"Come with me into the tormented, haunted, half-lit night of the insane. This is my world. Let me lead you into it. Let me take you into the mind of a woman who is mad. You may not recognize some things in this world, and the faces will look strange to you. For this is a place where there is no love, no hope ... in the pulsing, throbbing world of the insane mind, where only nightmares are real ... " -Author Unknown
This weekend my eyes were opened to the horrors of dementia ... I finally saw what I was avoiding, fortunately my heart was opened and reminded that "whether we believe it or not, it is real to that person."
As she sat there and told me of her "adventures" and "nightmares" I could barely hold myself together, my heart was breaking in a matter of seconds. I was unable to move or speak as tears rolled down my cheeks. When I was finally able to gather my emotions all I could was nod my head and remind her how much I love her. I sat there with little to no knowledge of dementia, I was unsure of what I was "suppose" to do or how I was suppose to react. Should I have disregarded her stories? should I have told her that what she was seeing, hearing and feeling didn't really happen? Well if that is what I was suppose to do, I didn't. Instead I listened, acknowledged her, and provided a safe environment for her.
A glimpse into her world: "Someone is after me" ... "they want to kill me" ... "He is watching me" ... "They are making songs to kill me" ... "My own son wanted to hit me" ... "Nobody believes me" ... "I found my son, who I hadn't seen since he was 2 years old" ... "I have these dreams ... I see things, but they are real to me"
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