I've been a member of this forum for almost a year now. I come here and read your accounts of life with someone you love who has dementia and it comforts me that I'm not the only one caring for a husband whom I love deeply, but who is not the man he was five years ago, and will never be again. He's a diabetic so I also have to try and manage his blood sugar because he isn't able to any more. As well, while he was always something of a "hard a$$" in years gone by, somehow the dementia has changde him into someone who cries easily, can no longer make a decision as simple as ordering from a menu, talks to himself or mumbles constantly, and throws tantrums and screams when something minor doesn't go the way it should . And all of that's the part that I have been struggling with silently. I'm finally posting here because tonight I'm struggling to accept his mental deterioration, and while I have close and enormously supportive friends, they aren't living it. But I know you are. So here I am. I live in Dallas, Texas. I'm a young 70, and my husband is an "old" 83. He was diagnosed by our neurologist with dementia about 3 years ago. Unlike many of you - and this is where I feel like I have no legitimate reason to complain (sigh) - he's still able to shower, dress, and socialize. We still travel to my homeland of Australia, and on wonderful Viking cruises. But that's what it looks like on the outside. On the inside, he cries in the shower and when asked why he's crying, he says he doesn't know. I ask if he'd like me to get in the shower with him, but he says no. So I sit on the toilet and just talk to him until he's ready to get out. He can dress as long as I select everything for him and lay it out on the bed. It takes him a long time to get everything on, but he can still do it. He socializes and is able to look like he's participating, but he really isn't if you look closely. He has difficulty following any conversation and is unable to respond when asked what was being talked about. He "rides along" but he really doesn't. We're booked on an Alaska cruise for August and today we talked through what excursions, if any, he might feel he'd like to do. He doesn't really care and decided that just being on the ship would be okay. I'm good with that, but I miss the "sharing" of experiences that create memories. Tonight I'm finally posting on this forum mostly because I don't want to burden friends with how I'm feeling. I think tonight is the result of several podcasts I listened to today while on my daily 2 mile walk. The podcasts are by Teepa Snow, an American woman who specializes in advice for carers of those with Alzheimers. I've learned from her that Roger will never again be the man he was five years ago. And that our life will never be what it was five years ago. And that try as I might, nothing will change that. He doesn't know that things have changed. That how I feel about him and our marriage has changed. I still love him deeply and will do whatever it takes to make the remainder of his life, however long or short that might be, the very best that it can be. But it's taking its toll on me. We are night owls -- and I've tried to keep his "schedule" to some degree, just to ward off the loneliness really. We go to bed around 1 am, and while I sleep soundly until the next day, he'll be up again watching TV at 3 am, 5 am, or 9 am, and then "sleep" until 2 pm in the afternoon. I've told him I feel like I'm married to a roommate who works nights. I'm sorry this is so long. I guess tonight I'm feeling the loneliness and hopelessness that this "long goodbye" has brought into my life, and as I don't want to burden my friends with my heartache, here I am.