I Am in Dementia Prison with My Mom

My husband and I have taken care of my 92-year-old mother for over five years. I admitted that my mother suffered from dementia and even spoke about the same time. I just told her that she always forgotten, then as time went on I added the word of confusion. Last year, when we left home alone, she became uneasy and panicked. Tonight, after I finished using it within two hours, I returned to a crazy mother. "I can not leave my house by myself!" I think that the wall of the prison is rising, my mother and I are in prison of dementia.

I am angry because she is like my 3 year old granddaughter. Why is she so scared? My mother is a teacher, a lively, adventurous, brave woman. I am sad that I lost sight of who she is. I finally decided to reach out and use the support system by reaching out, so now it's early in the morning, I will use Google Search Help, God took me to this site.

Because the mother suffers from macular degeneration, it is no longer possible to use a written record as vision has declined in the past few years. She repeated the same question over and over. For example, if a new grandchild is born, she asks the name of her grandchild a few times a day. She is absorbed in several problems everyday. I am tired of answering the same question, my voice has advantages, I know that this will hurt my mother's feelings. I feel guilty about my inner anger and her impatience

My husband is very kind and patient, I love her very much, and he also understands me. The sacred god bless my partner

I have time. My sister is taking care of the medical and economic problems of her mother. When a break is necessary, another older sister takes care of her mother. She will stay for a couple of hours and she will treat her in her house for several days. My brother took her mother to her church on Sunday and then ate dinner with her. The other two brothers who lived even further called her regularly. My daughter, a nurse and two teenage sons will help me when I have to leave. It is fortunate that many families will help us. But every day care is about 75% and 25% of my dear husband. I started around 2.30 AM, which is already 4 AM, but it is very useful for me to write my own story.

When I was in my teens my grandfather (my mother's father) began suffering from dementia and came to our house for several years. I was pleased to be with him, but he was also very sad and saw him fall down. Dementia is mostly done as expected; misplaced items are generally confusing. But there is a very strange thing that my grandfather really bothered me and my mother. One day, he started talking about Connie. "Where did she go," he asked. We thought he was talking about my grandmother, but her name was Ann. Nobody in our family was named Connie, so we thought he was just confused. But he asks Conny. I began to wonder if Connie was a lady I lived in the past, we do not know.

If you know something about me, you will find that my middle name is dementia. My life is defined by this terrible, terrible condition. When I was in my teens, I was a young compassionate mother She lived in his young introduction to his young age in his 40s and died. Everything that I did in the next decade is dealing with shocks and consequences, or simply to survive. When I finally got together, my dream was to change the lives of other people who were living with juvenile dementia. From June 2012 until December 2017, I worked almost as a full-time volunteer at the Alzheimer's Association in Chicago and then worked as a social worker for the Toronto Alzheimer's Association from June 2015 to December 2017 . I did a year in 2012. I did some special work and learned some precious lessons. I came to support young people of dementia and their families, but I left and they changed them forever.