With Parkinson’s disease, that can mean many different things. I may be behind on my anti-depressant and can’t decide whether to laugh or cry. Or I’m behind on my Sinemet (carbidopa-levodopa) and feel shakier than usual. There’s no sense in listing all the ways and reasons I might feel different as a person with PD, other than to say I just feel different.
Sometimes I wake up one day and nothing has changed except my mood. I feel dry, or worse, dried up. I am thirsty for something more. Something greater. I am uninspired, emotionless; emotionally and spiritually dehydrated and thirsty for something to fill up the empty spaces and refresh the parched. This can be borderline depression. It is not a place I wish to go. It is not a place I wish to be.
A while ago, I spent two weeks up in Montana visiting my parents. They live right on the banks of the Kootenai River in a little town tucked in the upper northwest corner of the state. While it can be unsafe to get in the local river there, one can sit at the water’s edge and enjoy it any time and for as long as preferred. The peaceful lapping of water against the colorful boulders at the river’s edge is rejuvenating.