• Katharen Martin

Chapter Seven Self-Care-Ish

So, it happened. I missed a blog, or was it two? But that’s okay. The worst (I hope) that could happen of my failures, did. And now we’re moving on.

Today I’d like to speak to self-care, mostly my own, and for the sake of my accountability, because you know that’s a thing people always talk about.

It all started back when I was a sprout—a rather tall, angry sprout in my high school years. And okay, in my defense, there was a lot going on. Hormones, school, bullying, etc. The biggest thing that came to be, however, was the Satan-given gift of anxiety and depression.

Thanks, Dad!

It was undiagnosed because honestly, who knew? And it was very present in my internal self who didn’t like to share her emotions with others. Seriously, it’s already hard enough being a teenager and having to deal with the buttheads of the world without the ability to take much control over your life, but then mental illness was layered on. And so the saga began.

The saga of, “Eff self-care, I’ve got other things to do to try to make my internal structure more stable.” Or the secondary to that of, “I can fix everyone else’s problems, but I don’t have one single second of G.A.F. for myself.”

And that pattern continued until well into my adult years. I mean, so well into my adult years that just three days ago (counting today…) I decided to jump back on that “self-care” bus once more. Like it hasn’t left the station four-dozen times already where it usually stalls a day later because…meh…

Here’s the thing. I want to live until I’m an old lady and all of my hair is falling out so I can put on a purple wig, have an overly eclectic house where I grow all of the plants, and the neighborhood kids speculate that’s where the witch and her husband live. Because…well, yeah, that’d be where the witch and her husband live—ever want to be turned into a toad? I know just the spell.

So, I downloaded Apps in this glorious digital age (where I am suffering because at least this time of the year I’d be underwater in some pool drowning out the sounds of the world.) Thanks, COVID! And this App, and the other App, and the third after that are all here to support me in my journey of self-care. We’ve got down the health and exercise thing (Noom), the “you should be drinking this much water thing” (Hydro Coach), and the “this is when the sharks come circling thing” (P Tracker by Amila). Of course, these are all tools I must be willing to get over the “meh” to use to push my life into the right star-shaped alignment…and I have a serious history of failure with that.

I fail, a lot.

So much.

Seriously.

But because I want to be better, I keep pushing forward, otherwise, I’m going to be digging an early grave…and I want to be that terrifying old lady. I really do. With my singular black cat who keeps my pack of dogs in line, with my equally as old (but much nicer) husband who finally has learned to read the back of microwave boxes instead of asking me how long something should cook. I want that life. Simple.

And though life doesn’t turn out how we want often, I want to give myself the best fighting chance to reach that stage.

So here we are…at the self-care-ish phase (#2,435) of my life. And this is what we’re working on:


-Sleep Schedule (Okay, Shark Week is making me oversleep, but I’m going to bed on time!)

-Mood (Up and Up and Forced Up and Faking It Until We’re Making It.)

-Food Tracker (I’m one of those weirdos who don’t mind counting calories.)

-Exercise Tracker (I mean…I only have to do a little thus far, but I see this horrible thing lurking in the distance in wait.)

-Water Tracker (Please, no more liquid…I swear I don’t need this much hydration.)

-Writing Tracker (Yet to be implemented, but she’s a-comin')

-Self-Care for the sake of feeling comfortable with myself (Not a tracker, but one of the MOST important things here.)

-Organization (Slow, slow, slooow going. But slow is better than stalled so I’ll take it.)


And really, that’s so much stuff…and maybe even too much at one time, but we’re housebound so what else is there to do but completely alter our lives into betterment?


P.S. If you’re not using this time for any of this stuff, but are just surviving the day to day? You’re doing an A+ job, my friend. These are strange and awful times, and sometimes just managing to breathe through the day is the self-care you need.

So keep breathing, and please wish me luck.

Please?

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© 2016-2020 by Katharen Martin