Parkinson’s can be difficult to explain because so much of it is invisible.
People see me standing in line at the grocery store. They see me sitting at a restaurant. They see me walking through a parking lot.
What they don’t see is the battle taking place underneath the surface.
They don’t see the brain fog that makes it hard to concentrate.
They don’t see me searching for a word that I knew perfectly well just a few seconds ago.
They don’t feel the exhaustion that follows me around all day, even after a full night’s sleep.
They don’t feel the stiffness, the aching muscles, the burning feet, the internal buzzing, or the frustration of wanting my body to do something that it simply refuses to do.
Some days my feet won’t move.
Some days my balance disappears.
Some days my motivation disappears.
Some days my mind feels like it is moving through wet concrete.
Some days even my shirt hurts.
I spend so much energy trying to look normal that I have very little energy left for anything else.
Sometimes I cancel plans not because I don’t want to go, but because I simply don’t have enough gas left in the tank.
The hardest part isn’t always the symptoms themselves.
Sometimes it’s carrying a burden that nobody else can see.
There are days when my symptoms are obvious. There are other days when I look completely normal.
Those are often the days people understand the least.
Because looking okay and feeling okay are not always the same thing
Jo-AnneRamplings 