I forget how to spell words I’ve known for years. I forget how to say things the way I mean them. Sometimes my thoughts are there, but the path to them feels broken. It can be frustrating, embarrassing, and exhausting in ways that are hard to explain to someone who hasn’t experienced it.
To cope, I write things down. I set alarms. I slow myself down and move through tasks carefully, one step at a time. When I still can’t figure things out, I ask for help. That isn’t easy, but I’m grateful to have a support system that doesn’t judge me—people who are patient, understanding, and willing to meet me where I am on my harder days.
In many ways, this was always a possibility. Before I was even born, my mother was in a serious car accident. Doctors warned that I might have neurological issues later in life. As I’ve grown older, those warnings have started to make sense. What once felt distant has slowly become part of my reality.
Living with this has given me a deeper understanding of people with dementia and Alzheimer’s. The confusion. The fear of losing pieces of yourself. The frustration of knowing who you are but struggling to access it. It has taught me empathy in a way nothing else could.
This is why keeping the mind active and cared for matters. But just as important is patience—especially self-patience. Memory loss doesn’t take away a person’s worth. It doesn’t erase intelligence, love, or identity. It simply means the journey looks different, and sometimes slower. And that deserves understanding, not judgment.
Memory products and supplements
