In my early=to-moderate spouse support group today, one woman said that watching her husband decline slowly but surely was so sad ... how each week he falls a little bit further down that slippery slope. Of all the moods she experiences daily ... frustration, guilt, anger, etc., ... she said it was coping with the sadness that upset her the most. I could really relate to that because right before our meeting my wife and I went to lunch ... going out for lunch right before our resepctive support group meetings is a habit we started a month ago to make the focus of the day a more positive experience ... and with the bill came a card to fill out for a chance to win a gift certificate to that same restaurant. Along with name/address/phone/email address was a place to note your birthday and anniversary ... I guess so the restaurant can send a discount coupon for those occasions. My wife was filling out the 2 cards, one for each of us, when she suddenly stopped and looked at me with a sad face. She could not recall either of our birhtdays, nor the date of our our anniversary. As her tears started flowing, all I could feel was this immense sadness ... watching HER sadness as she recognized how fast she is sliding, and MY sadness as I watch what is happening to her, utterly powerless to prevent the future declines sure to come. Up until today, I think, I've somehow managed to avoid this feeling of 'incremental sadness' ... but I think today I recognized that this is yet an added dimension to my ever-changing 'new normal' as this horrible disease progresses. As with so many in my group, maybe my own days of taking an anti-depressant are not that far off!

aargh. Every time I think I'm on a plateau, emotionally speaking, I suddenly step on a jiggly spot and end up down on the next ledge. (funny how this corresponds with husband taking his own step toward less functional.) Unfortunately, antidepressants seem to make me horribly fatigued and nauseous, so they become not-an-option. I'm managing with St. John's Wort and some herbal adaptogens.

In the spirit of AlzSpouse frankness, seriously, I just want to get it over with. But such are not the cards.

There's this odd, vaguely smiling, placidly passive animatron who looks somewhat like my old husband, and it sits on a kitchen chair gazing about, occasionally patting me or the kids on the shoulder, eating any food you hand it, but doing little else. My job is to keep it content, take it almost everywhere I go, and maintain an upbeat spirit.

I have gone through the anger, frustration, guilt, false cheerfulness and every other emotion under the sun except the sadness, until now. My husband has been in placement for just over a year and the sadness just keeps creeping up and up. I miss him more every day and find it very hard to get through a day without tears. Some days, I have to avoid this site because just reading about someone else's spouse declining or hitting a rough patch like some I have already been through makes me weep. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow and may ask about anti depressants myself. Just last week, I took Charlie out to the lovely gazebo they have on their grounds and as we sat there, I simply lay my head in his lap and cried and cried. I told him over and over how much I loved him and missed him. Didn't even feel the relief that a good cry can sometimes bring because I am not sure he can understand what I say and if he did not understand my words, he probably was wondering what he had done to make me cry.

Edis i feel your sadness in your post. i know its so very hard. its hard enough having them at home and declining to visually see on a daily basis. i can only imagine the pain of placing them in a facility away from our love and hands. i am so sorry -maybe the antidepressant is a good idea. no body here is a winner
hugs
divvi

I sincerely hope no one would ever refer to me or my husband as an "it". cs

I've also heard this dilemma described as chronic grief. By some miracle if you come to terms with what's going on--hold on--things get worse and you are thrust into grieving again.

emily--I'm in the same boat re antidepressants. They caused 13 hrs of sleep a night plus napping in the afternoon--not acceptable. While the description of your husband I'm sure--in no way--resembles his former self and is very sad, I'm wondering if you ever had to deal with anger and aggression that resulted from the disease? I did, and let me tell you, my husband's current passivity is lookin' real good to me by comparison!

cs: My use of the word "it" was not meant to offend or to dehumanize my husband, so much as to illustrate--by means of using jarring term--just how faded he is from his former fully alive self, or how what is left of him hardly seems to show any signs of being the vibrant human he once was. Another way I think of it sometimes is that he is a ghost, or a shadow person of his former self.

Everyone, even people fading like color photos left in the sun, need and deserve every kindness we can give them while any part of them still exists. I would never argue that point. You can feel confident that I'd never treat him or speak to him in the way that the word "it" made you feel.

Emily,

Everyone interprets written language differently, because they cannot see our facial expressions or body language when we write rather than speak in person. In my case, I knew exactly what you meant when you used the term, "it", and I did not take offense. I interpreted as volumes of sadness coming from deep within you. It is how I feel when cracks appear in the wall I have built around my emotions.

This disease is a 24/7 nightmare.

joang