Today… again

Yesterday I was tired. Yesterday I had had enough… though the enough happened quite a while ago… I guess it just caught up with me… again.

Yesterday I was overwhelmed and consumed. I let simple words intended as good advice, to penetrate my skin and anger and frustration boiled from my core. I wanted to scream,

“Fuck you! Fuck your healthy diets and your exercise regimens. Fuck your 8hrs of sleep and your parenting books. Fuck meditation and any version of faith. Fuck every morsel of advise and tid bit of knowledge. Fuck good intentions and monumental efforts. All of it is for naught and bad shit happens anyway… no matter how many pews you kneel at or how many vitamins you take. So eat the cake, drink the cocktails and stop pretending that you have control. It’s all a lie anyway!”

Though I didn’t believe those words, I thought them. They bubbled up inside me from disappointment and defeat. That ‘one more piece of advice’ felt like one more empty promise from the universe waiting to happen, one more thing that I hadn’t done right, one more “You’re pretty good… but not good enough.” It wasn’t them, it was me. And in that moment I couldn’t see all that was right. I could only see inadequacy.

I didn’t scream those things that I thought. Instead, I held it in like I so often do. Sometimes I wonder with all the holding in I do, what will give first, my heart, my cells or my sanity.

Only this time I couldn’t hold it all in, and my self defeat came oozing out of my tear ducts- first one drop and then two… and then a stream, pouring down my face. I hate crying. It takes me to a place of vulnerability that is uncomfortable. Though I do it more when I’m alone than anyone knows.

I suppose the good thing about crying in front of others is that it always seems to shift the energy and it brings a glimpse of authenticity to the moment. Sometimes it also affords me words of affirmation from others- words that I cling to. And even though I hate how much I need them… I will re-read and replay them in my head a hundred times, bathing in them like a tub of glue, mending my broken pieces, until I feel whole, again.

Today the glue is still a little tacky… but the tears have dried and the boil within me has calmed again. Today is a new day. And I am reminded that all is not lost and blessings remain a bounty. The journey to ones best self is never easy or simple and it’s never a straight line. It’s a lot of ‘get back up and try again’s.

Though tired I still am…

Today I stood extra long in the steaming shower… again. Today, I turned on the sound machine… and in my mind, began building my meditative imaginary land of tranquility, again. Today I chose veggies over chips and water over wine. And I cooked and journaled and napped … again.

Perhaps tomorrow awaits tremendous joy and blessings and this shift will help me better receive that. Or perhaps tomorrow lurches another blow and today’s self care will give me the energy I need to handle it.

If worry is useless rumination of the past and anxiety is pointless fear of the future… then I have wasted far too much time in the wrong places. So, here’s to today… again.

Learning to Listen to Myself: A Lesson in Self-care and Self-awareness

img_7448I was a tremendously busy person not long ago… four jobs, kids-biological, step and foster, animals-mostly rescued (it’s a zoo), and a million activities and outside interests… like tentacles of a twenty- armed octopus, all tugging and grabbing, competing for a slice of me, drawing from me every last drop of energy. I was tired; but I was also to some extent, very content. While it was a juggling act, I was handling it. My job reviews were good, vacations still happened, and I was able to maintain loving and meaningful relationships and human connections. I felt accomplished- tackling my goals and providing for my family. And the nature and diversity of my life interests brought me a lot of fulfillment.

As for my stamina… somehow, for those 2+ years, it seemed, I was able to produce new fuel as fast as I was burning it. I think I knew it was a momentum that I couldn’t sustain for long. So I told myself… “Just one more semester to teach… One more house project to pay for… One more goal to reach…” But what I didn’t realize, was that by burning off each drop of fuel as soon as I produced it, I was forever running on an empty tank. With no reserves, I had nothing to fall back on when life dealt me a hand that would require every ounce of energy just to put one foot in front of the other. It was life circumstances, a tragic sequence of events that forced me to slow down, forced me to listen.

And it was Me, that I had to learn to listen to.

With no reserves, no time, a terrible habit of hearing my inner voices and not my inner-self….and…in the midst of one of my greatest crises… I embarked on the journey of self-awareness, because if I didn’t… I wasn’t going to make it out in one piece.

The first step in this process was the initiation of self-care. Yes that’s right… the person who often blogs about grief and tragedy and taking care of other people was TERRIBLE at self-care. Sure, I had writing and an average of two travel escapades a year… but even those, I performed with high standards that I placed upon myself. Blogging is not the same as free and unedited writing and traveling with typed itineraries is not a pick-up and go, sit and relax kind of vacation. The two things I attributed to self-care, I discovered, hardly qualified as such.

I had to find new ways of being kind to myself.

It started with cutting back on work… drastically. I also stopped my kids’ extracurricular activities- the non-stop running around was wearing us all out. With less money coming in, cutting costs also made sense. For my child who needed the physical outlet- good ol’ fashioned bike riding and running filled the gap; and we supplemented with add-on weekend activities such as rock- climbing, when we felt up to it.

I learned how to say “No”. “No” to activities that were too much to take on. “No” to people that added stress or drama or who simply didn’t feed calm into my soul. Self-preservation does a really good job at helping to define relationships and life’s priorities.

But those actions merely gave me back time… the next step in my journey, was filling that time with activities that nurtured my body and soul.

So I started doing things that allowed my mind brief escapes from the stress, without completely avoiding it. I painted rocks. I took hikes in the woods and stopped to listen to the birds and rushing water. I picked up an adult coloring book and began journaling. Instead of structured blog posts, I got back into writing poetry. I started taking baths- the ones that are extra hot and extra long and have nothing to do with cleaning and everything to do with relaxation. I learned various relaxation and meditation techniques and began incorporating them into my daily life. And my husband and I even took a four day escape to Puerto Rico where, gasp I had no itinerary and spent most of my time swinging in a hammock and listening to the leaves rustle and the frogs sing.

All of those activities were lovely and gave me the mindless escape that I was just now learning at nearly 38 years old. However, because my inner voice is particularly critical when I don’t feel productive, I also needed to find self-care activities that served a purpose beyond my immediate sense of self and was geared more towards my goal-oriented and complex self. Acknowledging that my many roles all contribute to my fulfillment and well-being, I chose to extend myself only where I felt at ease to do so.

So, to not completely neglect my goal of professional writing, I published and submitted some of my poems to writing contests. To continue feeling fulfilled as a mother, I brought the kids hiking and invited them to paint with me- but instead of making it all about them and keeping a fast pace, I kept painting after they had stopped because I was enjoying it. I had them pause and listen to the sounds of nature too. I’d park myself on a cool rock while they played happily in the river, with no schedule, no rush to get back home. And I also did a lot of cooking. Not only did cooking provide me a preoccupation, but it also filled my need to nurture-as I was feeding my family and also cut down on the cost of buying out. Not to mention, it was healthier too!

And healthy matters when it comes to self-care. During this time, I cut back drastically on alcohol-going dry for several months and then restarting with limits that I imposed on myself. I increased my water intake. And I re-focused on my diet-not to cut calories, but to ensure that the foods I was consuming were feeding my body’s needs. It’s hard to eat your best when you work 60 hour weeks, so I took advantage of the decrease in work hours to make better food choices, for both myself and my family.

Lastly, and probably most importantly, I added sleep. After 15 years of nightshift, chronic sleep deprivation was something I had become accustomed too. I sacrificed sleep every day to be present- as the mom, wife, friend, family member and person that I wanted to be. “Fear of missing out” is a real struggle for people who work opposite hours of the rest of the world. But it is well documented that that lack of sleep is not only associated with errors and accidents, but also with depression, anxiety, irritability, low productivity, decreased creativity and poor coping skills. So I started making sleep a priority- 8 hours on my nights off and consistent naps during the day. (Post-work day sleeping was harder to control, but I did my best to maximize it).

What I came to realize after all of this self-care was that for the years I put-off taking care of myself, not only did I suffer, but I was less pleasant to be around. So the super-mom, super-wife, super-nurse I was trying to be, was less focused and more irritable without self-care. Where I once feared that self-care would make me inadequate, it actually made me better.

But on an even grander scale, self-care taught me how to listen to myself. After months of going through the motions of putting myself to bed earlier, eating healthier and meditating… I became more in-tune with my body and my needs. I learned how to feel on a deeper level and how to differentiate those new feelings, and then, how to act appropriately.

I learned that there was a difference between feeling tired and feeling unmotivated. When I felt tired, it meant my body needed rest and whenever possible, I tried to fit in a nap or get myself into bed sooner. When I felt unmotivated however, I kicked myself in the butt to keep going, all the while listening to my inner-self and acknowledging what barrier was present that was causing me to feel unmotivated.

I learned the difference in eating/drinking for blind comfort and necessity, and eating/drinking for nourishment and enjoyment. It is easy to fall into the trap of over-eating, poor eating or alcohol abuse when we are stressed or grieving. But when we shift our focus to nourishment and listen to what our bodies are asking for, we feed it what it needs. Your craving for citrus, likely means you need some vit. C, salads-vitamins, minerals and fiber and craving red meat, some iron. Don’t get me wrong, while I truly believe in the power of good food, I still love me a sloppy steak and cheese, a crisp gin and tonic and a glass of Chardonnay. And I found this new peanut butter and jelly cereal that is my new guilty pleasure and I allow myself a cup when I’m craving it. Self-care is honoring ourselves, not abstaining from everything. Moderation is key. And making the effort to appreciate the food we are eating and taking note of how it tastes and makes us feel, allows that food to not only feed our bodies, but to feed our souls.

I learned to notice when I felt stressed or anxious, and to stop in that moment and breathe or briefly meditate rather than to ignore my feelings and allow those negative emotions to wreack havoc on my body. Consistently feeling negative emotions and carrying high levels of stress are well documented to not only put one at high risk for depression and anxiety, but can also have very negative physical consequences, such as high blood pressure, GI disorders, heart disease and a multitude of other serious health problems. Not to mention, bottling them up and allowing those feelings to build, often leads to a mental break-down and going into complete shut-down mode. And that is no good!

Equally, I also learned to notice when I felt happy or peaceful. I learned to appreciate that feeling and revel in it, taking notice of the goodness that it carried. I learned to listen to my emotions and to honor them instead of simply reacting to them. “Mindfulness”, some would call this.

I found myself on this journey due to necessity and out of complete self-preservation. However, I regret that I hadn’t learn to listen earlier. I am sorry that it took a crisis to make me realize that coping without any reserves is nearly impossible when tragedy strikes. And I encourage anyone else who is running on fumes, to heed this advice as well.

We never know what awful secrets life has waiting around the corner. Make “You” a priority right now!

With a meditation track and a hot bath instead of a quick shower, I am still a bad-ass, strong and resilient woman. With two part-time jobs now instead of four, I am and always have been, enough. And my kids are still well-rounded without their half-dozen extra-curriculars. Self-care doesn’t make us princesses, it makes us smart. It makes us more functional, more effective and more pleasant to be around. I hope to one day add back in some of the work hours, interests and activities that I had to cut-out in the past, because many of them brought me a good deal of fulfillment (not to mention, more cash to play with, lol).

But for now, I’m still learning to listen… because if I can’t hear me, I can’t hear others. And if I’m not willing to listen to myself, how in the hell can I expect anyone else to hear me.

This world…I,  was not born to live in silence. And life is a gift to be cherished and cared for, not casually spent. Take time to listen…and cherish yourself right now.

img_7376

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not now

img_5933-2.jpg

Clinking the last dish into the drainer, she dries her hands and the single tear running down her cheek. “Self care” she hears her therapist say, in the echoes of her ever chattering mind.

Walking past the unvacuumed floors and today’s untended mail, she makes her way to the washroom and draws herself a bath. Bending over to place the stopper, steam drifts towards her face…and another tear falls, joining the tiny ocean she is building.

The same clothes she’s been wearing for two days now, falls to the floor. Stepping into the hot liquid, she remembers the mound of laundry waiting for her…“Not now”, she thinks.

Saturated and soaking in the steamy bath, islands of bubbles float around her body like lonely continents and collect at her breasts. The warm water soothes her aching muscles, releasing the pain from her soft tissue and pushing it into the bony prominences of her spine that lies flat against the hard bottom of the bathtub. Plump, pink feet propped on the stone wall in front of her, she judges their pudgy appearance, yet, welcomes the cool air that envelops her lower extremities, a reprieve from the heat that her body is soaked in.

She is tired.

She wishes the walls of this tub would melt away and that the water were an ocean that she could float away in.

She wishes that lying down would relieve the weight she’s been carrying on her shoulders, as if it were a backpack…weight that feels extra heavy today.

Closing her eyes, she imagines that weight falling backwards into the white walls of the tub, giving her small frame and her soul a break for just a moment. And she floats, suspended in the warm, soapy basin.

The un-quiet of her mind quickly opens her eyes again and staring at the ceiling, she notices a spot of mildew. Her mind wanders to another task that needs tending; but she takes that thought and puts it on a leaf in her mind and watches it float down the river…“Not now…” she whispers.

“Not now” when the office calls for yet another “favor”, “Not now” when her mother starts to criticize, “Not now” when a girlfriend comes just to gossip, “Not now” when life asks for more than she can give.

Now, she tends to her “self”. Now, she takes a break. Now, she lets her body rest…and begs her mind to do the same. Now, she starts to heal.

She is not a laggard. She is a castaway who has given every ounce of energy her body could produce. And she is exhausted. Swimming without a life raft, tossed like debris in the angry seas of life, storms raging around her, head bobbing, she has surfaced from the crashing waves, but she is choking. In a moment of desperation, she reaches for a passing piece of driftwood and clutching it, she collapses. She is in survival mode.

She wishes it hadn’t come to this. She wishes it weren’t such a heavy blow which brought her to realize her self-worth…and self-preservation. She wishes she had reached for help sooner. She wishes she had saved more reserves for the swim. She wishes she felt more sure of the land she was floating towards.

Nonetheless, she is floating. After she rests, she will swim.

And then, one day, one day when her feet once again feel earth, she will run.

But not now

Now, under the moon’s gentle light…in the quiet of an empty house, despite every lie the universe tries to whisper…she tells her self… “You are enough…right now.”