Here is an extract from a post by Iain of Little House In The Paddy. How I appreciate what he is talking about. Losing ones grip, so to speak, ends up not being such a very bad thing. Causes one to appreciate what having a mental grip actually is.
I always notice in periods like this how much my brain feels as if it has been reduced to scrambled eggs. Vocabulary slips away and the ability to concentrate and think sequentially evaporates. It doesn’t take much to undermine conventional mental processes and that illusion of ‘having a grip’. It is that Freudian distinction between ‘I’ and ‘me’ I suppose, all the ‘I’ functions become undermined as your capacity to concentrate is lost due to fever and with it goes the possibility of keeping a short leash on anxiety, you just have to sit there with who you are and feel rough.
Under The Weather @ Little House In The Paddy.