Cognitive Fog: 404 Brain Not Found

Back when online gaming first took off—long before MS showed up to crash the party—I always used the gamer tag Error Not Found or Error 404 (depending on character limits). I thought it was clever: a nod to broken websites, digital chaos, and my life as a web developer. It also made for some great moments, like getting messages from devs and support folks saying players kept reporting a bug because my name looked like a system error. Some even thought I'd hacked the game to hide my username so they couldn't find me again to exact revenge for getting a beat-down. I even caught the ban hammer a few times simply because the name was causing too much trouble. Boohoo.

But who knew I was predicting my own future? Because now, thanks to this lovely brain gremlin called multiple sclerosis, "404 Brain Not Found" is less of a joke and more of a daily status update.

I've never taken an IQ test. Never claimed to be smarter than everyone else. But I've always been sharp. The go-to person for friends, family, and colleagues when shit needed figuring out. I could look at a broken process, a mess of variables, and visualize a solution before most people had finished asking, "What do we do?" I've managed hundreds of projects—some small, some massive—and always believed that if you're leading people, you should damn well be capable of doing the work yourself.

Which makes what's happening now feel like mental whiplash.

Last week, I sat for a neuro psych evaluation—my first. They want to untangle what cognitive issues were MS-related and what might be something else, like ADHD. I've never been diagnosed with ADHD, but I've always suspected I had it. That test? It was a gut punch. A very polite, clinical gut punch that quietly screamed, "Hey, you're not imagining this. Your brain really is glitching." And now I get to wait a few weeks for the full report, which I'm sure will be a fun read.

So yeah—cog fog isn't just an occasional brain fart. It's a full-on disruption. But why?

So, What Is Actually Happening?

Let's get nerdy. In MS, your immune system treats your central nervous system like an intruder. It attacks the myelin sheath—the protective coating around your nerves—which slows or completely blocks electrical signals between your brain and the rest of your body. That includes the brain talking to itself.

Think of your brain as a giant office building full of workers. MS kicks down the doors and sets fire to the wiring. Suddenly the accounting department can't email the engineers. The lights are flickering. The elevators are out. People are trying to shout across floors just to get anything done.

That's cog fog.

Specifically, this can mess with:

• Working memory (holding onto info just long enough to use it)
• Processing speed (how fast you can take in and use new info)
• Attention and focus (thanks, executive dysfunction)
• Verbal fluency (that fun game of charades your brain plays when you forget a word mid-sentence)
• Problem solving and multitasking (used to be your jam—now it's just jammed)

How the Hell Do You Cope With This?

Short answer: poorly. Long answer: with a combo of tools, tricks, and sheer stubbornness.

External Brain FTW
Write everything down. Sticky notes, apps, journals, whiteboards, phone reminders—whatever keeps your thoughts from floating off like a helium balloon. I live by lists. Sometimes I even write "make a list" on the list so I can feel accomplished when I check it off. I keep note pads everywhere. I even painted a portion of my bedroom wall with chalkboard paint so I can jot stuff down before I forget.

Break Tasks into Bite-Sized Pieces
Trying to do a complex task in one go? That's a hard no. Break it down. Then break it down again. If it still feels like too much, it is. Give yourself permission to take it one micro-step at a time.

Routines Save Lives
I don't care if you feel like a robot—routine is your best defense. The more you automate (take meds, check calendar, charge devices, do one brain-cell activity before tackling a big one), the less room there is for chaos to sneak in. Keeping things organized and in the same place helps drastically.

Pick Your Battles
Some days the best you can do is exist. Don't force yourself to power through a foggy brain just to prove you're still sharp. You are sharp. Your neurons are just playing hide-and-seek right now. Take a 'me' day and just chill out on the sofa and binge watch TV. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.

Tell People What's Up
I get it—it's uncomfortable. Most of us avoid sharing our MS. But telling the people around you that your brain sometimes goes rogue can help a lot. It sets expectations, creates some grace when you blank mid-sentence, and reminds people that this is medical—not laziness.

Manage Energy Like It's Currency
Cognitive energy is real. Think of it like money: you only get so much a day. Spend it wisely. If something's going to cost brainpower, plan for recovery time or make swaps—like having frozen meals ready so you don't have to cook and think. If you're working, take as many breaks as you can. Don't beat yourself up if you can't finish a task as quickly as you expected. It's going to happen.

Therapy Helps (No, Really)
Whether it's working through the grief of losing mental clarity, picking up ADHD strategies that overlap with MS brain fog fixes, or just screaming into the void with a licensed professional—therapy actually helps. I never thought I needed it. I'd never dealt with depression or anxiety before, but MS changed that. Now I see both a therapist and a psychologist regularly. Even if all I do is vent about the latest round of stupidity MS has blessed me with, having someone to talk to—and who can offer actual guidance—makes a difference.

Tech Is Your Friend
Smart assistants, calendar apps with alerts, voice-to-text, browser extensions that stop you from opening 36 tabs—you name it. Use whatever lets you function with less effort. I'd be completely lost without my Fantastical calendar app. 

Wrapping It Up (Because My Brain Is About to Clock Out Again)