As 2024 comes to an end and 2025 awakens, I find myself rehashing the past events and imagining the future.
2024 was a very difficult year for me as I spent a good chunk of it deeply and chronically depressed. I wanted to die, but my husband wouldn’t let me. I’m so glad now that he didn’t.
I learned from the experience that depression is no small thing and can suck the life out of an otherwise healthy being. I learned that given the chance to live in the fullest sense of the word, I wanted to live.
My depression scared me. I never would’ve thought I could have fallen so deeply. I view myself as a mentally healthy person, an optimist who can meet any challenge with aplomb, but that period of depression shook me.
I think, without being arrogant here, that if I can fall into such depths of depression, anyone can. Depression is nothing like what I imagined it to be or what I have experienced in the past. It is pervasive and organic; in my case having little, and eventually nothing, to do with my situation.
Getting healthy brings enthusiasm for new experiences. I say “yes” to almost everything. I have to pace myself. My brain continues to decline but in ways that aren’t probably noticeable to friends, and in some ways that aren’t noticeable to me. My husband says I use the wrong word for what I mean to say, and just go right on talking without noticing. I’m not aware that I do this but I don’t doubt it.
Now that Medicare pays for PET scans, I think I’d like to get one to see for myself the state of my brain. I feel that it’s much better than it was a year ago.
But what if I’m wrong? And logically I am wrong. If I find out that I’m much worse off, how will I react? Will my symptoms become more pronounced because of expectations? Will I become despondent again? What is the actual upside of seeing a new brain scan? Maybe not knowing more is better. Maybe if I feel better, that’s good enough.
This dilemma is why I advise caution to anyone who wonders if they may have dementia and who is considering being tested. It’s a very personal decision.
When I found out I had the genetic predisposition and knew my brain power was slipping, I got tested right away. The scientific part of me wanted to verify. I wonder now how my life these past three years might have been different from how it has been having a diagnosis.
All in all, I am glad I made the decision to be tested, even though I wish the results had been different. I don’t want to waste a single minute of the healthy time I have left. I’m especially cognizant of this having recently seen my friend, Alan, die of dementia.
I wish you all, and especially those with this disease and their care partners, a prosperous 2025. Fill it with joy, and if you need help to accomplish this, get it.
Kim Martin splits her time between Hesperus and Durango and is a former instructor of Asian history, writing and comparative cultures at Fort Lewis College. She shares her journey with Mild Cognitive Impairment in occasional guest columns.
