Incomprehensible

For the last couple of months, perhaps a bit longer, I've noticed that speaking in proper sentences has become much more difficult. My writing has remained as incoherent as ever, but speaking is generally something that requires a great deal less consideration. When I attempt to speak with adults, whether they're colleagues or neighbours, words come out of my mouth in the wrong order. The same even happens at home when I am talking about something with Reiko or the boy. When words are not jumbled the vocabulary could be simply gone, leaving me bereft of the ability to communicate an idea. While this isn't too much of a problem at home where people expect me to be distracted or eccentric in some fashion, it does cause a problem with people who regularly operate in the real world.

How does a person communicate when they're utterly incomprehensible?

Articles online posit that this generally happens when a person is in a constant state of exhaustion, when they're isolated for too long, or when their mental faculties are deteriorating. All three of these are plausible explanations.

Later this month I'll have a bit of a checkup on my kidneys at the family doctor and will talk about this issue with him. He's already chastised me for not getting nearly enough sleep, though my flirting with polyphasic sleeping patterns has yielded some interesting results. Regardless, I expect to hear him berate me for not heading to bed at sunset and staying there until the rooster calls … as if I could stay idle for that long.