This is a personal story of one of the biggest transformations I’ve experienced in my life. It’s not medical advice, and I have no idea if it will work for others in a similar situation. I share it mostly to spark conversation or give someone an idea for a new avenue to look into.
To give you some perspective, I’ve heard and read about people who’ve had cases of brain fog far worse than mine. Mine had been chronic and frustrating, but it had not fundamentally changed my ability to do the things I wanted to do. I tried all sorts of ways to improve my sleep and eventually, it did (that’s another story), but I was surprised that my brain fog was unaffected.
The next thing I did was go to my doctor, who ordered a series of blood tests to see if there were any glaring deficiencies or undiagnosed issues such as Lyme disease or other chronic maladies. Those results came back empty, with nothing pointing to a particular cause. My next theory was that mild stress was causing the brain fog.
Now, let me be clear: I don’t actually think my life is that stressful. I like my job, have great relationships, and a sense of purpose in my life, but, admittedly, I did many days feel a sort of background level of stress or anxiousness that I could never really put a finger on. I have long known that I am somewhat of a mouth breather, and that’s because my nose is almost chronically blocked—not because of allergies or a stuffy nose, from what I can tell, but simply because the air .
