Welcome to the SeriesWelcome to the Me with Dementia Talking About… weekly series.
Each Wednesday, I share an excerpt from my book—Me With Dementia Talking About—where I share reflections from the perspective of someone living with dementia. These gentle reflections are designed to help caregivers, family members, friends, and healthcare professionals better understand what dementia may feel like from the inside.
Whether you’re joining us for the first time or have been following along from the beginning, I’m glad you’re here.
How It All Begins — The First Little Changes
“It doesn’t start with fireworks.
It starts with a flicker.
At first, I thought I was just tired — a little foggy, a little forgetful. We all have days like that, right? You lose your keys, forget the name of the movie you just watched, or walk into a room and can’t remember why.
But then the flickers kept happening.
I’d start a story, get halfway through, and lose the thread like a dropped stitch.
I’d open the fridge and stand there, staring, trying to remember what I was looking for.
I’d set down my glasses, only to find them in the freezer later, sitting proudly on top of the frozen peas.
At first, I laughed about it. So did my family.
‘Just getting older!’ I’d say with a wink.
But deep down, a quiet unease began to hum.
When the Mind Starts to Slip the Gears
You see, in a healthy brain, thoughts move like a smooth gear system — click, click, click — one idea turning the next. But when dementia begins, some of those gears grind. They skip teeth, stall, or spin in place.
It’s not dramatic. It’s subtle.
The right word hides. The date blurs. The day stretches and folds over itself.
I start relying on lists, sticky notes, and routines. I find ways to cover the gaps before anyone else sees them.
That’s one of dementia’s tricks in the beginning — I can still sound “normal” because I’m using old scripts. But behind my calm smile, my neurons are scrambling.
When Time and Sequence Start to Tangle
I might tell you something that happened last week as if it were yesterday.
Or think I’ve already done something I haven’t — taken my pills, eaten lunch, called the doctor.
That’s because my brain’s timekeeper — the hippocampus — has started misplacing the timestamps. Memories pile up out of order, like someone shuffled the pages of my life and forgot to number them.
The First Emotions That Come With It
At first, it’s mostly confusion.
Then embarrassment.
Then fear.
I might cover it with humor — “Oh, my brain’s just taking a vacation!” — but inside, I know something’s changing. It’s like standing in my own kitchen and feeling like a guest.
Sometimes I get frustrated. I snap, I argue, or I insist I’m right, even when I’m not. That’s not pride — it’s panic. My brain’s losing the thread, and I’m trying desperately to keep the story straight.
What Helps in the Beginning
Gentle reminders, not corrections.
(‘You already told me that story — and I love it every time,’ works better than, ‘You just said that!’)
Simple routines that feel familiar — same breakfast, same chair, same rhythm to the day.
Patience from loved ones who understand that these aren’t “senior moments” — they’re warning lights on the dashboard.
If you start noticing these patterns, please don’t ignore them.
The sooner dementia is recognized, the sooner you can get help, plan ahead, and build a circle of support.
Closing Thoughts
The first little changes are like hairline cracks in a window — barely visible at first, but spreading quietly underneath.
I may not be able to name it right away.
I may not want to.
But deep down, I can feel it — my neurons whispering slower, my thoughts taking longer routes home.
Please be gentle in these beginning days. I’m not in denial — I’m adjusting to a new reality, one small flicker at a time.”
Continue the Journey
Thank you for reading this week’s chapter from Me with Dementia Talking About…
This series follows the book in order, one chapter each week, making it easy to read from beginning to end.
