Coming Out of the Fog

The park next to my house isn't pretty. The sidewalks are cracked. The bathrooms are closed. The storm drains get clogged.

But the fog hangs like a veil concealing blemishes and deficits. When the world is covered in a haze, it is easier to take in what you can see. Somehow the "less" is even richer. Trees that normally blend into the landscape emerge prominently, declaring their existence. A row of rocks calmly fades into the distance.

Do our brains work the same way, when there is too much to take in, too much to deal with? Should we curse the fog that rolls in or should we embrace it? Sometimes our brains work the way they should. They override systems and keep us from doing too much... seeing too much at once. Unfortunately sometimes brains don't work like they should. What was once a valuable self preservation tool, is now a crippling wall preventing the cognitive thought necessary to live.
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Whenever I think...
"Why don't they just take their meds?"
"Why don't they just get a job?"
"Why don't they just stay away from drugs?
"Why don't they just..."
... I will try to remember that they are stuck in the fog. They can't see the door that's 6 feet in front of them because there is a white wall.