I hate to think my age is showing. I know I started a blog about Alzheimer's to track my mother's condition. I also remember thinking that it might violate her privacy for me to write publicly about it. So, I might have deleted it. I can't find a trace of it anywhere. But I think I would have printed it out before I deleted that stuff, wouldn't I?

Sometimes I think, "I must have Alzheimer's...early onset Alzheimer's." DH says, "Keep it up. You'll talk yourself into it." I don't think one can talk themselves into Alzheimer's. I think it's something that happens...something beyond a person's control. Who, in their right mind, would want AD? I read recently that a lot of people who are care providers for loved ones with AD begin to wonder if they are suffering from it, too. It sounds like it's very common.

One of the symptoms of depression is "forgetfulness." Well, that one might fit. Yesterday DH said, "You have no sense of humor." As I am wont to do, I mulled that over for awhile. Seven or so hours later when he came to bed and shut off the light, I shared with him why I don't have a sense of humor. He said, "Now you know how I feel."

"I try to encourage you. I look for reasons to give you something positive to hold onto. But me? I don't have anyone encouraging me. Nobody notices all the things I do. But let me miss one thing and that's what I hear about." I'm sure I'm responsible for every thing that goes wrong in this corner of the planet. I must be because nobody else is stepping up to take responsibility for all of it.

I don't go out much. He never takes me anywhere because "we don't have the money." I can go around this house and gather up all the trash, bag it, tie it and put it by the backdoor and he'll say, "Why do I have to take this out? Everyone else walks past that garbage can, too." Same with clean laundry. I can carry it to the basement, wash it, dry it, fold it and carry it to the dining room for everyone to take their stuff and put it away, but they don't understand why they have to do that when Mom is around for just that purpose.

I finally told him, "I'm sorry for my attitude. I'll work on mine if you'll work on yours. No double standards. If you don't have to work on yours, I won't work on mine, either." And that's how we left the conversation as we turned our backs to each other and went to sleep.

My parents...the Alzheimer's causes stress between them. And I try to arbitrate to get things calmed back down and peaceful. Sometimes, with everything else, it's stressful for me. But I can walk out the door of my parents' home and don't have to go back for a day or two or five or ten. They have to live with it day in, day out. They need me to come in and give them a change of scene and activity to break up what has become their way of life.

So, here I am, writing in my zest for living blog, very openly discussing my life instead of hiding beneath a cloak of anonymity. What is the matter with me?

I want sunshine. Lots of it. I want heat and humidity. Lots of it. I'm talking summer time. That's when I'm at my best. I want balance...body, mind and soul. I want peace...inner peace and peace within my family and home. I want passion in my life.

Some of it I can do for myself. Other of it is out of my control, out of my hands. So, I guess I'll take one day at a time. And since it's doing typical March weather today...snow earlier, then rain, now just gray and waiting for more of the wet stuff in whatever form...I guess it's time to turn on all the lights and simulate sunshine...lots of sunshine.

And about the Alzheimer's Journal I was writing online...I guess I'll worry about that another day. I'm thinking maybe I did delete it. But I can start it again if I want to. Anonymously, of course.