This is the most common reason I suffer. You might call me a "heavy feeder" and a "thirsty" plant, but there's a delicate balance. My roots need to breathe. If you plant me in a container without a drainage hole, or in soil that stays soggy, my roots will literally suffocate and rot. You'll see me wilt, but confusingly, it will look like I need water. If the soil is wet and I'm wilting, it's a sign of root rot. On the other hand, because I have so many flowers and live in a confined space (like a hanging basket), I dry out incredibly fast, especially on hot, sunny, or windy days. If my soil becomes bone dry, my roots shrink and can't take up water, even if you drench me later. I will wilt, my flowers will shrivel, and my leaves will become crisp.
Think about the energy it takes for me to produce millions of bell-shaped flowers all season long! It's exhausting. The potting mix I come in has a limited supply of food. If you don't feed me regularly, I will quickly use up all my resources. You'll notice my growth slowing down, my flowering decreasing, and my older leaves turning a pale green or yellowish color (chlorosis) because I can't produce enough chlorophyll. I need a consistent supply of phosphorus and potassium to support all this blooming, along with other essential micronutrients.
I am a sun worshipper. To perform my best and stay compact and bushy, I need a minimum of six hours of direct, full sun each day. If you place me in too much shade, I will become "leggy." This means my stems will grow long and weak as I desperately stretch towards the light, with few flowers and large gaps between leaves. However, in extremely hot climates, intense afternoon sun can sometimes scorch my leaves and stress me out, causing me to wilt during the hottest part of the day. I love the light, but a little respite from the most brutal afternoon heat can be helpful.
My succulent growth and abundant flowers are a magnet for tiny invaders. Aphids love to suck the sap from my tender new shoots and flower buds, which stunts my growth and distorts my leaves. Spider mites are another nightmare, especially in hot, dry conditions. They are almost invisible, but you might see fine webbing on my stems and leaves, which will start to look stippled or dusty. Lastly, watch for little whiteflies that flutter up when you disturb me. All these pests weaken me by draining my vital fluids.
My natural cycle is to flower, set seed, and then decline. If you let me form seed pods, I'll think my job is done and stop producing new flowers. While many modern varieties are "self-cleaning," meaning the dead flowers fall off on their own, I can still get tired and straggly mid-season. If my stems are getting long with no flowers at the end, or if I'm looking sparse, I need a trim. A good, gentle pruning—cutting back about a third of my growth—encourages me to branch out and put energy into a fresh flush of blooms instead of maintaining old, tired stems.
