To understand my state, you must first understand what I am. I am a Lithops, a living stone. My entire existence is an evolutionary masterpiece designed for survival in arid, punishing environments. My body is composed of two fused leaves, which are not like the thin leaves of other plants. They are thick, succulent, and designed to be my personal water reservoir. I have a very small, shallow root system that exists primarily to absorb water rapidly when it is available and then to simply anchor me in place during long droughts. My yearly cycle is dictated not by seasons you know, but by cycles of rain and drought. I am programmed to grow a new leaf pair from within the old one, slowly transferring my stored moisture and nutrients to the new growth, which is why the old leaves will naturally shrivel. This context is critical to diagnosing why I am shriveled now.
If I am shriveled due to a lack of water, it is because you have extended my natural drought period far beyond what my reserves can handle. My sides will cave in dramatically, creating deep, vertical wrinkles. I will feel soft and pliable to the touch, like an empty leather pouch, and the top of my leaves may sink downwards into a concave shape. This type of shriveling typically occurs during my active growing seasons (typically autumn and spring) when I am expecting moisture. It is a desperate, physical plea for a drink. My roots are likely still healthy, simply dormant and waiting. A deep, thorough watering will cause me to plump up again, often within a day or two, as my specialized leaf tissues rehydrate. This is the shriveling of necessity, and it is usually quickly resolved.
If I am shriveled due to too much water, the situation is far more grave. This shriveling is not a cry for help but a symptom of systemic failure. Overwatering suffocates my delicate, shallow roots, causing them to rot. Once the roots are dead, I lose all ability to absorb water, even if I am sitting in a saturated pot. Therefore, I begin to shrivel not from lack of water, but from a lack of functional roots to drink with. This shriveling is often mushy and discolored—yellow, brown, or black—rather than just wrinkled. I may collapse under gentle pressure. The damage is internal; my core is rotting away. This often happens during my summer dormancy or winter rest period when I require absolutely no water, as my new leaves are developing internally and external moisture disrupts this process and invites fungal pathogens.
To determine the cause of my distress, you must become a detective. Touch me gently. Am I soft and papery (suggesting underwatering) or mushy and rotten (suggesting overwatering)? Observe my color. Have I maintained my normal pigmentation while wrinkled, or have I turned yellow or brown? Consider the timing. When did you last water me, and what is my natural growth cycle? The most definitive test is to check my roots. Gently lift me from the soil. Healthy roots will be firm and may have white tips. Rotted roots will be dark brown or black, mushy, and may fall away from my body. They will often have a foul, decaying smell. This root inspection will provide the ultimate answer.
