My memory fails me. My head cannot contain these faces anymore. People tend to look more and more the same every single day. Sometimes I don't even recognise myself in the mirror. My face sags down at the cheeks. My lips no longer full or pink. My eyes grey. No more green. Not anymore.
My world is in this room. The odd ornament brings me back- I think. These brown carpets. These blue dressed nurses. These white sheets. This room is no longer my home. This world is too confusing.
My family don't visit anymore. Even if they did I wouldn't remember what they looked like. What they smelt like. The way it felt to hold them. My hands can't touch as well as before. They shake and spill. I cry. I don't know what's happening to me.
My mind doesn't work anymore. Once I was lost I turned up here with a suitcase I didn't pack and a promise of weekly visits. They forgot one week. They forget the next. They forget the next. And they forget the next. I can't remember what it was like to feel loved anymore. I can't curl up in bed. I'm too stiff. I'm simply too old.
Please visit the elderly. Sometimes being alone is the hardest fight.