Self-Care These Days

The last couple of days had been rather revealing; giving me an insight of how bad I can be at taking care of myself, in terms of being a human who needs to breathe, eat and drink to sustain life, in the least. I found out that I’m pretty bad at that, sadly.

I just can’t get myself to believe I fully deserve self-care. I even find it difficult to sit down and have a normal lunch because I just skip the fact that I need nutrition to function. It’s now apparent why I’ve been so forgetful, out of focus and tired lately. I just completely forgot about the fact that I have a body and that my life is not only based around my heart and head— there are also some basic needs to attend to.

I forget to breathe sometimes, fully grasped in thoughts that spiral around my head, consuming my energy. Thoughts reflecting on current situations and circumstances; constantly conjuring up opinions and hypotheses about what is right and what is wrong. I catch myself in the middle of the day completely drawn, a chest vacant from the shallow breaths and a mind so tired and weak.

I don’t know what really happened. Those are the kind of slips that allow this sadness to creep up— that I’m not good enough. I even let go of writing my thoughts down in fear that they weren’t authentic as they used to be. A part of my identity is somewhat at stake.

I feel so small at the moment. So diminished. Guilty. But, I’ll get back at it tomorrow. I’ll make alarms to remember to eat something nutritious, on the table, slowly and mindfully. I’ll have my favourite lemon water tea in the morning. I’ll sleep a little bit better and wake up with energy. I need to commit some focus on my wellbeing and health before it deteriorates, like it once did.

Now I can admit that the downfall I experienced with my health a few years ago is all rooted within the fact that I didn’t believe I deserved care. I didn’t believe I was human— a shell covering a soul, that still needed to be looked after. It needs so little, just some commitment and love. That’s all.

I must not be so careless, I think. I’m going to develop a self-care ritual as soon as possible. I’m sure it will help. In the end, I forgive myself for failing this time. It needs practice, to make self-care a habit, to embed it in my existence.

I’m working on it, even though it’s formidably irresistible to lapse and creep backwards but feel within I know that there is only one way— it goes forward, and it’s beautiful.