Watching the snowball of daily changes roll into an Alzheimer’s avalanche has rocketed me into depression, a place I never wanted to visit.
Although I didn’t need a quiz to confirm it, I took the depression assessment recently released by Google/National Alliance on Mental Illness. I passed with flying colors, like the alcoholism questionnaire I nervously took twenty years ago. Today, I face the same emotions: able to admit, difficult to accept.
Joining the ranks of Prozac Nation terrifies me almost more than the rapid-fire progression of Alzheimer’s and Mom’s upcoming move to a dementia care home.
I’ve chosen a different solution: counseling. My counselor runs a holistic dementia care home, based on the Eden Alternative. She’s energetic and compassionate. Outdoorsy and nurturing. She helps heal my soul.
Depression continues. Yet joy — often more elusive than accessible – returns, if only for an hour.
