I have noticed lately that not only do I lead a delightfully boring life, I also seem to be aging before my time. I mean, I'm fuckin FIFTEEN with a grey hair. And I do stupid shit like miss words out of my sentences and get plates out for cups of tea. Is there such a thing as early onset dementia? If so, I'm screwed.
Apparently there's a mum at my sister's school who has dementia. She's forty-odd. With young kids. Dementia is supposed to only be for old people in nursing homes with kids that can look after them and coded locks on the doors so they can't get out but she has it. How is that fair, how? I don't know this woman, I don't even know the validity of this story (though I did hear it from Mum and she's generally reliable) but I'm still devastated for their family.
Imagine being a little kid with a mum who forgets your name, your age, your face. Imagine running up to her, arms wide for a cuddle, expectancy and innocence, only to be held at arm's length, who are you? I'm sure that they would have a loving family to support them and explain what's happening, but what could beat the pain of not being recognised by your own mother?
Imagine being the mother, being trapped in an unescapable world which gets more nightmarish day by day. Fuck, what would it be like, living day by day with the knowledge that everything's going to slip away from you and you'll be left with nothing, nothing but confusion and a family of strangers. I don't want to tempt Fate but to be honest, I would rather die than to have that happen, at least I'd die knowing who I was, who my family and friends were, that I was loved, that it's all going to be okay in the end.
Apparently dementia's hereditary, so I've probably escaped fingerscrossedtouchwood.
But what if I haven't?