Taking Care of Ourselves
by Hannah the Zebra
Yesterday I had to give myself a pep talk just to allow myself to take it easy the rest of the day after my lydocaine injections. Why is that? Why do I feel so guilty doing “nothing”? In my head, I know that doing “nothing” is not, in fact, doing nothing. Taking care of ourselves is important. I fuss at my friends when they are not taking care of themselves. But when it comes down to me, it feels selfish.
It is, in fact, no such thing. I know that if i don’t take care of me, then I get so sick that others have to take care of me, and that isn’t fair to them. There are plenty of times when I get sick and need others to care for me, even when I have been very careful about regulating my energy, not pushing myself, getting enough rest. So I certainly don’t need to add to that.
Sometimes when I push myself too hard, it is out of rebellion; a sense that darn it, I’m just going to try to lead a “normal” life. But sometimes I just get so caught up in things that I don’t notice that I’ve pushed myself past my limits until it’s so late. And sometimes it’s just my body doing it’s unpredictable uniqueness: I’m not sleeping well (currently), or I’ve been exposed to something just in the course of living my life, and my body is working overtime to fight against whatever the germ of the day was.
And sometimes my body just checks out for a day, or two, or three, and says, “Nope, not working today. Don’t care what you want. Just. Not. Doing it.
And sometimes………. well, who knows. But I’m resting today. My body isn’t giving me much choice. Dagnabbit.