Stupidity As a Symptom of Malnutrition
I have suffered from brain fog, almost every day, and almost every minute of almost every waking hour, for the past seven or so years.
Having brain fog can be described as being extremely energetic physically and extremely tired mentally. Brain fog is like depression for the mind. (It can, of course, make the person depressed. And often, if not usually, does.) When I have brain fog, I cannot think clearly, concentrate, or remember things—even a simple sentence I have just read that is made up of more than ten or so words.
Another effect of brain fog is feeling like you are dreaming. Which isn’t surprising. Because you are literally half-asleep.
As you can imagine, that makes driving extremely dangerous. For you and, more unfortunate, other road users. And that’s because when you have brain fog and are driving, in my experience at least, you feel like you’re dreaming, floating—or rather, in this case, gliding—through space, and causing an accident wouldn’t be a big deal, since you are only dreaming.
Another relevant effect of brain fog is worth mentioning.
When I’m free from brain fog, I speak broken English—it not being my mother tongue—about once every thousandth sentence. But about every other sentence, or even more often than that, when I have brain fog.
The most depressing thing about having brain fog is not its terrible effects, but the fact that it has many possible causes. Which means that even a long lifetime can be too short for you to manage to finally get rid of brain fog for good.
And that’s because there are many things to try. Stop doing this, or start doing it; stop consuming that, or start consuming it; get these, or get rid of them, etc.
What’s worse, because there are many possible causes of brain fog, you could be lucky to try, for example, doing something whose doing will eventually get rid of it. But be unlucky to eventually give up on doing that thing, because doing that thing is taking forever to show its effectiveness by getting rid of the brain fog, or at least making it less severe; and you not only do not know that doing that thing will eventually get rid of the brain fog, but also have many other things to do or stop doing to see if that would cure your brain fog.
Another depressing thing about brain fog is that you cannot make others, people who expect you to be yourself and to perform as if you were fine, understand the degree to which brain fog has paralysed your mind. As a result, you generally seem unable or unwilling to do something you are willing to do; and/or are not only able to do, but also great at doing it.
Yes, you can simply describe the effects of brain fog on you to them. Like I just did to you. But even the most accurate description is just a bunch of words, which are unable to make others experience, even for a second, even a single degree of what they are describing. Just like how we cannot get even a fraction of even a single nutrient from staring at a photograph of even the most nutritious meal, even if it was shot by the greatest photographer in the history of photography.
Because of brain fog, I have spent the vast majority of the past seven or so years unable to do, regularly and for a long time at a time, the things I love doing. Things I dedicate most of my life to doing. Things that make life worth living … not leaving … to me. Things such as writing, meditating, reading, and walking (for the sake of walking, not getting somewhere).
You can obviously still take walks when you have brain fog. But you would be doing that half-asleep. Which is like sucking a lollipop with its wrapper on … in pursuit of sweetness.
To be honest, I would not have been mad at myself, if it were possible, if I had killed myself because of the seven or so years of almost always being half-asleep, during my waking hours, that brain fog has forced on me.
Luckily for those who find my work interesting, I find being dead boring.
Why I’m Grateful for Suffering from Brain Fog for so Long
In short, because that has led to me writing this essay, which has the potential to initiate changes that have the potential to reveal the high levels of intelligence of probably millions of people who are generally classified as having low levels of intelligence, or being stupid.
With the seven or so years of suffering from brain fog pretty much all the time—being unable to think clearly, concentrate, or remember even a sentence I had just read—came an incident that was eventually followed by the insight this essay revolves around.
Fortunately, I was occasionally “myself”. That is to say, free from brain fog.
(In our usual manner of speaking, you can say that I’m a different person when I have brain fog—nobody has ever noticed that, though. Or rather, I don’t even feel like a person. I feel like nothing but consciousness, which, as the truly spiritually awakened have realized, is the real “me” … or “you”. But let me not get that deep. That would lead to almost every reader of this essay being distracted by their feeling doubt, and with reason, regarding my sanity.)
On those rare occasions, I was able to think clearly, concentrate, and remember things—even sentences I wrote or read many years ago. And I was able to memorise a phone number, which is impossible for me when I have brain fog. Yes, brain fog is that mentally paralysing!
As might have been expected, not having brain fog, and as a result finally “remembering” how it is not to have it, led to me comparing my mental state and mental abilities when I have brain fog with my mental state and mental abilities when I’m free from brain fog.
“It’s Not Bragging If You Can Back It Up”: Google Me!
I’m highly intelligent. So much so that, if it were possible, you could create at least five very intelligent minds from my mind alone.
But if I were like most people and to judge myself, when I have brain fog, as someone else to whom I’m a stranger, I would definitely regard the brain-fogged me as stupid.
Seeing that, for most people to label you as stupid, all you need to do is to, for example, forget a sentence you have just read; fail to remember what you have studied, and, as a result, the grade, too; or be unable to speak, even your mother tongue, fluently … consistently.
As a matter of fact, being like most people wouldn’t be necessary. I mean, clear thinking is the foundation of intelligence—or, at least, a high level of intelligence. And I’m sure that we the sane can all agree that the inability to remember or concentrate is not necessarily a sign or result of stupidity or low intelligence.
Not only does brain fog make an intellectual you do not know seem not to have a highly developed intellect, it also makes them seem stupid. In other words, brain fog makes a very intelligent person seem to be cursed with the opposite of that with which they are blessed.
Maybe They or You Are Not Stupid
An interesting question came to mind while I was comparing my mental abilities in the presence of brain fog with those in its absence.
How many of the many people we, and the vast majority of them, are dead sure are stupid are suffering, not from stupidity, but from malnutrition?
Here is the thing: In countless cases, the root cause of brain fog is deficiency of at least one nutrient. Nutrients such as vitamin B12 and omega-3 fatty acids, which the brain needs to function optimally.
And here is another thing: Many people have been suffering from brain fog for so long that they have gotten used to having poor memory and being unable to think clearly, and regard that as the best their minds can do. Thanks, of course, to their having forgotten how it is not to have brain fog.
Having poor memory and being unable to think clearly has become normal to them. Just like how someone who has lost an eye eventually gets used to seeing with only one eye, and then sees that as normal, and cannot remember or even imagine how it is to see with two eyes.
While it is, without a doubt, a good thing for such a person to get used to seeing with only one eye, it is unfair of us—here comes the unforgettable metaphor—to judge them as if they see with two eyes, when it comes to a performance of theirs that is entirely or greatly affected by how widely one sees.
This Essay Isn’t About Brain Fog or Malnutrition
Obviously, you can replace malnutrition, in the title of this essay, with something else that can cause brain fog. For example, chronic stress, dehydration, or food allergy. And you can replace brain fog, in most of the instances it has been mentioned in this essay, with a condition that makes it impossible for one to concentrate, remember, and/or think clearly.
An Important Fact Implied by This Essay
To be alive is not necessarily to live optimally: The fact that your diet is successful at preventing you from dying from starvation does not necessarily mean that it is successful at making every, or even merely any, organ of yours function as best as it can.
This Essay Is More Important Than You Think
If you take into account … the fact that millions of people do not know that they are allergic to something, or some things, found in the food they eat regularly, daily, or even more than once almost every day; and the fact that the food the vast majority of people eat is nutritionally deficient, and without them and us knowing … to say nothing of the many possible causes of conditions like brain fog, which make one unable to concentrate, remember, and/or think clearly … you cannot help but give this essay the importance it deserves.
Am I being arrogant? Well, that’s debatable. But…
Just think about the countlessness of life-enhancing, time-saving (and therefore, in a way, life-prolonging), and even life-saving, inventions that conditions like brain fog have robbed the human race of. And then think about the innumerableness of enlightening poems, essays, songs, books, et cetera that were not written or completed, because—because of conditions like brain fog—the enlightened writers were or are usually or always unable to think clearly.
(Side Note: If you suffer from brain fog, resist the urge to envy me. Or at least not a lot. I still suffer from brain fog. However, it is now less intense and less frequent. So much so that I’m confident that I will someday get rid of it for good. But even if I will forever suffer from it, I will find consolation in the fact that, because of the things I do to fight it, I can now concentrate for a few hours a day, my memory is much better, and I speak broken English less often.)
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