been back in "The Fog." Work is picking up as I am able to handle more, but with each adjustment in my workload, I regress a bit in my ability to handle anything else. It's rather sad when my dad calls to ask what I've been doing (i.e. why haven't you called), and all I can say is, "work." I'm not even working more than 40 hours a week, but still I'm mentally exhausted and need a ton of sleep. Throw in any stress, late nights, transition, travel or anything else out of the normal schedule and I'm affected even more.
Affected means entering "The Fog." I thought of this analogy Saturday morning driving to church for a retreat of silence with some others in my 20something group. The fog was so thick I could hardly see much in front of my car. I realized that that was how I spent most of the last 16 months. I lived in that little spot of clarity. I lived in the moment and when the moment was gone, so was the memory. I don't remember events, only the emotions. I remember being upset with someone, but not knowing why. I remember feeling close to someone, but forget what developed that intimacy. When I was off work, I was able to write things down as I journaled. I haven't done much of that since I've returned to work, which is maybe why I feel like I've lost more of life (or memory of it) lately.
I'm well enough to tell when I'm entering the fog. I have some warning now. Before the fog would just come up and envelop me and the next thing I know I'm at home, though I don't know how I go there, or I'm somewhere else I wasn't before the fog hit. Now the fog comes more slowly: my vision blurs, my thoughts start to swirl, words are hard to come by, the world starts spinning. I get nauseous. It happened again on Saturday. The only remedy I've found is sleep and it seems I'm sleeping my life away.
I've come to an awareness that I've likely hurt some people while I've been in The Fog. I've let people down, or forgot important things or said the wrong thing because my mind wasn't working to filter my raw feelings. It's unsettling for the security of my relationships. It's humbling. I know I owe apologies, but I don't know to whom or for why.