My mum was diagnosed when I was 17, a few weeks into year 12. That first year of knowing was the worst. Within a few months of being diagnosed, my mum's paranoia was so bad she was in the hospital for a few months. She hated my dad and blamed him it for it, she denied having anything wrong with her and struggled to accept the diagnosis. After finally being put on medication to balance all of this, she returned home. But it still wasn't all well and bright. A few months later my mum had enough packed a bag and walked out the front door, I was the only one home and I couldn't stop her from leaving. My mum ran away from home and went to the beach. This ended up being good for her. The sun and the water improved her mood and she was doing great.
Fast forward 2 years, I'm now 20, mums 59. Her memory is declined at a pace I can't even begin to understand. She forgot her last name when signing for a parcel, she came up to me when I was visiting home last and asked how my name was spelled.
I just feel this strong urge to communicate with other younger people who are also going through this. Makes it feel a little less scary.
Fast forward 2 years, I'm now 20, mums 59. Her memory is declined at a pace I can't even begin to understand. She forgot her last name when signing for a parcel, she came up to me when I was visiting home last and asked how my name was spelled.
I just feel this strong urge to communicate with other younger people who are also going through this. Makes it feel a little less scary.
