emotions
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The people in my life are my best medicine, and they are the meaning I can measure my life by.
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They say laughter is the best medicine—and for the most part, I agree. But like many things in life with Parkinson’s, even something as joyful as laughter can become… complicated. You see, for me, laughter doesn’t always feel like a gentle release. Sometimes it’s more like a rollercoaster that I didn’t mean to get on.…
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We didn’t just grow up together; we were in sync. Our thoughts, our games, even the way we moved through the day—it all felt like a chorus.
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So I dance. Not gracefully. Not even with confidence. But I shift my weight back and forth between two emotional poles, caught between caring too much and not caring at all. Some days, it feels like the worst of both worlds.
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Dear Friend, You didn’t ask for this. None of us did. But here you are—with a diagnosis that changes everything and nothing at once. And you told me. That matters more than I can say. I know how hard that moment can be—the words sticking in your throat, the fear of how it might land.…
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Let’s be honest: using a computer with Parkinson’s is like trying to thread a needle on a rollercoaster. With mittens on. I sit down to write a simple message and somehow end up sending a half-written sentence to my entire contact list. Because my finger twitched. Because the mouse took off like it was on…
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Parkinson’s is a real piece of work. It messes with your body in all the usual ways—tremors, rigidity, slowness, fatigue—but it also has a sneakier, more insidious talent: it steals your nouns. And I don’t mean obscure, once-a-decade trivia-night nouns. I mean everyday, embarrassingly basic words like pit. Yes, pit. I recently tried to talk…
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“Annie, where are you?” I call out as I walk through the house. I find her sitting inside a huge shipping box stuffed with pillows. “What are you doing?!” I ask with amusement.She answers me, “Nothing.” Nothing… that beguiling state of being that seems like it should be relaxing and peaceful, But for a person…
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Social gatherings can be challenging when you’re living with Parkinson’s. (AND Fibromyalgia, Autism and similar conditions.) During this busy season of parties and events, I often find myself reflecting on how best to navigate these situations. I wanted to share an open letter I’ve written—something that helps put my experiences into perspective and might resonate…
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The day before yesterday, December 2, would have been my dog Daisy’s 18th birthday. Sadly, she passed away last year, just one day after her 17th birthday—at 3 a.m. on December 4. I had braced myself for a wave of sadness on her birthday. While I did shed some tears, I found myself feeling mostly…
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Thanksgiving is upon us and soon many families and friends will participate in a tradition of announcing what they are thankful for this year. But many people have a hard time with this concept because they have truly had a hard time with their lives lately. Chronic Illness is a tough thing to ignore at…
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In Fall of 2023, I was introduced to the Day One Cinema Therapy writing program (via www.yesandexercize.org). It was a lifesaver, helping me find the strength to save myself. Through the 16 weeks of the class, I focused on a Joseph Campbell-inspired Hero’s Journey to uncover hidden emotions that imprisoned me. By naming my apathy…
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Ah, Halloween. The time of year when we’re all supposed to enjoy a “little fright” — but in my case, it’s more like a mini horror marathon, and I’m front and center without any popcorn. With Parkinson’s, my nerves are already strung tighter than a spider’s web, and every “boo” or horror movie jump-scare hits…
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But life, as Benny reminded me with a blank document titled “New Call Book,” doesn’t follow a script. He told me, “Your future isn’t written, and you can’t plan what’s next in a constantly changing life.” Annie concluded, “It’s back to Daisy’s advice. You should live the way Tena is discovering how to live. By…
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It’s a sunny day and the air is so light and refreshing. I can feel it through the slightly rolled down windows as we cruise down the road headed for home. I’m enjoying the drive because the road is deserted, quiet, and none of my passengers are demanding anything from me.
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I need to let go and live one moment at a time, but Parkinson’s Disease (PD) makes that difficult. My interactions with family, friends, and strangers remind me daily of my diminishing emotional filters.
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Who am I, and when did I become this person? Did I lose a younger version of myself to become who I am now? Is the process of transitioning from child to adult like a chrysalis emerging as a beautiful butterfly? It’s a comforting metaphor, but far from realistic. No, we stumble through the teenage…
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In the rapture of this moment, I felt Daisy’s thoughts, straight from her heart. She let me know that she was no longer in pain and that she was very peaceful and happy. She also told me that she was there because she had been keeping an eye on me since she died. She wanted…
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I have no filters or barriers to protect my nervous system. I feel like a raw, exposed bundle of nerves most of the time.
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“I grapple with making choices to the point of shutting down in frustration and great disappointment in myself and anger at PD.”
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It’s a fast and rickety wooden roller coaster ride of emotions, too. There are days when it feels like I am only an observer watching my mental control, ability to speak sensibly, and my general health slip away. This crisis of my body and mind changing due to PD is stealthy, treacherous and can be…
I have Parkinson's. Parkinson's doesn't have me! 