Brain fog

The pressure draws near in a suffocating welcome of misty inaction, impossibly heavy yet real. The fog is back, the same oppressive blanket experienced before the brain surgery almost seven years ago. Only it is thicker now, more persistent in its attempts to subvert confidence in who I am as it relentlessly conjures false paths to fool me, to retain control.

“I see you.” I direct the words at my adversary: one of us must go. The mind is desperate to return, to dominate through fear and desir...