The Complexities of Self Care
Today, I spent almost all day in bed. I was sick. I was tired. I was in pain. Worst of all, though, I didn't want to admit it. I woke up this morning and I could barely stand. My spasms were worse than they had been in a long time, and I felt nauseous. I was determined to go to work though. I hate being sick. I didn't want to be sick. I couldn't be sick. I headed to work despite my roommate's assurances that I really didn't have to go if I was feeling so terrible. That my boss would understand. I knew she was right, but I was determined. I got just outside of my apartment building when I felt pain so bad, I knew I would never make it to my office. I knew, that no matter what I wanted, I had to take care of my body first, and my body didn't want me to be sitting up.
I went back inside. Defeated. I called my supervisor and told him that I wasn't going to be able to come to work today. He was super understanding. He told me he was sorry I wasn't feeling well, and that he hoped I felt better. There was no judgment. There was no drama. It really wasn't a big deal. Deep down I knew it wouldn't be. When I first started at my internship, I had a conversation with my supervisor, where he told me that there are three rules for the way you should live your life, and the first one was always to take care of yourself first. My supervisor, my roommate, everybody but me seemed to realize that taking care of yourself first was never a bad thing. So why is it so hard for me?
It's simple really. It all comes down to perception. I am still so afraid that other people are going to perceive me as too needy, as too unable to do things, so I feel like I can never have a moment of weakness. Growing up, I had to miss school sometimes to go to the doctor, and so I tried to avoid missing school any other times, including when I was sick. I didn't want people to see me as less able to do things than other people, and so I developed a habit of ignoring my own needs.
This habit grew. In college, I would do anything to get my work done, even if it meant not eating or sleeping enough. Everything took me longer, and so instead of just coming to terms with that, I cut out self-care. I'm still learning how not to do that. I'm still learning that getting things done at a detriment to yourself will ultimately only hurt you in the long run. I'm still learning that sometimes you just need to be honest and say, "I can't." I'm still learning to come to terms with the fact that my disability means it takes me more energy to do things than it does non-disabled people, and it takes me more time to get that energy back after I use it. That means I have less energy, or spoons, as my roommate would say, than most people. I'm still learning to be honest about that.
Today, I came back to my apartment and spent almost the whole day resting and sleeping in my bed. Today I took care of myself first. Self-care is hard because so often it flies in the face of what we've been told our whole lives. For me, self-care means that I can't always do everything I want to, and sometimes I need to slow down. Self-care means that I can't let getting things done get in the way of my basic human needs. Self-care means that food and rest are never optional, and that sometimes other things may have to be put to the side to ensure those needs are met.
Self-care is hard because it means acknowledging that you have needs. It means acknowledging that you have limits. It means admitting that sometimes you just can't. It means being human, and less than perfect.
I feel better now, and I'm glad I stayed home, even though that wasn't what I wanted to do, because it was what I needed to do. I needed to remember to take care of myself first.
I went back inside. Defeated. I called my supervisor and told him that I wasn't going to be able to come to work today. He was super understanding. He told me he was sorry I wasn't feeling well, and that he hoped I felt better. There was no judgment. There was no drama. It really wasn't a big deal. Deep down I knew it wouldn't be. When I first started at my internship, I had a conversation with my supervisor, where he told me that there are three rules for the way you should live your life, and the first one was always to take care of yourself first. My supervisor, my roommate, everybody but me seemed to realize that taking care of yourself first was never a bad thing. So why is it so hard for me?
It's simple really. It all comes down to perception. I am still so afraid that other people are going to perceive me as too needy, as too unable to do things, so I feel like I can never have a moment of weakness. Growing up, I had to miss school sometimes to go to the doctor, and so I tried to avoid missing school any other times, including when I was sick. I didn't want people to see me as less able to do things than other people, and so I developed a habit of ignoring my own needs.
This habit grew. In college, I would do anything to get my work done, even if it meant not eating or sleeping enough. Everything took me longer, and so instead of just coming to terms with that, I cut out self-care. I'm still learning how not to do that. I'm still learning that getting things done at a detriment to yourself will ultimately only hurt you in the long run. I'm still learning that sometimes you just need to be honest and say, "I can't." I'm still learning to come to terms with the fact that my disability means it takes me more energy to do things than it does non-disabled people, and it takes me more time to get that energy back after I use it. That means I have less energy, or spoons, as my roommate would say, than most people. I'm still learning to be honest about that.
Today, I came back to my apartment and spent almost the whole day resting and sleeping in my bed. Today I took care of myself first. Self-care is hard because so often it flies in the face of what we've been told our whole lives. For me, self-care means that I can't always do everything I want to, and sometimes I need to slow down. Self-care means that I can't let getting things done get in the way of my basic human needs. Self-care means that food and rest are never optional, and that sometimes other things may have to be put to the side to ensure those needs are met.
Self-care is hard because it means acknowledging that you have needs. It means acknowledging that you have limits. It means admitting that sometimes you just can't. It means being human, and less than perfect.
I feel better now, and I'm glad I stayed home, even though that wasn't what I wanted to do, because it was what I needed to do. I needed to remember to take care of myself first.
