Unfortunately, I seem to have hit another bump in the road concerning my writing skills. And it's making me feel as though I'm letting both my family and the readers of my posts down. I set out to document, from the patient's point of view, what the day to day life living with Lewy Body Dementia is truly like, the good, the bad and the ugly, no matter how ugly it became. But I fear I can no longer live up to this ideal of documenting all facets of this life.
As of late, it seems as though there is nothing in my warped little brain wanting to fight it's way out. I find myself staring at the walls, thinking of absolutely nothing and having not an iota of an idea of what I had been thinking of. It happens while I'm trying to pay attention to something, I just gradually slide into my dream world without even realizing it, only to return to the real world quite surprised to learn I had ever been missing. Even when I'm mostly aware of my surroundings, I find that my mind is still a blank for the most part, just lost in the oblivion of space, drifting about without any true barometer of reality. Nothing is in there that I can even think to converse with those around me little lone enough to convert it into a meaningful post.
With this realization comes a new wave of disappointment. Disappointment that I can no longer convey my true feelings and wants and needs adequately, either verbally or in the written word. It's always been very therapeutic to be able to get these nibbles of ideas out of my mind and onto the written page, hopefully in some way to obliviate the pain of LBD for someone else, whether that someone else be patient or caregiver. But I fear my usefulness in this area is fast fading. That the things I find to write about now are just space fillers, something to put out in a vain attempt to remain relevant, helpful even. Even if I do have a coherent thought that deserves to scribed to the written page, it seems that I no longer have the ability to string together enough cohesive words to make sense to the reader of the idea I'm trying to express. The writing becomes a jumbled string of unrelated phrases, more confusing than clarifying.
On the other hand, having so few thoughts in my head does alleviate the worries brought about by the everyday world. My days are much calmer now, more stress-free...peaceful. They aren't what I imagined this stage of my life to be like but then again, whose life is what they always thought it would be. To paraphrase the old saying, "Want to make God laugh, make your own plans!".
I do find myself confused as to place and time when I come back from these breaks from reality, so it's not all oats and honey. But it's sweet enough that, all-in-all, it's not such a bad reality...