JOAN’S BLOG – WEDNESDAY/THURSDAY, JULY 30/31 , 2008 – ENVELOPED IN SADNESS

Today I am feeling overwhelming sadness. It is enveloping me like a fog, and it will not clear. I look at my husband, who is despondent, depressed, and miserably unhappy  (How many more adjectives can I use to describe how he feels?) over his loss of freedom – his ability to get into the car and come and go as he pleases. Although he does not believe it, his misery is a partial cause of my sadness.

As in all marriages, ours had its financial ups and downs, occasional disagreements and spats, but was full of love, laughter, sexual energy, emotional connection, and fun. Where I once had a cheerleader, I now have a constant criticizer; where we once cuddled and touched constantly, now we walk apart; where we once huddled head to head and shared private jokes, we now sit across from one another exchanging information; where we once shared dreams for the future; we now do not speak of the doom that lies ahead; where I once saw love and fulfillment in his eyes when he looked at me, I now see a struggle to contain his anger. Where we were once partners in life, we are now two people trying to co-exist in some sort of peaceful arrangement. Alzheimer’s Disease has done all of this to us.

We have been in Florida for two years. No one we have met here, knows the real US. It pains me deeply that they see us as we are now, rather than as we were. Sometimes I just want to scream, “This isn’t US. This isn’t who we are. You don’t know the real US.” And for that, I am sad .

Always having been the optimist in the partnership, I still believe that we could have a somewhat pleasant life for as long as he is able. If he would consider volunteer options, he would have something to do, somewhere to go, something to look forward to. But he says no to everything I suggest. I see going to the gym together as an opportunity to enjoy an activity as a couple, rather than an anger provoking incident that reminds him he did not drive himself. I see grocery shopping by dropping him at one store, and me going to another, then me picking him up at the first store, as a quick, efficient way to get the chore done; he sees it as his independence and usefulness being stolen from him.  And for that, I am sad.

I understand that we will never be as we were. I have come to terms with that. I’m sad about it, but I have accepted it. But I still feel we could have a little enjoyment of each other and life if he would allow it. I am at a complete loss as to how to help him see that. We do have a psychiatrist appointment in two weeks. Maybe she will help. 

I have been told by friends who knew me and strangers who met me before AD, that I emanated light, joy, and exuberance upon entering a room. I don’t know if that is true, but what I do know to be true now is that friends and acquaintances tell me that they see stress, unhappiness, and emotional tenuousness in my face. If that is what they are seeing, that is not the real me. I think just as the husband I knew has been lost to Alzheimer’s Disease, so has the real me. And for that I am sad.

Last November, I wrote a blog about sadness, and there is an old message board topic related to it, but I would like to update it, and hear all of your opinions, experiences, and ideas on the sadness that accompanies a life with AD.

MESSAGE BOARD TOPIC: Joan’s Blog 7/30/08 – Enveloped in Sadness

Feedback to joan@thealzheimerspouse.com

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