This is hard. It's messy and complicated and it will push you to your limits in ways you never imagined and may not want to admit. But it will also show you what you're made of. It will teach you lessons that you couldn't learn any other way. And it will give you a sense of purpose and meaning that goes beyond anything you ever thought possible.

When my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, it was like my whole world tilted on its axis. Suddenly, all the little things that I'd brushed off or explained away over the years started to make a sick kind of sense. The forgotten birthdays, the repeated stories, the times she'd call me manic about things that were so small they shouldn’t typically have such an intense impact on people - it all clicked into place like some twisted puzzle I never wanted to solve.

I'm not gonna lie; I've felt pretty isolated from my friends since my mom's diagnosis. It's hard to relate to their everyday drama and life experiences when I'm dealing with my mom forgetting who I am, trying to break out of my home, and yelling that her daughter is missing. And if I'm being brutally honest, sometimes I catch myself avoiding certain people because I'm straight-up jealous of their relationship with their mom.