Brain Fog?
- Sally Somerton
- May 10
- 1 min read
May- Poetic Prose for Mental Health Awareness Month
You walk into a room and forget why you’re there.
Again.
Midlife, they say.
Or…
Your brain has finally unionised.
New policy:
“We will no longer store unnecessary information, emotional baggage, or other people’s life admin.”
Fair enough.
You try to override this.
Make a list.
Make two lists.
A colour-coded spreadsheet.
Your brain responds by forgetting where you put the pen.
Iconic.
So you pause.
(Briefly. Let’s not get carried away.)
You take a breath.
A proper one.
In…and out… a little slower.
Something softens.
Not everything. Just enough.
You step outside.
The sky does not need anything from you.
The trees are not waiting for your input.
Rude, quite frankly. Surely they 'need' you?
Yet notice how deeply relieving it is.
You stand there for a moment longer than necessary.
This is what I call a magic moment.
No productivity.
No optimisation.
In a place. Not fixing anything.
Groundbreaking.
You go back inside.
Still slightly forgetful.
But less… full.
Because here’s the truth:
Your brain isn’t failing.
It’s editing.
Reducing the tabs.
Closing what no longer needs your attention.
Leaving you with what matters.
Eventually.
When it feels like it.
Sally x
Sally Somerton - Island Writer
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