The real person?
A while ago a friend and I discussed whether, when dementia hits, the person left behind is the real one. I disagreed as I felt Ash would never have been this timid, anxious, pale version of the human being I once knew but it did make me think and I wonder now whether the man I share my life with at this point is the pared back version. Whether this is who he would have been if all those life experiences had never happened. What if we hadn't met on that school ski trip; what if he hadn't joined the police force and left home at 16; What if we hadn't moved to this village thirty seven years ago and made the friends we did; what if we hadn't spent summer after summer criss-crossing France with the camping gear; what if we hadn't been invited by friends to do things we'd never have thought of if left to our own devices; what if we hadn't spent every spare penny travelling to amazing places. All of those things boosted his confidence and self-esteem allowing him to do more, experience more and pass on all that knowledge to Jake which in turn boosted his confidence and self-esteem all over again. These things then turned him into the person he became but now it seems they've all been lost to the mists of time, disappeared from his very being, and with them that wonderful, joyful, committed, confident personality has gone too.
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Comments
I don't see it like that. Using the good old onion analogy, as people grow and mature, layers grow and develop on the outside of the onion. Then dementia comes along. It doesn't just neatly peel off the layers, giving a view of the person as they were before; it pulls off some layers, and hacks at various places around the onion with a knife cutting deeply, pulling out random chunks. What's left behind isn't the real onion.