I haven't really any advice other than to say you might just have to go with it . My Mum made sense of her reality as it was to her - which required a total denial of (my) logic. One of her main defining characteristics became the ability to explain away everything. When you find that your wardrobe is full of clothes that you have never seen before it makes sense that someone has been in your flat and taken your clothes and left their own. It doesn't make sense that you cannot recognise your own clothes. And when you can hear noises in another room, then of course it is the person who has filled your wardrobe ... and when there is no external door out of that room, it makes perfect sense that they enter the flat through the ventilation grill. And so it went on. I think because Mum had spent so many years believing her own narrative, she could not go back. She had a horror of mental illness and a belief that it could be overcome by force of will. The best thing for us was the visit of a specialist doctor during lockdown and Mums truth (that a Moroccan lady sat at the table staring intently at her whilst counting buttons every morning) was so strong and the doctor so nice and trustworthy that Mum opened up. So even though Mum didn't change her beliefs, and even after being challenged to consider 'is this real' by the doctor, at least I knew that they knew - which helped me. Much coaxing led to a scan and diagnosis. Mums response to the letter stating she had vascular dementia was that she had never been so insulted in all her life and she refused to take any medication.