Brain Fog

What if the fog in our heads does not come only from within us?

Brain fog is not a clearly defined medical term, and yet many people know the feeling very well: thoughts feel sluggish, words are missing, concentration breaks down, memories blur, even simple tasks suddenly become exhausting. In the book, brain fog is described as a state of reduced mental clarity, with slowed thinking, memory gaps, word-finding problems, and mental fatigue. At the same time, it raises the question of whether the quality of indoor air could play a bigger role in it than previously assumed.

In Dicke Luft, we do not just tell of diagnoses and symptoms, but of an experience that remained incomprehensible to us for a long time: the feeling that something was wrong with our thinking without being able to say exactly why.

When Everyday Life Suddenly Feels Strange

In the book, we describe how reality increasingly felt surreal over the years. Objects disappeared even though they had been in our hands seconds before. Thoughts broke off. Words did not come. Memories lost detail. There was a feeling of getting lost in one’s own everyday life, not only among things, but also among thoughts and tasks.

A State Many People Know

The book does not describe brain fog as a rare fringe phenomenon. On the contrary, it refers to studies according to which such complaints are reported surprisingly often, especially concentration problems, difficulty following conversations, and memory complaints, often without a clear medical finding.

That is precisely what makes brain fog so hard to grasp. It is real, but often not clearly measurable. It fits many diagnoses and, at the same time, none completely. That is why the book repeatedly presents it as part of a larger field of symptoms, together with exhaustion, sensitivity to stimuli, insomnia, pain, circulatory problems, and loss of concentration.

What if the Room Is Thinking Along?

One of the most disturbing questions in our book is this: what if not only psyche, stress, sleep, or disposition contribute to this fog, but also the room in which we live?

That is not a simple explanation for everything. But it is one possible building block that is usually missing from everyday interpretations.

Indoor Air as a Possible Amplifying Factor

We are not claiming that brain fog is generally caused by poor indoor air. It is not that simple. Our book does not give a final answer to that either. But it firmly puts the question on the table of whether polluted indoor spaces could be a relevant amplifying factor and whether many people are therefore looking for explanations in the wrong place.

Because if thinking, attention, word-finding, memory, and psychological resilience change with air quality, then air is no longer mere background. Then it belongs in the picture.

Why We Are Writing About This

Dicke Luft is not a collection of quick fixes. It is a personal search for clues. A story about symptoms, self-doubt, misinterpretations, and the slow realization that some of what we had considered psychological, neurological, or simply personal may also have been related to our environment.

The book connects our experiences with scientific indications of the health relevance of indoor air. It invites readers to see the fog in their heads not only as an individual problem, but also as a possible reaction to the rooms in which people live, sleep, and work day after day.

Perhaps Clarity Begins Earlier Than We Think

Perhaps in many cases brain fog is exactly the diffuse symptom it is considered today: a condition without a clear cause and without any real possibility of cure. But perhaps there are also cases in which polluted indoor spaces, air pollutants, or chronically poor ventilation play a stronger part than previously assumed. Perhaps indoor air is not the whole explanation. But perhaps it is a missing piece of the puzzle.

And perhaps the crucial question begins not only in the brain, but in the room where that brain breathes day after day.