I'll never forget the moment I realized something was seriously wrong.

I was in a meeting with my own team—people I worked with every single day. I looked around the table to ask for input, and my mind went completely, terrifyingly blank. I couldn't remember a single one of their names.

It was only for a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. A hot flush of panic shot through my body. My heart hammered in my chest. I'm sure I looked like a deer in headlights. I managed to cover it up with a vague, "What does everyone think?" but inside, I was screaming.

This wasn't a one-time thing. It started happening more and more. I'd be in the middle of a sentence and completely forget what I was talking about. Or I'd be searching for a simple, everyday word like "table" or "chair," and it just wouldn't be there.

The first few times it happened, I panicked. I would stumble, apologize, and feel a wave of shame wash over me. I was a founder, a leader. My brain was my biggest asset, and it felt like it was being systematically dismantled. I was terrified that my team, my investors, and my clients would see me as incompetent.

I knew I was working on the long-term solutions—the HRT, the sleep, the nutrition—but that was a long game. I needed a survival plan for right now. This is the real, battle-tested, 6-part survival kit I built for myself when my brain felt like it was betraying me.

The core of my strategy was acceptance. I had to accept that, for now, my brain's internal memory was unreliable. So, I built a flawless external one.

1. The "No-Panic" Briefing Document: Before any important meeting, I create a simple, one-page document. It's my safety net. It includes a roster of attendees, my key talking points, and a "word bank" of any complex terms. I never walk into a room without it.

2. The "Sip of Water" Pause: This is my number one in-the-moment trick. When I feel my brain stalling, I don't panic. I deliberately reach for my glass of water and take a slow, thoughtful sip. It looks calm and projects control, but it's secretly buying my brain 5-10 seconds of runway to find the missing file.

3. The AI Notetaker Alibi: In virtual meetings, I use an AI notetaker and announce it at the start. This gives me the perfect professional excuse to be looking at my screen, where I have my briefing document open. It reframes "checking my notes" as "monitoring the transcript."

4. The "Buy Time" Phrases: I have a few phrases ready to deploy when I need a moment to think. "That's an interesting point, let me think on that for a second," or "Can you expand on that?" are simple ways to create space for my brain to catch up without appearing flustered.

5. The "Strategic Delegation" Save: If I walk out of a meeting feeling I wasn't clear, I don't send a summary email myself (that's not a CEO's task). Instead, I immediately ping a trusted direct report: "Great discussion. Can you draft a follow-up email outlining the decision on X? Let me see it before you send." This clarifies the point while reinforcing my role as a leader.

6. The "Emergency Exit" Maneuver: This is my "break glass in case of emergency" move. If I'm so lost that I can't recover, I'll glance at my phone and say, "I am so sorry, I have to take this. Please excuse me." I step out for 60 seconds to reset my nervous system. When I return, I have the perfect reason to ask, "I'm so sorry about that. Where were we?" It's a high-stakes move, but it's the ultimate escape hatch.

Brain fog does not erase your experience or your intelligence. It's a symptom, not an identity.

By accepting the temporary limitations of my brain and building this robust external system to support it, I was able to take back control. I stopped living in fear of the next blank moment and started walking into every room with the quiet confidence of knowing I was prepared for anything—even my own brain.

All the best,

Sonja Rincón

Founder & CEO, Menotracker