Turning into my Parents

It comes to most of us, sooner or later. We’ll say or do something and that uncomfortable thought pops into your head – “oh my god, I sound just like my mother/father” [delete as appropriate]. I’ve had this a lot over the years. A couple of years ago, I became aware of my anxiety levels increasing. It seemed like anything would set it off. I really worried about it after my last fall off my horse (after he was scared by a motorcycle) as my anxiety escalated to previously unthought of levels. It got so bad that I’d start to panic if a motorcycle came up behind me when I was driving my car and I remember thinking at the time how bloody ridiculous it was, yet I couldn’t seem to reason my way out of it. I also remember thinking that I was turning into my mother as she had anxiety over (what I thought at the time were) the silliest things.

Then, when I started to forget things, put things in inappropriate places and generally forgot what I was saying in the middle of a sentence, it reminded me of my father when his Alzheimer’s symptoms started and I began to get a little worried.

When we had the high winds and storms a couple of years ago, I’d lie in bed at night, clutching at the covers, hoping that I’d be able to get to sleep, worrying myself silly about whether I’d still have a roof on the house in the morning. Then my attention span started to get shorter and shorter. I couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything for longer than five or ten minutes. I’d read something and have to re-read it several times before it made any kind of sense at all.

“This is what it means to get older” I thought to myself: brain shrinking, mental capacity reducing, aches and pains and all the attendant angst. Needless to say, I was less than happy about it.

When we had the four storms in succession a couple of months ago, one night as the wind was whistling around the house and I had just got into bed, I was listening to the gusts battering the house and the vents of my extractor fan going potty, I suddenly realised that my only worry was whether I was going to be able to get to sleep for the noise. As for the previous thoughts about whether the roof was going to blow off during the night – they were completely absent.

I had a little muse about this for a while and realised that I hadn’t been worrying over pretty much anything for a few months. I also realised that my attention span had improved to the point that I hadn’t noticed any attention deficit at all and that I’d been able to make steady progress through a number of online courses for which I’d signed up.

What prompted this miraculous recovery? You may well ask. Vitamin B12 is the answer. It started me wondering whether my parents also had a deficiency which may have caused at least some of their problems. Obviously they’re both long passed so there’s no way of knowing for sure, but my suspicion is very strong.

Certainly, for me, it’s seen the end of my endless worrying about everything. My rapid changes of mood and my easy irritability have disappeared and what I (only half jokingly) referred to as my ADHD have all gone by the wayside and I now feel like my old self again, mentally if not quite physically.

Gone are my worries that I’m turning into my mother or my father, as are the worries that I was starting to suffer from Alzheimers Diseasae. Mind you, there are still times when I open my mouth and say something and my inner self says “oh my god, you sound like mum!” but I don’t think that’ll ever go away!

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2 thoughts on “Turning into my Parents

  1. I have had the same transformation. First into that old man babbling to himself in front of you in the WalMart checkout line, and then someone totally sharp and coherent. (I am in the “sharp and coherent mode”) I cannot put my finger on what environmental factor changed however. Vitamins was not it. I suspect it might be “thinking about hard or complex things”.

    1. I wish that had been what worked for me Greg! I tried all manner of puzzles and studying to try and get my brain working properly, all to no avail 😦

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