Are you more retarded in real life though? You said your writing style got worse. What you're describing might have happened to me a few months ago while I was on a uni break, and when I came back to uni I was still able to do the course work just as well as before. I think in my case it wasn't that I got worse at writing things or got more retarded, I just lost a great deal of drive to create hopefully-decent effortposts out of my own volition. It's set to the backdrop of a general loss of drive and ability to appreciate things that's been slowly occurring since puberty, I just noticed this step down the staircase because it was a bit sharper and more sudden than the others. It's pretty fucking bad, normalfags like to go "teehee I'm so dead inside" but as time goes by I am actually starting to understand what those words mean and it's awful, when people joke that they're dead inside I cringe because they still seem to identify with things and live to do things. It's like somebody is actually trying to kill who I am inside. I get emptier and emptier as that person gets weaker and weaker, and although my perception of things gets duller and greyer, and things like my spatial awareness get somewhat worse, I remain more or less as cognisant as I was a few years ago. The voice in my head is narrating everything exactly the same as before. My cognisance, instead of disappearing, is increasingly focused on the emptiness and the process of things being converted into emptiness.
It's like being one of those brain injury patients who can't voluntarily move most of their muscles after a brain injury and can only communicate with doctors by blinking, except instead of losing the ability to exert control over my muscles I lose the ability to exert control over my willpower and appreciation of things that aren't related to base urges. It seems like most people around me are absolutely unable to appreciate anything other than the good feelings that come out of their base urges, and because I have to deal with them to get basic necessities they are able to slowly grind me down into them. I'm still okay at the things I was okay at, provided they were useful enough to a kike slave-driver to not rub up against the sensibilities of the slaves, but everything else is a shadow of its former self. I don't know what else it could be if it's not dealing with the world around me, I'm too young to have any sort of neurodegenerative disease and depression is a meme.
I seriously hope that I am more unwilling to embrace this shit than the average person, and that there is some sort of uncommon psychological trait I have that will prevent me from fully embracing it at any point. If this is the case, the end-stage of this process will fail to prevent me from caring about it (even if I become extremely apathetic about everything else) and I will eventually be driven to do something about it via it getting so bad I overcome my extremely cumbersome fear of death and become ready for drastic action. That something I do about it could either be a permanent solution to an incurable problem on my own or, if I am able to connect the one thing I am still fixated on with its cause and shift caring over to the cause, me forfeiting the tangible assets of the slave-drivers who did this to me by designing the system the way they did. I don't want these now, but hopefully if what's happening doesn't manage to snuff me out completely I will because that's better than being a meat-puppet.
You know what I mean?