Fibro Fog and Forgotten To-Do Lists: Learning to Be Kind to My Mind

April 24, 2025 - By Pete

🌀 Fibro Fog and Forgotten To-Do Lists: Learning to Be Kind to My Mind
mevFibro.blog

Some days, I lose my keys. Other days, I forget what I was saying halfway through

a sentence. And then there are days when I open the fridge, stand there for a good

minute, and still have no idea what I was after. That’s fibro fog for you — a symptom

I never saw coming, but now know all too well.

When I first started noticing brain fog, I thought I was just distracted, tired, or

maybe even a bit lazy. (Hello, internalised guilt.) It wasn’t until I learned more about

fibromyalgia that I realised: no, this isn’t “just forgetfulness.” This is my brain on Fibro.

Fibro fog feels like your mind is buffering. Like you’re running a race in your head,

only to forget the word for “microwave.” It’s frustrating, sometimes embarrassing,

and often completely out of your control.

It’s difficult to explain what this kind of cognitive fuzziness feels like unless you’ve

lived it. For me, it’s:

Writing a text and forgetting halfway through who I’m even messaging
Starting a task and abandoning it halfway because I’ve forgotten I started it in the first place
Staring blankly at my planner, wondering why the words might as well be in a different language

And the worst part? It’s invisible. People can see you limping or using a cane,

but they can’t see your mind short-circuiting.

I used to beat myself up constantly. I’d apologise too much, overcompensate and I would try to “push through” as if I was just being dramatic.

But slowly — and I mean slowly I’ve started to do something different: being kind to myself.

Now, I:

Write EVERYTHING down (even “drink water” goes on my to-do list)
Use phone reminders like they’re a second brain (because let’s be honest, they kind of are)
Accept that I won’t always be sharp — and that’s perfectly fine

Honestly, it took me a while to accept that sometimes, it’s just okay to not be okay.

Some days, I can barely remember my own name, and that’s when I remind myself:

I’m doing my best, and that’s enough.

If you love someone with fibromyalgia — or any chronic illness that affects cognition,

please be patient. We aren’t slacking off. We’re not ignoring you. Sometimes our brains

just hit pause, and we need a moment (or ten) to reboot.

If you are someone living with fibro fog: I see you. It’s not in your head

(well, it is — but not in the way people think). You’re not alone. You’re not failing.

And you’re definitely not broken. We’re just learning to live a different kind of life, one where kindness to ourselves matters more than

ticking every box on the list we probably lost anyway.

I’d love to hear from you. Share your funniest, most frustrating, or most relatable fibro fog

moment in the comments — let’s laugh about it (or cry a bit) together. We’ve all been there!

P.S. If you see me staring into the fridge tomorrow, it’s not because I’m lost in thought,

I’ve probably just forgotten why I’m there again. No judgement, please!