Thoughts on Self-Care

(This excerpt was originally posted as a part of a post on IBS. I then realized I would likely reference it repeatedly and decided it needed a post all its own. It has been revised and updated but the original idea is the same.)

If I had a dollar for every time someone responded to my admittance of dealing with anxiety with, "You just need to practice more self-care"... ... ...

*Insert unamused face here*

Before starting EMDR therapy (and months and months into it) getting my hair done or taking time for myself felt like throwing cotton balls at a closed door and expecting it to open.

I'm throwing the freaking cotton balls and they're just bouncing off the door, and I'm sweating from the exertion, and my arm hurts from straining to throw them harder, and I have mascara running down my face, sobbing out of frustration and the stupid. door. is. still. closed.

(you may be thinking, "Erin, that's a stupid analogy. You can't possibly open a door with cotton balls." ... that's exactly my point)

It's because my heart-position (intention, motivation) was unhealthy. I wasn't actually practicing self-care. I was checking an item off of my to-do list of things I'm supposed to do and then shaming myself when I didn't feel like doing the face mask, going to the girls' weekend, or whatever I was "supposed" to be doing.

The problem wasn't a lack of self-care; the problem was a lack of self-love.

I learned from a young age how to neglect myself.

I watched my parents neglect themselves and was on the receiving end of their neglect and emotional abuse -- fallout from their own unhealed wounds.

As time went on, I learned to hate myself.

I didn't deserve to enjoy myself.

I didn't deserve to have a night off.

I needed to keep working,

keep striving,

keep proving my worth

otherwise I was worthless.

I still struggle with believing that people can actually enjoy being around me, for me, not because of what I can do for them. And that if someone doesn't like me, it's not somehow my fault, my lack, and if only I tried harder they would like me.

Sexual trauma speaks the lie that we're not human -- with emotions, needs, likes and dislikes -- but that we're an object -- to be used however, whenever, by whoever.

Neglect speaks the lie that we're not worthwhile, easily forgotten, an annoyance to those who are supposed to love us most -- not precious beings that deserve to be loved, held, nurtured, and cared for, enjoyed for simply existing.

Emotional abuse speaks the lie that we're the dumping ground for everyone else's garbage, here to absorb the junk, always providing more space for others, as our own identity continues to shrivel and dry up -- not beating hearts, tender and fragile, in need of encouragement, reassurance, and a safe place to rest.

I'm still learning that I'm human and that it's okay.

I am terrified of failure, because to err is to be human. When I do inevitably fail, it wrecks me. I'm not allowed to be human, to make mistakes, to have bad days, to need forgiveness, compassion, and space much less get some much needed time to myself.

So, no, I don't practice self-care, because I'm not there yet. I'm working on self-love.

Not conceit or self-absorption, but a healthy level of caring.

When you love someone, you want what's best for them.

I need to care about myself before I can care for myself.

And you do too.

I would love to go into a monologue telling you how lovely and worthwhile you are. How you deserve to fill the space God gave you in a beautiful, bountiful way. But if you're like I was (and still am most days) you won't believe me and, at the end of the day, it doesn't matter what I think about you.

It matters what you think about you.

Until we can address the lies that unresolved trauma feeds us and heal our self-beliefs, we won't consistently eat healthy, exercise, go to the doctor when we need to, take that vacation and actually rest, or any of the other things you'll find in an article titled 100 Ways to Practice Self-Care.

This requires the deep work. The hard work. The work we shouldn't have to do, but that we need to do. The past 4 years it's felt like I've been building the plane as I've been flying it.

I'm parenting myself and my daughter simultaneously.

I'm learning through caring for her, how to care for myself.

Because, you know what?

I love my daughter simply for existing.

I love her because she is and no other reason.

When she throws temper tantrums and doesn't listen and talks back, I want to pull my hair out, but I don't love her any less.

The moment I knew she was in my womb, I loved her.

The first time I felt her move, I loved her.

She wasn't even born yet, was doing nothing for me

(in fact her pregnancy caused quite a lot of discomfort, heart burn, heart palpitations, headaches -- yeah, I was not one of those women that liked being pregnant)

BUT I loved her.

I was scared out of my mind at the prospect of mothering when I had no idea how to, but I loved her.

And through all of this, I'm beginning to realize, if she has inherent worth, maybe I do to.

If my husband has inherent worth, and my best friend, my sister, my brother, that stranger on the street. If I truly believe that every human on this planet has inherent worth, which I do, why then do I think that I don't?

So, I'm working through the wounds with my therapist.

I'm parenting myself while I parent my daughter.

I'm telling myself all the things I need to hear, even if I don't believe them yet, because eventually they'll sink in.

And little by little I can feel the ice thawing.

I can feel the defensive shell cracking.

I hear the door unlock...

I get up off the floor,

I turn the knob,

and open the door.

I realize that I want to move my body.

I realize that I want to eat better.

I want to feel better.

I'm beginning to take care of myself because I'm beginning to care about myself.

So, if you have a history of trauma and abuse, the first step is to uncover the wound (or many wounds if you're like me).

Healing the hurt needs to begin at the source.

I cannot recommend counseling enough.

Eating healthy is important. Exercising and moving your body is important. Making sure you're getting enough water is important.

But these can be like putting a Band-Aid on a gunshot wound if you're not attempting to heal the source.

Unresolved trauma will continue to fester and infect your system until it's addressed -- cleaned out, treated, and healed. It's a poisonous thorn, lodged deep, providing the body with a steady stream of toxin. I know this from personal experience and this message is as much for me as it is for you.

Don't just manage your post-traumatic stress like I did for years. That stress, anxiety, depression is trying to tell you something and simply trying to make it go away without listening to it is just going to make it yell louder.

Find a trained professional who's willing, and trained, to wade into the wound and heal it at the source.

No matter how many Band-Aids you put on it, that poison-producing thorn needs to be removed.

Then, and only then, will your mind and body be ready to receive life-giving care.