Fiona Phillips, once a radiant and cherished face on British television, has spent decades greeting viewers with warmth and her signature smile. Yet behind the public persona lies a private battle that is slowly erasing her life, memories, and sense of self — Alzheimer’s.

Diagnosed at 61, Fiona speaks openly now, unfiltered, about the cruel reality of her days. “It’s like I’m still here… but not all of me,” she admits, voice trembling. “I can feel myself fading, and yet the world carries on as if nothing is happening.”

A simple moment captures her struggle: reaching for a £5 note she saw on the floor, only to have it slip through her fingers. “That’s what Alzheimer’s feels like,” she explains. “You think you’ve got it — a memory, a thought, a face — and then… it’s gone. And no one even notices.”

For Fiona, the hardest part is not just forgetting — it’s the loneliness. Life continues around her while she drifts at the edges. Friends fall away, conversations grow harder, and the discomfort of her reality leaves her increasingly isolated.

Even more painful is the awareness that remains. Alzheimer’s steals pieces of a person while leaving them conscious of what is being lost. Fiona fights to cling to herself, to the fragments of who she was, as each day takes a little more away.

She speaks not for pity, but to shatter the silence surrounding the disease. Alzheimer’s is not mere forgetfulness — it is a relentless unraveling of life, love, and identity.

“I’m still me,” she insists, “but I’m afraid of the day when I won’t be.”

Her words are a call to truly see and support those battling invisible wars. For Fiona, and millions like her, the worst part is not forgetting — it’s being forgotten by the world before the disease even finishes its work.