I remember it like it was yesterday. The diagnosis of dementia had changed my life forever. I was in a state of shock, unable to comprehend the news I had just been told. I had noticed a few changes in my behavior, but I was convinced it was just a sign of aging. Little did I know, it was something much more serious.
I slowly began to notice my memory failing. I couldn’t recall even the simplest of details or remember the faces of people I had known for years. I had to be reminded of my daily tasks and it became more and more difficult to sustain conversations and remember directions.
My life was gradually slipping away. I had become increasingly dependent on my family as my condition deteriorated. I was filled with so much despair; it seemed like nothing could help me. My family struggled to watch me suffer, but they were all too aware that nothing could be done.
As my dementia took control, I felt powerless and hopeless. I had lost all sense of purpose and nothing held my attention anymore. My days were uneventful and I felt like a prisoner in my own home. I tried to maintain a positive outlook, but it was nearly impossible.
I had to accept that this was my fate. I was a lost cause in the battle of dementia. I became consumed by darkness and sadness until the day I was no longer here.