I knew something was wrong as I sat in my chair and felt as though somebody was trying to push me down into the abyss. I usually call this my “Concrete Overcoat” as depression meets Alzheimer’s and clashes together like a deafening thunderclap and clouds my brain into thinking there is nothing left in the world that is good.

A bold statement you may think but this is what happens when out of the blue the depression that goes with the knowledge of having such a horrid disease which has already claimed the lives of some of my family.

This is the reality of having an Alzheimer’s diagnosis.

So there I sat, in my chair, trying to remember all the good things I have in my life, my family, my friends and my abilities to try and carry on, but nothing but blackness and despair runs through my tormented mind. I look across at my “Angel” wife Elaine, she know something is wrong immediately by the look in my eyes.

She crosses the room and whilst standing, cradles my head into her lap, just as my wonderful grandmother used to do when I was but a child. “Everything will be ok you know,” she whispers to me while stroking my hair, but at this moment in time, nothing can convince me. Maybe it’s a culmination of turning fifty three, and reading a letter from my clinical Psychologist I received a day or so ago when she asked me to help her write a paper about being told at such an early age you have Alzheimer`s. I remember the statement “I was there when you were diagnosed and saw how you looked.” Maybe I had become complacent in trying to forget I was suffering from this awful thing.

All this together must have triggered something and I couldn’t see past anything at all at this moment.


There, I have said it now, it’s out in the open, and this is the raw reality of what it’s like to be told you have early onset of Alzheimer’s at the age of fifty. I`m scared, I’m scared for my family, I’m scared for what I may turn into but most of all I am scared to die.

I have written this just to try and show you wonderful people who look after people like me what must be going through the minds of so many people in my position and also must have gone through the minds of those who are further down the line than me. This is the truth of this unforgiving disease.

I know it’s not my usual upbeat post but Dementia has many faces, some I am good at hiding at, and some I have no control over.

Please God they will find a cure someday.

As the night passed and I drifted off to sleep eventually after much reassurance from my darling wife, a million dreams came rushing through my mind, all dark and all too horrific to describe here. The following morning we both arose, very tired but yet feeling we have survived yet another battle whilst knowing there will be many more to come. But with Elaine, my family and my friends by my side I just know that all will be ok.

Until the “Concrete Overcoat” calls again.

Best wishes, Norrms and family xxxxxxxx