I am laughing at the title of my blog tonight which you may or may not remember came from my friend Roberta. We were talking about difficult people one day and Roberta said, “At least we know we’re crazy.” It was a joke, but Roberta and I have each fought depression much of our lives and have gratefully received relief from medication. That relief comes from knowing what the problem is, being able to identify it and being able to treat it.
I don’t think Roberta meant to be so profound — well, maybe, you never know with Bertie — but the philosophy has changed my way of thinking. If I know and can admit to my issues, then I can find peace in difficult situations and with difficult people because I know what is my problem and what isn’t. If you don’t realize that you’re contributing to the problem . . .well . . . at least I know I’m crazy.
I have been dealing with a difficult person this week. Someone I have to live with. (No, not Brent. No, not you, Mother.) I have also been dealing with myself and the dark fog that sometimes covers my brain. There is no better way for me to describe it. Every bright, beautiful and interesting thing about me . . . covered in fog. It gets hard to think and hard to remember that Little Miss Fog Brain isn’t who I really am.
So I am glad to read the title of my blog tonight and remind myself: At least I know. When I am done, I am going to look at the bottom of my blog and read the verse there: Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. (1 Corinthians 13:12) I love that verse. Even though there are things I will never understand — difficult people, difficult times, brain fog — it’s all because what I see on earth, I see through a mirror dimly. There is a time coming when it will all become clear. For one who suffers from Brain Fog, that’s a tremendously hopeful thing.