Monday, August 18, 2008

Self-Care

A few weeks ago I wrote here about a visit to a cemetery, about healing, and about letting go of eight years worth of shame caused by one decision made from a place of self-care. I stayed home exhausted one Friday night, and discovered the next morning that my grandpa had died in the night, and I wouldn't get a chance to say goodbye.


That night started a new pattern in my life. Over the next eight years I consistently put everything and everyone that I cared about ahead of myself, pouring myself out even when there was nothing left in me to give, because I never wanted to regret another decision of that sort.


I've realized in recent weeks, as I've begun to seek to care for myself just a little that I'm terribly bad at self-care, and that I genuinely believe that others are far more deserving of care and concern than I am.


So, I'm trying to make decisions that take my own mental, spiritual and emotional health into consideration. And I suck at it, but I'm working at getting better at it.


What does that look like?


Well, right now it looks like making sure I remember to take a multi-vitamin with a meal once a day.


It looks like trying to be in bed before midnight, and taking my evenings slowly.


It looks like being willing to face a lot of stuff that I'd rather not face - like not avoiding some tough stuff because I'll be a healthier human being if I deal with it instead.


It looks like taking long baths, with a book that's been challenging me, because in the bath there are no distractions and I actually have to focus and let what I'm reading impact my heart.


It also looks like giving myself a break when things get a bit too intense, and finding a way to escape for just a bit into a novel, or find a movie that makes me laugh.


It looks like recognizing the tendency my body has to sugar crash, and trying to control that by eating regular small amounts of healthy stuff, instead of the chocolate bars that I crave.


It looks like remembering that the sugar crashes and cravings really can be controlled. That for three months earlier this year I fasted from sugar and chocolate, and managed to control the sugar crashes with healthier choices like banana bread and fruit.


It looks like holing up in my bedroom when I know that I need to alone.


And it looks like spending time with people who aren't draining, when I recognize that being alone is beginning to fuel the storms in my mind instead of calming them. People who can pull me out of myself a bit, help me to laugh, gain perspective, and refocus my thoughts.


It looks like drinking at least a couple of litres of water a day.


It looks like long chats with the friends who know me well and will hug, encourage and generally push me towards Jesus, discouraging my numerous avoidance techniques.


It sometimes looks like walks in the park, or painting my toenails, or eating chicken ceasar salad for dinner or indulging in freezies on long hot evenings.


It looks like trying to re-establish a tiny bit of rhythm to various parts of my life. Not hard and fast rules to struggle against, but something to provide a bit of general structure to what has felt scattered and disorienting this last while.


I'm working at it. I'm not there yet, and parts of me say I shouldn't "waste" so much time worrying about how I'm doing - there are others out there who "really suffer" - and yet, I'm recognizing more and more that physical, mental and emotional collapse will happen if I don't spend a bit of time caring for myself.