Checklist: Are You Suffering from Cognitive Decline or Just Anxiety?

When “Something Feels Off” but You Can’t Name It

When people search phrases like anxiety symptoms, brain health, mental health issues, or go hunting on common search engines, likely, something is off. People will often say, “I think I have anxiety, what do I do?” but they are usually not looking for definitions - at most times, people are trying to decode the situation. They are looking for reassurance that they are not slipping into cognitive decline or that they are not about to fall prey to an anxiety attack. The fear does not come from nowhere. In my case, it lives quietly in the background because I have watched my mother move through a Parkinson’s diagnosis, and that experience changes how you interpret every forgotten word, every moment of mental fog, every small delay in recall. What might once have felt like a normal distraction now feels loaded. Anybody with some type of family history of neurological disorders and prone to feeling overly anxious or stressed has to navigate this conundrum - is anxiety or stress a precursor to cognitive decline, or does diminishing cognitive decline begin with anxiety-type symptoms?   

What Is Mindful Eating, and Why Might It Hold the Secret to Healing via Food?

Think about how people with dipping neurological activity perceive and interact with food - think about how those with Parkinson's relate to everyday food - this should make you reconsider the importance of connecting with the food you eat! People rarely think about how they eat unless something goes wrong. Digestion falters. Appetite becomes erratic. Certain foods feel heavier than they used to, without a clear reason. Only then does attention drift toward the act itself, as though eating were a recently invented behavior rather than something rehearsed thousands of times since infancy. Before disruption, meals pass unnoticed. Hands lift food. Teeth do their work. The body receives fuel with minimal awareness.

The Pencil Thing: When Life Pulls You Back to the Basics!

I could have never imagined that sometime later in my adult life, I would have to make a comeback to writing with pencils. At school, progressing from pencils to pens was regarded as a significant shift. It is treated as one of the many signs that you have arrived at the doors of young adulthood. As we progress further, lives take a more professional form where pencils are regarded as childish and pens, sometimes the luxury variety, are looked upon as standard tools. However, sometimes Life can pan out in such a manner that whatever seems standard or natural needs to be re-evaluated.

I am now returning to the basics, i.e., writing with pencils, and this is why…this is not about the medically documented benefits of writing with a pencil but about the psychological, more humane side to the story.

You must have read about my mom’s Parkinson’s on this blog. It is a cruel disease, and sometimes I wish I could lash out at the health research community as to why a vaccine or cure for it is still missing. One of the primary, most prominent diagnostic symptoms of Parkinson’s is Micrographia. Here, your handwriting becomes smaller and smaller, up to the point that it is almost unreadable. Signing cheques seems like a task. You cannot fill up a standard form since you write almost out of control, scribbling with such great speed that it looks as if the pen you are holding has a mind of its own. My mother had this too.

An Observation

As part of her therapy, the neurologist recommended going back to writing with pencils. According to him, the pencil tip provides more grip and is easier to control. For nearly a month, I did not heed this theory, fully assured that pencils are in no way superior to pens that I hoard by the hundreds. After a few weeks, I saw my mother practicing her signature with a pencil. Her handwriting, though not back to normal by any standards, had improved significantly.

I Make a U-turn

Over the next few days, I put using pencils to the test. I have this habit of scribbling ideas that I deem worthy of being blogged. This includes spontaneous ideas for this blog, too! The results have been shocking indeed. I write much better with pencils. The grip is easier, the alphabet is clearer to read, and it doesn’t look as if the words are fighting a battle against each other. Invariably, there were some real benefits to writing with a pencil, and even if you happen to be a working adult, there are small avenues hidden in our daily lives that allow holding one of the most basic and forgotten tools of learning and skill development.

Floating Nostalgia

To give company to my mother for her writing practice, I plan to stick to the pencil for some time. Pens, just like adulthood, which I chased with such fervor, can wait…sometimes, going back to the basics helps you realize that what you left behind wasn’t necessarily as humble as it looked. Living life in the present with an eye on the future is critical. But every now and then, a peek into the past can help you reconnect with your past, and sometimes this can be therapeutic. If you want to read about this, try to search the web for psychological or neurological advantages of using a pencil over a pen and not those related to merely better handwriting...

Revisiting this Post in 2024...

Like I keep saying, when you are around the 40-year mark, things often seem to go around in circles and come back to you in different ways. In this case, I am reconnecting with writing physically, physically, with the right pencil grip and all, to help my daughter. Vrinda, a 4-year-old bundle of excessive energy packed into a small frame, is into coloring up anything & everything, and while helping her out, I am revisiting my love for the tangible paper and the textures that cannot be felt via digital tools. I also see my mother losing her grip entirely, thanks to the invasive form of Parkinson's that has ruined her life. At my end, I still get anxious on some days, and on those days, I find my signature on cheque leaves a lot less convincing. However, every time I look at Vrinda, I know that a certain part of me, no matter how flawed, is falling in love with something so simple and eternally beautiful. On this note, I want to share another thing: this piece on Getpocket.com - "Writing Can Help Us Heal from Trauma" - is an absolute must-read for people who have never maintained a personal journal or a diary. This is the real stuff, and there is no layer of argument to it or any contradiction whatsoever. The truth is that when you write, organically or using the keypad, you connect and process things a lot better, including those that are bothering you. While this might not take away the anxiousness or sadness in you, it can make the day slightly easier to navigate.

Getting Sciency About it:

Content based on the article titled:

Emotional and physical health benefits of expressive writing

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  02 January 2018

Expressive writing is a therapeutic technique that has been studied extensively, particularly by a researcher named James Pennebaker. The basic idea is that writing about your deepest thoughts and emotions can actually provide some amazing health benefits - both mental and physical. An article in the journal Advances in Psychiatric Treatment dives into Pennebaker's work on this subject. His research found that expressive writing, where people disclose traumatic or stressful experiences through their writing, can lead to significant improvements in overall well-being. The studies highlighted showed things like stronger immune system functioning, reduced stress levels, and even fewer doctor visits among those who practiced expressive writing. So how does simply writing provide these powerful benefits? Experts think it has to do with several factors - processing difficult experiences cognitively, releasing pent-up emotions, and becoming gradually exposed to upsetting memories in a safe environment. While the effects can vary from person to person, the research paints expressive writing as an accessible, low-cost therapeutic tool with great potential. The next time you're struggling with something emotional, you might want to try picking up a pen. Getting those bottled-up feelings out and onto the page could be more healing than you think!

The Myth of Couples Growing to Resemble Each Other

Unveiling the Truth Behind Aging and Visual Similarity in Aging Couples...

The notion that couples begin to resemble each other as they age is a widely held belief, often spoken of in both jest and earnestness. This phenomenon, known colloquially as "couple convergence" or the "mirror image theory," suggests that over the years, the physical features of romantic partners gradually align. This article explores the science behind this intriguing idea, seeking to unravel the truth behind whether couples actually start looking like each other as they age. However, before we dwell on this topic, I just wanted to touch upon the fact that there is a bit of sadness and some inherent clauses that come with this topic. I see my parents age every week, and at no point, do they bear the same expressions or any level of physical similarity. The reason? My mom has been put down with Parkinson's for nearly a decade and the progressively degenerative nature of the condition continues to destroy her persona bit-by-bit. And this is what I am trying to highlight as I continue to come across so many scenarios where one partner is essentially the caretaker to his/her bedridden spouse and once the steroids, the medications, and years of chronic care start taking a cumulative effect. the entire notion of aging together takes a backseat.

Best Exercising Tips for People with a Broken Heart

Heartbreak is not just a metaphor. It is an embodied experience. People with broken hearts often describe heaviness in the chest, difficulty breathing, digestive discomfort, and restless nights. The nervous system is caught in a loop of stress: cortisol levels rise, heart rate variability dips, and sleep cycles collapse. Neuroscientists note that romantic loss triggers the same neural pain circuits as physical injury. To the brain, rejection and grief burn as hot as a wound. It is no surprise, then, that the body often becomes both a prisoner and a potential healer in heartbreak. Exercise is usually marketed as “revenge body” or “glow up” after a breakup, but that cheapens its true role. Movement, when chosen wisely, does not punish the grieving body—it restores it. Across history, cultures have used rhythm, breath, and coordinated exertion to move through grief. From the funeral dances of West Africa to yogic asanas in India to the sweat lodges of Native Americans, humans have always worked sorrow out of their bones. For the broken-hearted in today’s gyms, parks, and bedrooms, the challenge is not to sculpt for show but to move for survival. Here are the best exercise approaches for those whose hearts have shattered but whose bodies can still carry them forward.

Best workout tips for people cannot jump high

Jumping is an important part of exercising because it provides several benefits to the body. Jumping exercises, also known as plyometric exercises, are a type of high-intensity, explosive movement that can improve overall physical fitness and athleticism. Before delving deeper into why jumping should be a part of your workout regimen, it is also necessary to scan the pitfalls of it with one good example, commonly referred to as a jumper's knee. This problem is not due to weak bones or an existing injury. It happens to people who have been jumping a bit too much or those who are not used to jumping but are trying to push themselves into it. 

Here are some reasons why jumping is an important part of exercising:

Moving With a Body That Hesitates: Exercise, Parkinson’s, and the Work of Staying Present

Parkinson’s changes the meaning of movement long before it changes the mechanics of it. A step is no longer just a step; it is a negotiation. A stretch is no longer routine; it is a test of trust between intention and muscle. Well-meaning advice about “staying active” often misses this fundamental shift. Exercise, in the context of Parkinson’s, is not about fitness in the conventional sense. It is about keeping the nervous system engaged in conversation with the body, even when that conversation becomes halting, delayed, or unreliable. To move with Parkinson’s is not to chase strength or symmetry, but to resist disappearance—of rhythm, of confidence, of agency.

Parkinson's disease can limit a person's ability to exercise in several ways, such as:

• Mobility issues: Parkinson's disease can cause stiffness and difficulty with movement, making it difficult to perform exercises that require a full range of motion.
• Balance problems: Parkinson's can affect balance and coordination, making exercises that require standing or walking challenging.
• Fatigue: Parkinson's disease can cause fatigue, which can make it difficult for a person to sustain exercise for a long period of time.
• Tremors: Parkinson's can cause tremors, which can make it difficult to perform exercises that require precise movements, such as weightlifting or yoga.
• Difficulty with fine motor skills: Parkinson's can make it difficult to perform activities that require fine motor skills, such as writing or buttoning clothes.
• Difficulty with initiating movements: Parkinson's can cause difficulty with initiating movements, called bradykinesia, which can affect the ability to start an exercise routine or complete it.

Why Exercise in Parkinson’s Is Neurological Before It Is Muscular

Parkinson’s is not primarily a disease of weakness. It is a disease of signaling. The muscles are often capable; the messages reaching them arrive late, distorted, or inconsistently. This is why exercise matters less as conditioning and more as rehearsal. Repeated movement reinforces neural pathways that Parkinson’s progressively destabilizes. Each intentional action becomes a reminder to the brain: this connection still exists. Exercise, then, is not training the body to perform; it is training the nervous system to stay involved. This reframing is crucial. When people with Parkinson’s measure themselves against traditional fitness outcomes—speed, endurance, visible progress—they often feel defeated. When movement is understood as neurological engagement rather than performance, effort itself becomes the metric.

Rhythm Over Force: Why Certain Movements Work Better Than Others

People with Parkinson’s often discover, intuitively, that rhythm helps where raw strength does not. Walking improves with music. Movements feel smoother when paced externally. Repetition synchronized to sound, breath, or count reduces the cognitive burden of initiating motion. This is not a coincidence. Parkinson’s disrupts internal cueing. External cues—music, metronomes, visual markers—temporarily bypass impaired pathways and recruit alternative circuits. Exercise that incorporates rhythm works with the condition rather than against it. This is why activities like dancing, boxing drills, cycling, and patterned walking often feel surprisingly accessible. They offer structure where the brain struggles to generate it internally.

Balance Training as a Psychological Practice

Balance exercises are often framed as fall prevention. That is true, but incomplete. Balance training also rebuilds trust. Parkinson’s introduces uncertainty into the simplest acts: turning, stopping, and standing still. Over time, fear replaces fluidity. When balance is practiced deliberately—slowly, repeatedly, without urgency—the nervous system relearns that instability does not always lead to collapse. The body becomes less guarded. Movement becomes less defensive. This matters because fear stiffens movement. Stiffness worsens symptoms. Exercise that addresses balance gently interrupts that cycle.

Why Intensity Is Less Important Than Consistency

Many people abandon exercise programs because they expect intensity to produce visible improvement. Parkinson’s rarely rewards intensity in predictable ways. What it responds to is persistence. Short, regular sessions keep neural circuits active without overwhelming them. Overexertion often increases tremor, fatigue, and discouragement. Consistency preserves function quietly, without spectacle. This is one of the cruel adjustments Parkinson’s demands: learning to value maintenance over progress. Exercise becomes less about getting better and more about not letting go.

The Emotional Cost of Exercising in Public

Fitness culture is performative. Gyms are mirrors—literal and symbolic. For people with Parkinson’s, public exercise can feel like exposure. Tremors attract attention. Movements look different. Control appears uneven. This emotional tax matters. Shame discourages participation. Many people retreat into isolation, not because they cannot move, but because they cannot tolerate being seen moving this way. Private, adaptive, or group-specific environments often restore willingness. Exercise succeeds when dignity is preserved.

Fatigue Is Not Failure

Parkinson’s fatigue is neurological, not moral. It does not correlate cleanly with effort. People can feel exhausted before exertion or suddenly depleted after minimal activity. Exercise plans that ignore this reality often collapse. The most sustainable movement practices allow fluctuation. They expect uneven days. They treat rest as part of training, not its opposite. Understanding this prevents a common psychological trap: interpreting fatigue as evidence of decline rather than as a feature of the condition.

Exercise as Identity Repair

Parkinson’s erodes spontaneity. Over time, people begin to see themselves as fragile, hesitant, diminished. Exercise counters this not by restoring the old body, but by creating a new narrative: I am someone who still moves on purpose. This matters more than muscle tone. Identity shapes motivation. When exercise becomes an assertion rather than a prescription, it survives setbacks.

When the Body Becomes Evidence: Aging, Visibility, and the Internal Gaze

Long before other people react to an aging or neurologically altered body, the person living inside it has already begun to watch themselves differently. Parkinson’s accelerates this shift. Movements that once passed unnoticed now register as data. A tremor is not just felt; it is observed. Slowness is not just experienced; it is measured. The body becomes evidence of something the mind did not consent to announce. This internal surveillance erodes dignity more efficiently than any external stare. People begin anticipating how they will look while moving. They rehearse explanations no one has asked for. They correct themselves mid-action, not to improve function, but to minimize visibility. Exercise, under these conditions, becomes a double task: moving and monitoring how that movement is being perceived.

The mirror plays an outsized role here. Many people with Parkinson’s report a subtle estrangement when watching themselves exercise. The reflection does not match the internal intention. The lag, the asymmetry, the effort made visible on the face—these are not failures of will, but they are often interpreted that way. Over time, the mirror stops being feedback and becomes judgment. This is where dignity quietly fractures. Not because the body cannot perform, but because performance has become the standard by which self-worth is evaluated. Modern culture teaches people to see their bodies as projects. Parkinson’s turns that project into a public audit. Visibility compounds this pressure. When movement draws attention, people begin rationing it. They choose when to move, where to move, and whether movement is “worth” being seen. The result is not laziness, but self-protection. Stillness becomes camouflage.

What is rarely acknowledged is that dignity is not restored by mastery. Perfect form is not coming back. Smoothness may not return. Waiting for confidence before being visible is a losing bargain. Dignity, in aging bodies, has to detach from aesthetics altogether. Some people reach a quiet turning point where they stop negotiating with the gaze—external or internal. They move knowing they look different. They accept that effort will be legible. This is not a resignation. It is a redefinition of what counts as composure. Exercise changes at that point. It is no longer about appearing capable. It is about remaining in a relationship with the body without hostility. The nervous system, already burdened by impaired signaling, is spared the additional task of self-policing.

Aging bodies do not lose dignity by being seen. They lose dignity when visibility is treated as something to earn. Parkinson’s exposes this lie early and without mercy. Those who continue to move despite this exposure are not displaying courage in the cinematic sense. They are practicing a quieter skill: refusing to disappear just because the body no longer performs invisibility. That refusal does not make movement easier. It makes it honest. And honesty, in a body that is slowing down, is one of the last forms of dignity fully under one’s control.

What “Best” Really Means in Best Exercises for People with Parkinsonian Symptoms

There is no universally best workout for Parkinson’s. The best movement is the one that keeps the nervous system engaged without reinforcing fear, shame, or exhaustion. The best exercise is the one that still happens next week. When advice shifts from optimization to sustainability, people stop beating themselves.

When the Body Becomes Evidence: Aging, Visibility, and the Internal Gaze

Long before other people react to an aging or neurologically altered body, the person living inside it has already begun to watch themselves differently. Parkinson’s accelerates this shift. Movements that once passed unnoticed now register as data. A tremor is not just felt; it is observed. Slowness is not just experienced; it is measured. The body becomes evidence of something the mind did not consent to announce. This internal surveillance erodes dignity more efficiently than any external stare. People begin anticipating how they will look while moving. They rehearse explanations no one has asked for. They correct themselves mid-action, not to improve function, but to minimize visibility. Exercise, under these conditions, becomes a double task: moving and monitoring how that movement is being perceived. The mirror plays an outsized role here. Many people with Parkinson’s report a subtle estrangement when watching themselves exercise. The reflection does not match the internal intention. The lag, the asymmetry, the effort made visible on the face—these are not failures of will, but they are often interpreted that way. Over time, the mirror stops being feedback and becomes judgment. This is where dignity quietly fractures. Not because the body cannot perform, but because performance has become the standard by which self-worth is evaluated. Modern culture teaches people to see their bodies as projects. Parkinson’s turns that project into a public audit.

Visibility compounds this pressure. When movement draws attention, people begin rationing it. They choose when to move, where to move, and whether movement is “worth” being seen. The result is not laziness, but self-protection. Stillness becomes camouflage.

What is rarely acknowledged is that dignity is not restored by mastery. Perfect form is not coming back. Smoothness may not return. Waiting for confidence before being visible is a losing bargain. Dignity, in aging bodies, has to detach from aesthetics altogether. Some people reach a quiet turning point where they stop negotiating with the gaze—external or internal. They move knowing they look different. They accept that effort will be legible. This is not a resignation. It is a redefinition of what counts as composure. Exercise changes at that point. It is no longer about appearing capable. It is about remaining in a relationship with the body without hostility. The nervous system, already burdened by impaired signaling, is spared the additional task of self-policing.

Aging bodies do not lose dignity by being seen. They lose dignity when visibility is treated as something to earn. Parkinson’s exposes this lie early and without mercy. Those who continue to move despite this exposure are not displaying courage in the cinematic sense. They are practicing a quieter skill: refusing to disappear just because the body no longer performs invisibility. That refusal does not make movement easier. It makes it honest. And honesty, in a body that is slowing down, is one of the last forms of dignity fully under one’s control.

Parkinson’s does not take movement away all at once. It frays it. It delays it. It makes it unreliable. Exercise, in this context, is not a fight against decline, but a refusal to disengage. Each movement says: I am still here. I am still participating. That may not look impressive. It may not look strong. But it is deeply human. And in a condition defined by gradual subtraction, choosing to move—again and again—is not fitness. It's important to keep in mind that each individual's experience with Parkinson's disease is unique and that some people may be more affected by these limitations than others. Exercise is an important aspect of managing Parkinson's disease. It can help to improve balance, coordination, and mobility, as well as reduce the severity of symptoms such as tremors and stiffness. Here are a few workout tips for people with Parkinson's:

• Consult with a physical therapist: A physical therapist can help to create an individualized exercise program that takes into account your specific needs and abilities.
• Focus on balance exercises: Balance exercises, such as tai chi or yoga, can help to improve stability and reduce the risk of falls.
• Incorporate resistance training: Resistance training, such as weightlifting, can help to improve muscle strength and mobility.
• Practice activities that involve repetitive movements: Activities such as dancing or boxing can help to improve coordination and reduce symptoms such as stiffness.
• Be consistent: It's important to stick to a regular exercise routine to see the most benefits.
• Take Medications as directed by your Doctor: Parkinson's medications are more effective when taken in conjunction with exercise.

It is important to note that every individual is different, and it is best to consult with a doctor and a physical therapist before starting any exercise program.

References (URLs only)

• https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5712102/
• https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7055464/
• https://www.parkinson.org/Understanding-Parkinsons/Treatment/Exercise
• https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6336556/
• https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fnagi.2018.00109/full
• https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC8144445/
• https://aeon.co/essays/what-happens-when-the-body-stops-obeying-the-mind

How 'Leaving for a typical Work-day' can impact the quality of Life...do it better!

There is something very abjectly defeatist about the phrase 'leaving for work'

It seems as if you are leaving the holy grail of your home for someplace that will devour you. Further, most people use this phrase and their morning regimen in the most destructive manner, whereas the reality is that how you psyche yourself up when starting the daily routine has a far-reaching effect, affecting nearly everything, including your mindset, affecting the energy you carry back home, and how miserable or energetic you will be during the workday. While people have published long articles and editorials about how to start your day, things to do when you wake up, and how to manage your morning better, little has been said about the smallest things that can seriously dent a working day morning. My decade of committing horrible mistakes and finding out the truth at my own expense has made me draw some conclusions:

Parkinson’s: When Someone in Your Family Has It

Yes, it is a serious health condition and there are no cures for it but believe me living with a family member with Parkinson’s is possible. I am not someone who preaches a lot of stuff. I have learned my lessons the hard way. I have a long history of trial and error, repeating the mistakes and eventually realizing what actually works. My mother has Parkinson’s for the last three years. Yes, at times, things get too difficult, particularly now that she has suffered a hip fracture. However, I have channeled my energy towards helping her recover and manage her condition rather than waste time searching for answers like “WHY God did this to us?”…what has happened cannot be undone, so I might as well get on with it. Like some folks say-Life Happens!!