Are delusions based on real experiences
- Thread starter kissesintherain
- Start date
Well who knows, Olivia, but it is nice to hear from someone else who knows the park. I went there once, to see where Mum had lived as a child as it was just nearby and I went into the museum wnere her parents used to take her and her brother on as Saturday morning. If I say 'Kelvingrove' despite her bad memories/delusions, she smiles at the mention of the name when she is well enough.
Re Saffie's comment on dreams being real, actually just before Mum became clearly ill with dementia she would tell me on the phone that she kept having weird dreams that felt real. I guess that was the brain starting to kind of break down the distinction between reality and delusion.
Re Saffie's comment on dreams being real, actually just before Mum became clearly ill with dementia she would tell me on the phone that she kept having weird dreams that felt real. I guess that was the brain starting to kind of break down the distinction between reality and delusion.
I've spent hours trying to get to the bottom of and understand where a lot of Mil's delusions came from - sometimes I could trace them back to a distorted memory of something that had actually happened to her, or someone she knew, sometimes I could trace them back to a TV programme - but often, I was left stumped.
There is a recurring theme of how she can drive/has driven to this or that place - she has never driven in her life, never had a lesson. She now frequently talks about either being in college or going to college - she left school at 14, and never went back to any educational class of any sort. We've had 'one-off' delusions that have defied any attempt on my part to work out the source - the conviction that lasted for several hours about how she had had a baby daughter when she was in the army, before she got married - her name (insisted Mil) ws 'Nancy' and she visited Mil quite regularly. Mil was never in the army, and she only ever had the one child, my husband. Some have been funny (in hindsight, and because if you didn't laugh, you would cry!) - the conviction that she was a close friend of Terry Wogan and her demands that I phone his parents when he passed away, as they couldn't possibly organise his funeral without Mil advising them. Or the one where she ranted that I had to get her a taxi as she was due to perform in the play where she wears a blue dress and a horse is on stage with her. Some have been terrifying - the recurrent belief that there are gunmen/terrorists/men with knives all around her; or the worst one ever - the morning she woke utterly convinced that she was about to be executed and that I was a prison warder getting her washed and dresed to face the hangman.
TV was a problem - in the last few months before she went into a CH, we had to heavily censor what she watched, as whatever she saw could become her reality almost before the programme finished. OH hadn't come home from work as we claimed, she insisted one day - he'd just returned from a bush tucker trial in the jungle! And after watching one of her much loved police/muder-mystery programmes, I became a police officer and she begged me to move the burnt corpse off the landing.
I don't think knowing where the delusions originated helped me to ever reassure her - in their grip, she was so resistant to any form of distraction or persuasion, that whether I knew or not, I rarely was able to comfort her or ease her fears if she was scared or angry. But sometimes knowing would strangely help me to cope with the sheer relentless nature of them - no idea why, it just did.
There is a recurring theme of how she can drive/has driven to this or that place - she has never driven in her life, never had a lesson. She now frequently talks about either being in college or going to college - she left school at 14, and never went back to any educational class of any sort. We've had 'one-off' delusions that have defied any attempt on my part to work out the source - the conviction that lasted for several hours about how she had had a baby daughter when she was in the army, before she got married - her name (insisted Mil) ws 'Nancy' and she visited Mil quite regularly. Mil was never in the army, and she only ever had the one child, my husband. Some have been funny (in hindsight, and because if you didn't laugh, you would cry!) - the conviction that she was a close friend of Terry Wogan and her demands that I phone his parents when he passed away, as they couldn't possibly organise his funeral without Mil advising them. Or the one where she ranted that I had to get her a taxi as she was due to perform in the play where she wears a blue dress and a horse is on stage with her. Some have been terrifying - the recurrent belief that there are gunmen/terrorists/men with knives all around her; or the worst one ever - the morning she woke utterly convinced that she was about to be executed and that I was a prison warder getting her washed and dresed to face the hangman.
TV was a problem - in the last few months before she went into a CH, we had to heavily censor what she watched, as whatever she saw could become her reality almost before the programme finished. OH hadn't come home from work as we claimed, she insisted one day - he'd just returned from a bush tucker trial in the jungle! And after watching one of her much loved police/muder-mystery programmes, I became a police officer and she begged me to move the burnt corpse off the landing.
I don't think knowing where the delusions originated helped me to ever reassure her - in their grip, she was so resistant to any form of distraction or persuasion, that whether I knew or not, I rarely was able to comfort her or ease her fears if she was scared or angry. But sometimes knowing would strangely help me to cope with the sheer relentless nature of them - no idea why, it just did.
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How odd that Kelvingrove should become so much talked about. It is an area, a park and a museum and gallery. I grew up there and my walk to secondary school was from one side of the park to the other and the best part of my school day. I wouldn't have walked through it at night either but then I wouldn't walk through any park at night in any city.
We played in that park and walked with boyfriends and since most Glaswegians at that time lived in tenements it was our open space, our garden, our civilisation.
I have decided that if I ever become delusional I will revisit Kelvingrove in the fifties.
We played in that park and walked with boyfriends and since most Glaswegians at that time lived in tenements it was our open space, our garden, our civilisation.
I have decided that if I ever become delusional I will revisit Kelvingrove in the fifties.
Just a thought........
I was once told that their delusions are sometimes aligned with dreams. I do know that I have had some VERY vivid dreams with themes that would make me blush when recalled in the morning
They were so realistic at the time, and goodness knows how the thoughts came into my dreams, nothing relating to 'real' life!!! Who is to know that our nearest and dearest don't have weird experiences in their dreams and this is what they are having their delusions about.
I was once told that their delusions are sometimes aligned with dreams. I do know that I have had some VERY vivid dreams with themes that would make me blush when recalled in the morning
They were so realistic at the time, and goodness knows how the thoughts came into my dreams, nothing relating to 'real' life!!! Who is to know that our nearest and dearest don't have weird experiences in their dreams and this is what they are having their delusions about.
Just a thought........
I was once told that their delusions are sometimes aligned with dreams. I do know that I have had some VERY vivid dreams with themes that would make me blush when recalled in the morning
There is that too. I think myself that the delusions can come from anywhere. snatches of real exeriences; a scrap of sound; a scene from a tv show or movie, long forgotten, but that one scene sticks in the head; maybe something from a favourite book they used to read, or as in William's case once or twice, something that happened in history, slightly twisted, as also used to happen William, shadows of tree branches moving in the wind became something else. Occasionally, confabulation comes into play. Something did actually happen, but not with the person involved. However, with the gaps in their memory, their brain fills the gap with an event it finds stored somewhere in their memory. Maybe they read about it, saw it on the news. For example, William once told the story of the huge earthquake in Mexico city, and how he saw it and was there at the time, and how awful it was, and the destruction etc. William had been in Mexico City in 1958 and there had of course been earthquakes there, but not while he was there. There was one in 1957, but the most major earthquake there, that destroyed something like 25sq km of the city, and killed around 5,000 people, happened in 1985. Of course, he would have known (and likely seen the damage from) the 1957 one. And he would of course have heard about the 1985 one. So, presumably his brain filled a gap in his memory with those items, and had him there during the earthquake.
Yes, Kelvingrove is a fantastic park, museum and gallery. It's a great area and agree about city parks.
This is interesting reading, how the delusional stories come about. It's interesting to rationalise where they come from. The terrifying ones sound V difficult to deal with - because going along with those would be potentially more upsetting. How can you change the subject if this is worrying the person? How do you comfort someone who is seeing horrible images?
This is interesting reading, how the delusional stories come about. It's interesting to rationalise where they come from. The terrifying ones sound V difficult to deal with - because going along with those would be potentially more upsetting. How can you change the subject if this is worrying the person? How do you comfort someone who is seeing horrible images?
My husband had horrific delusions and hallucinations. He was living in his own private horror movie, and there was no distraction, no let up, until he was finally put on a hefty dose of risperidone - then it was as if someone had flipped a switch, and turned the movie off! He had two happy, contented years at home before his advancing illness made caring for him too much for me. The later stages brought aggression and resistance to me helping with his personal care and he moved to a nursing home, where he was happy until he died. Never showed aggression to any of the staff, and loved my visits.
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LadyA
This sounds as though you did very well. It must have been very worrying indeed. It definitely affects those caring for a loved one who's living in a horrible nightmare. Awful for you. It sounds as if you did an incredible job. And the end result was not so terrible, it's a difficult road. That's for sure
This sounds as though you did very well. It must have been very worrying indeed. It definitely affects those caring for a loved one who's living in a horrible nightmare. Awful for you. It sounds as if you did an incredible job. And the end result was not so terrible, it's a difficult road. That's for sure
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