I can't decide.

I follow the lovely Dementia Journeys on Twitter, and read an article by Beth Britton, another lovely lady that I follow this morning (read me). This article set me thinking (you can mock lol).

It's about sex and Dementia. The cogs started turning once I'd read it. Now I know that Dementia is usually an illness of the advanced years, but in our house we're not, yet Beth has captured exactly how I feel perfectly.

I would like to say that we haven't encountered the inappropriate touching of himself yet (thankfully), but the comments that he can make could make Chubby Brown blush.

I'm 37. He's 38. This illness has killed our sex life, I think anyway. It's not always down to him though. I struggle sometimes with the thought of having sex with him because I feel like I'm taking advantage of him. I sometimes think he doesn't want it, when maybe he might, but then sometimes he wants it when I really don't. I'm not sure how to explain it, but I often feel like the "carer" all the time and forget to log back into "wife" mode. I also struggle with the flip of moods that he can have. One minute insulting me, the next minute trying to initiate sex. I don't think of it as making love anymore because it seems like it's now a perfunctory act (except it's not regular) rather than an act of intimacy.

Don't get me wrong. Sex in our house can be great, but sometimes, and I feel awful for saying this, I'm gritting my teeth and waiting for it to be over. I think this is very sad, for both of us - although I would never tell him, I love him to bits. I remember the things we used to get up to, and yes, I'm blushing now lol, and we haven't gone back to those days yet (although we seem to with other aspects, so maybe it's just a matter of time), but his tastes have changed. I can sometimes feel like I'm not "there" for want of a better word and I'm simply "there" so he can complete the task. I feel duplicitous for feeling this way about him. It's unfair because it's not something he is aware of, and I feel selfish for feeling this way - it's not all about me afterall.

Cuddles and hugs are a rarety here. I can talk to him and get no response. It's sometimes like I'm talking to a wall (better than hitting "the wall" I know) but it's soul destroying when you just get nothing in return. Yet last night in bed he rolled over and said to me "You're my wife, and I love you." Wow. That meant the world to me. 

It's a complicated thing this Dementia, and it doesn't just affect the people who have the illness. Yet, when things are sad and dark and miserable, he can say something with a twinkle in his eye and just blow you away. I must admit, these rare moments is what gets me through :o)