Dementia Sucks. This is my new mantra.
I say those two words out loud when I’m alone. On a really bad day, I might even scream them in the car. Online, I discuss dementia with people I’ve never met and I write about it endlessly. I talk to my sister by phone and we sometimes laugh about this odd, crazy experience. Alone, I might cry after a bad day. At my mother’s, I’ll go into the bathroom and whisper, “dementia sucks,” over and over and over.
It’s amazing how many different ways I can say it — loud, soft, funny, angry, with different inflections.
Try it yourself. You’ll see.
Sometimes it helps to verbalize it. Hate it. Get the feelings out. Even if no one else hears.
Because when the next day rolls around, it all happens again and it will still suck. Then, suddenly, there might be a bright spot. Something shiny, uplifting, happy.
I grasp onto this little slice of happy and think: Yes, I can do this. Even though it sucks.