I am totally unhappy living in Pensacola and at the CCRC I live in. Yes, Azalea Trace is a wonderful, luxurious, high class facility. Yes, I have family I love here in Pensacola. But, I am not in an environment that meets my socialization needs. Neither Pensacola or the CCRC I live in has people that I share anything in common with! It is not their fault and I try not to think the are being jerks on purpose. They are rich, college educated, silver spoon people that have never done anything close to what I have done. They did not grow up poor. They are not blue collar. I clearly am!
My journey with LBD has caused me, in increasing amounts and occurrences, to talk, think, and even hallucinate about my Navy times. My mind is comfortable with the 40 years of my Navy life. Maybe even obsessed! I have no one to discuss Navy times with. No one that was a Ship owner, a Division Chief, who ever had a sea detail station, chipped paint, world 24 hours a day until they dropped to pass a material inspection, repair a gun mount, or shoot Naval Gun Fire Support to keep the Marines save in Beirut or other combat situations. No one knows what a "Hot Gun, Foul Bore" is or how dangerous that is!! Nobody cares that my friend GMG 1 Red Mills died in a gun mount explosion off the coast of Vietnam! No one cares about me, what I did, or who I am.
But all of those thoughts, experienced, fantasies, hallucinations, and events are all that I think of!!
The problem is, what do I do? Where do I go? Is this the beginning of the end? Do I push to move to Assisted or Memory Care now? And WHY is any of this on my mind or even my problem? Shouldn't these issues be someone else's responsibility? If so, who do I turn too?
Look, I do not want to sound too dramatic, or even crazy, but I need help and I do not see any help on the horizon. It seems irresponsible to leave me to make my own decisions when I think I am still in the Navy more times than not! But the truth is, I do not live or operate in the present. Ask anyone who real knows me. Like Bo, John, or Jim, all men I play billiards with. Or Rick, a retired Psychologist who's dog I walk sometimes.
Trust me, I am opening up more than ever before because, for the first time in a very long time, I am frightened! This week, I intend to find a direction for the future. If I can.
Two other points; One, this week I threw in the towel on ever living in the Armed Forces Retirement Home in Gulfport Mississippi (The Navy Home). We are here at Azalea. Linda cannot live in The Navy Home. I MUST provide for her future. So, that dream is dead.
Second; I have not resigned myself to the reality that here is where I will remain until I die. I will never live or have communion with Surface Navy Enlisted Men again. Who I was has died. But, who am I now. Do I even exist anymore? I believe I am an empty shell of my former self, with a video of my previous self playing 24/7/365 for anyone to see, if they were interested. Which they are not.
LBD has taken over me. Replace me with someone I do not know. The old me lives in thoughts and sea stories, told to an empty room.
Last though for this post. I do not even know who I CAN turn too. I feel alone, lost, and disconnected from life. Yes, I know my wife, son, grandsons, Allie, my middle Grandson's wife, my Best Friend Jerry and his wife, all care about me. But, they do not see what I am going through. They see what the wish I was or what I once was. Maybe I hide my issues well. I hate to disappoint them. They love me and I love them. But, I need help with the direction of my future.
There, over the last couple of hours,and through at least three editions, I have told you in detail where I am. Honestly, openly, and truthfully. It hurts me to be open like this. I have tears in my eyes as I am admitting my weakness, my fear, my inability to run my life, my frailty. I am ashamed of the power LBD has over me. But, it it what it is. Lewy Body Dementia.
And "I still have miles to go before I sleep."