Driving through a thick fog is like inching through a world that has disappeared. You know the world is still there, but you can’t see it clearly. Landmarks that you typically use to navigate your way home are now hidden. And the headlights, which once provided help, now seem to make matters worse. You creep along the highway, not entirely sure of what’s ahead.
For author Tim Challies, this provided a helpful metaphor for grief. After his son died, he was surprised by the “sense of darkness that swept over us and the fog that came with it.” At first he didn’t have those words to describe it, but after a friend used the phrase “brain fog,” it clicked. As he shares:
If grief makes you feel like you are going crazy, it might be helpful to know that you aren’t alone. Confusion is a common experience for those facing loss.
Not long after her husband died, Eleanor went shopping at the local grocery store. After she put her groceries in the car, she couldn’t find her glasses anywhere. She recalls:
Many express having difficulty concentrating. Tasks that once seemed routine may now feel overwhelming. Al found concentration to be nearly impossible for months after his father’s death. He says, “There were times that I just couldn’t concentrate on things. I would zone out in the middle of a conversation. Or while sitting at my desk at work I’d realize I’d been staring blankly at the computer screen for an hour. I just wasn’t able to be present and attentive.”
You may also find yourself struggling to recall important details or missing appointments. Even if you are typically good at calendaring, brain fog may cause you to struggle to keep up with scheduled events. You might even blank on obligations that are typically routine, like Clarissa, who shares that she “forgot to pick my kids up at school one time.” She also says, “I would even be driving and forget where I was going when I was at an intersection. Sometimes I would need to pull over and just think for a bit about where I needed to go next.”
When Malika’s husband died, her confusion was so profound that it was like losing months of her life: “In the first month after he died, I was not functional. I actually don’t remember a lot of what happened. I don’t remember conversations. I don’t remember people that I talked to. I don’t remember big chunks of time—for about a whole month.”
You might know what you need to do but find yourself unable to make a decision. Simple choices can feel paralyzing. Deb experienced this in the cereal aisle: “I’m standing in front of the cereal aisle, and I didn’t know what cereal to buy. I looked at the Lucky Charms and thought, ‘Those are good.’ But then I said to myself, ‘I can’t buy those because then I’ll be contributing to childhood obesity.’” She was shocked that these thoughts were going through her mind. “I felt like every decision was life and death. And so I literally struggled with picking out cereal. I was so worried that I was going to do something wrong, and it was going to mess things up even more.”
Experiencing confusion, forgetfulness, and difficulty concentrating can feel overwhelming, yet they are a normal part of the grieving process. But why does this happen? What is it about grief that clouds your thinking and makes even the simplest of tasks feel impossible?
What would happen to you if your local grocery store decided to completely rearrange the aisles overnight? The dairy is now where the meat used to be. The potato chips are now in the medicine aisle. It’s disorienting. You know the things you need are still there somewhere, but nothing is where it should be. Motor memory once had you effortlessly gliding through the store, as if you were on autopilot. But that is suddenly gone, replaced by a fog of confusion. Even if you do find what you need, the whole process has you questioning everything—do I even want chips anymore?
That is what grief does to the brain. Grief distracts you and reduces your ability to process, recall, and decide. Your brain is now in survival mode. And when it makes this shift, it begins to prioritize only what feels most urgent. The deeper, more complex processing—like remembering appointments, making decisions, or even being able to know why you walked into the room you’re now in—gets shoved to the back of the queue. It’s like your brain has decided to conserve energy for its emotional survival—leaving you very little bandwidth for important things like focus, clarity, or logic.
With your brain running on emergency power, it’s no wonder that confusion seems to be the norm now. It’s defaulting to instinct and habit instead of careful reasoning. Then we also must add to this the physical toll that grief is putting on your body. Catching herself driving aimlessly, Shelly realized all that was going on internally. As she says, “I was just being consumed with the sadness and all the thoughts distracting me from being able to really think clearly.”
Even when you aren’t going through grief, stress and anxiety will put your brain on high alert. When you’re stressed, your brain releases cortisol, a hormone designed to help you respond to immediate threats. That’s great when we’re in dangerous situations, but when that stress and anxiety continue—like they do during grief—your brain stays in a prolonged state of hypervigilance. This means your brain is constantly scanning for danger (think of Deb’s experience with Lucky Charms). This will make it harder to concentrate, recall information, or make decisions.
You may be especially prone to confusion if your loved one died in an unexpected or particularly violent way, such as a car accident, murder, or suicide. The death is so jarring that it disrupts your sense of reality, making it difficult to process what has happened.
Additionally, grief itself can be disorienting when it looks different from previous losses. If you’ve grieved before, you might assume it will follow a familiar pattern. But each loss is unique, and the process of grieving is usually different each time. When your grief doesn’t match your expectations, confusion can be expected.
With so much disruption happening in your life, it’s no wonder that confusion can feel so overwhelming. But the good news is that this fog, while frustrating, is not permanent. There are a few tips you can employ to help manage the mental fog.
Though she wasn’t prepared for the toll grief would take upon her mentally, eventually Eleanor’s cognitive capacity began to return. She says, “At first I couldn’t concentrate, my mind would not focus on anything except my loss. And I guess that’s what was needed—to give attention to the loss. It was about a three-month journey to be able to focus and concentrate again.”
When Jonathan’s wife died, mental fogginess was debilitating for him. Normally a driven leader, he couldn’t process anything. So he, much like Eleanor, decided he needed to give focused attention to his grief. He shares:
You may find a similar strategy to be helpful. Others have found help by prioritizing rest. Creating a bedtime routine may be helpful. Stay away from screens before bedtime and allow your body to get into a restful routine.
Malika, who had such profound confusion after her husband died, said that she got back on the right track when she committed herself to a routine of reading the Bible in the morning. She believes it was this practice that eventually helped her get back to work and start getting busy again and develop new patterns. Creating new rhythms can help clear up the fogginess. Malika tells us about her journey:
Others find help by writing things down and simplifying tasks for a while, until you can “get your brain back.” Keeping a journal can also assist with this. If possible, avoiding major decisions while battling confusion is a good idea. When her husband died by suicide, Whitney wanted to rearrange everything in the house to erase the painful memories. But she wouldn’t recommend that because “There are still items to this day, over two years later, I cannot find because I was in that much of a fog.”
Finally, you may also find help through a support group. Sometimes when we are driving in fog, the brake lights of the car in front of us can serve as a guiding light. Similarly, connecting with others on the journey can be like a beacon of light in this season of confusion. After Jamie’s wife died, he says his mental fog lasted many weeks. He credits his support group for helping the fog lift. “I think GriefShare really helped me just process through all of the information. I started GriefShare in September, and by October or November I was starting to kinda feel more like myself again.”
If you’re battling confusion and brain fog, you too could benefit from a supportive community of people. Consider a GriefShare group, like Jamie attended. In a GriefShare group you will hear from experts and fellow grievers. You will receive a participant guide with exercises, Bible studies, and brief articles that will provide suggestions for responding to your loss and considering what the future might hold. And there are additional video resources to help you in your journey.
To find a group, go to griefshare.org.