I've been thinking quite a bit the past few weeks about what it means to take care of myself. As I explained in this post, I'm convinced that self-care is not the same thing as self-indulgence. But I'm still figuring out exactly how it works.
It starts with believing that I have a self that is worth taking care of. I'm learning this exactly because of the indulgence thing. If I opt to indulge myself and sit on the couch and read instead of exercising, I'm not taking care of myself. I have a body that deserves to be healthy, and before anything else, I need to believe that so that I see exercise as positive self-care instead of a chore, something I "should" do.
Oh good grief, I can't believe I'm arguing against sitting on the couch and reading. What is the world coming to.
And food. If I have a healthy respect for my body's needs, I'll want to eat food that meets those needs. I'm not talking about living on kale and broccoli, just the foods that work for me based on my own 54-year experience of living with my body.
But instead I sometimes live in a state of denial where my desire to eat half a bag of chips drowns out my common sense. I know I will regret it later if I overeat. Unless I truly believe that I deserve better--better food, better health-- I will look at that bag of chips or those cookies and feel only frustrated and deprived that I can't have what I want.
The same goes in relationships. If I know--deep down solidly know--that I deserve to be treated with respect and compassion, I will respond differently to the people around me than I will if I retreat into victim-space, mute outrage, and blame.
You shouldn't treat me like that, fumed silently even as I continue to put up with poor treatment is the opposite of taking care of myself. Speaking up calmly and competently, or even walking away from a toxic situation, flows out of a healthy, rock-solid knowledge that I deserve better.
I was going to say a lot more today, but maybe I will stop there and write the rest another time, because the rest of it is easy. It's that solid sense of respect for myself and my own needs that I'm learning right now.
And by the way, I'm not necessarily saying you should never have the cookies or (God forbid) never sit on the couch and read. But if I'm doing that to the exclusion of what I know I need to do, it's flat out not good for me--not in a sanctimonious sense, but literally not good for me.
That's a good distinction between self-indulgence and self-care. Although there is probably some overlap in the area of mental and emotional health. I'm thinking of a stressful week, say, and then a bath, a glass of wine and a book and a refusal to answer the phone or cater to other family members. I don't know. . . sometimes it might be dependent on the immediate situation.
ReplyDeleteMaybe if you think, if this were one of my kids, what would I want them to do? Hmmm . . .
Yeah, that was the danger of writing this post. Because sometimes indulgence is exactly what you need to take care of yourself. The way this is written above-- maybe it only applies to me and this weird limbo land I've been in this fall. I'm pretty much out of the depression I was experiencing a couple of months ago, but I haven't yet figured out what I'm doing. I feel like I keep saying that--that's why I originally went back to grad school five years ago, because I couldn't figure out what to do. That kept me busy for three years but now--another three years later-- I still can't figure out what to do. Anyway. That's another subject.
ReplyDeleteOn the topic of self-care, after I read your comment I realized really I've been in this place where I'm not doing either--taking care of myself OR indulging myself (although I have been spending a bit too much time reading, I suppose that is indulgence, but it's my go-to activity when I can't figure out what to do next). Probably most people work themselves too hard and need (and deserve) the self-indulgence, but I'm definitely not working that hard.
The rest of this post--the part that I haven't written yet--was going to be some sort of jumbled up version of the Serenity prayer-- Give me the patience to not do the things I want to do, the courage to do the things I don't want to do, and the discernment to know which is which. But it would need another line: and the wisdom to know when to blow off all of that and indulge, because indulgence is necessary sometimes.