Life in the Alzheimer's Warehouse

Denise1847

Good morning Dear Friends. I sometimes find it helpful to write down my thoughts. I am sharing what I wrote this morning in hopes that it will offer a perspective that while we don't have control over our situation, we can and do choose what we think of each day. Let's all fight with every fiber of our beings to stay out of the darkness.

The Warehouse

My mind is like an abandoned warehouse of thoughts and feelings. Enter the wrong room and I will be in despair and darkness. The scariest room is one of total darkness, the roof is full of holes. Rain pelts on me so much that I crawl into a ball yearning to be back in my mother’s womb where no pain, suffering and fear reside. The floor is rotten and there is nothing but darkness below. I must work hard and concentrate on not falling to the pit below. With constant prayer, I use my strength to crawl out of this darkness. I mark this door “do not enter.”

I see another door and enter. There are ugly people in this room: Anger in her dark red rage, Resentment lurking in the corner and Self-pity laughing at me. She says, “stay here awhile and you will look just like us – ugly and miserable for things you cannot change. We will be your best friends.” I want friends to make me feel better so I stay awhile. I become acutely aware that the air is so thick that it takes great effort to breathe, and it smells so rotten that I can taste it. I know I will not survive here so I leave this ugliness in hope of finding a place of peace and comfort.

I see a dark blue door and I open it to find no floor. I peer down into the abyss which appears like a deep pit. As I stand on the precipice of darkness, I feel the hopelessness surrounding me and trying to suck me into the pit. The forces are like magnets trying to draw me into danger. I run out of this room I label “Hopelessness – dead end.”

My mind is tired of searching for a room of rest, light, joy and peace. Does it even exist? I press on to a room and enter. The light is very dim, but I noticed a light switch on the wall. “ Is this some sick joke – there appears to be no energy in this warehouse?” I have nothing to lose so I try the switch. To my surprise it slowly brightens the room. But the bulb is dim and flickers. I utter to the light: “Please don’t go out, stay with me as you are my only hope.” As I peer through the darkness, hidden figures emerge – Jesus with His outstretched arms, my family, the beauty of creation, all my wonderful years of good health and joyous moments. It is at this moment that I decide that today I choose to stay in this room and rejoice in gratitude for all of my blessings.

I pray that I can be wise and strong enough to stay here when I can feel the goodness of life again.

tryingtodurvive

https://alzconnected.org/discussion/70144/life-in-the-alzheimers-warehouse

what a powerful way of describing what caretaking feels like. Prayers you stay in your hopeful room and I hope we all find that for every day.

fmb

I so needed to read this today. God bless you.

Dutiful One

Beautifully expressed. I have been in a dark place lately and this has helped give me some hope. Thank you for sharing!

Mint

Denise I enjoyed your post.

Reminds me of a post that was quite a long time ago, but I’ve never forgotten it. I believe it was written by someone who had Alzheimer’s. Basically she talked about how when things were dark she would try to go to a different window and look out.

take care

orth

wow, so beautiful. Thank you for sharing such deal true feelings.

FredW

Denise,

You did a great job of writing this piece. I'm sure more than I can relate. Trying to capture what caregivers go through with the written word is very difficult. Nobody walks in our shoes. Other caregivers know the paths we walk, but only we walk in our shoes.

I'm sure we all deal with similar struggles: The energy drain, and changing all the time because the disease changes your loved one. Sometimes daily.

Then there is the ambiguous loss we all suffer from. I lose a part of her daily— death with a 1,000 tears. The relationship morphs from something you cherish to something you don't even recognize.

And yes the dark thoughts: "When will she go?" "How much suffering can we take?" "We treat our terminal aminals better.", "Shall I help speed her journal to the end?", "Maybe I should …"

I miss my wife, my lover, my friend, my soulmate, and my life.

You captured this very well. I trust you stay out of those dark rooms and hang on to the lighted ones.