I’m starting this post off with a little task for you. An imagination exercise, if you will.
Imagine you had a friend, and then she disappeared off the face of the Earth for, like, eight months. She was still retweeting #relatable content on Twitter (and isn’t afraid to say she shed an actual tear about the little granddad who ate green paint thinking it was yoghurt) and occasionally dropped a little heart-eye emoji on your Instagram pictures, but other than that, gone.
Now imagine you see her in town, in Starbucks or somewhere, with her headphones in, and you tap her on the shoulder and you’re all like “hi!! Where’ve you been?” and she faffs about with her headphones for a bit, and takes them out of her ears and goes “long story”.
Okay so now imagine the person is me, and Starbucks is, sort of, the blogging world in general (and if we’re being honest, you wouldn’t bump into me in Starbucks. It’d be B&M and I’d be carrying a bale of hay under one arm and a bag of cat litter under the other). And imagine that I’m so nervous and excited to be writing a blog post that I started the whole thing off with a very tenuous imaginary scenario to hammer home the fact that I’M BACK BITCH.
Essentially I’ve had a not-so-very-lovely time of it, and I couldn’t write anything. And then my hosting ran out and I had roughly 17p to my name so I couldn’t renew it. We shan’t dwell; this too shall pass, etc. etc. I can manage.
‘Managing’ is what I wanted to write about today. I was reclining in my luxurious bubble bath (for ‘luxurious’, read ‘actually remembered to put the hot water on so the water is scalding hot and burning my arse instead of on the chilly side of lukewarm’). The bath was a treat for surviving university this morning and a particularly uncomfortable employability seminar which politely reminded me that I am absolutely not cut out for the Big Wide World After Graduation.
But the bath was SUPER boring. I’d forgotten to bring a book in with me. I’d ran out of lives on Gardenscapes. I had nowhere to prop my phone up to watch those really satisfying compilation videos of people getting chiropractic adjustments. So I swished about in the water for a bit and made some waves (remember doing that when you were a kid and being so enthusiastic about it that your bathroom floor turned into an actual swimming pool and you got in trouble?), washed my hair (I’m one of those demons who washes my hair in the bath, I’m so sorry) and got out.
Did I put on a beautiful silky little set of matching pyjamas and do a face mask and moisturise my elbows and knees? No, I bloody didn’t. Did little bluebirds pop in through my bedroom window and sing to me while I brushed my hair and sang “When Will My Life Begin” from Tangled? No, they bloody didn’t.
I stuck on last night’s Dumbo pyjamas that are absolutely a size too small, and a pair of odd socks that I had to change moments later ‘cause I stood in some dog sick. But that’s real life.
If you stick “self-care” into Pinterest, you generally get the same sort of stuff. Wake up early! Get dressed up! Go for a walk in the sunshine! Tell someone you love them! Cuddle a pet!
I’m not impressed. Self-care looks very different to me, as a fairly well-functioning adult lady – a phrase which here means ‘can pay her bills but is left with roughly £14 in the bank at the end of the month’ and ‘has been known to eat 3 Greggs vegan sausage rolls in one go despite telling the lady in the shop to put them in separate bags because they’re not all for her’. To some people I’m sure these examples are wonderful and helpful and amazing. I’m sure some people have dogs that don’t look them directly in the eye as they shit on the landing carpet! That’s great. For them.
As we know (or maybe we don’t know – in which case, hi, welcome to the inside of my brain!), I’m not the most mentally healthy gal out there. There are days when I wake up so sad that I’m crying before I get out of bed. On those days, going outside is impossible. If anyone tried to tell me to go outside, I’d punch them in the throat.
So you see, self-care is subjective. There’s a sliding scale of sorts (try saying that with a lisp). Here are some of my examples that don’t include spending hundreds of pounds on microdermabrasion or putting crystals in your actual vagina.
- When was the last time you washed your face? Like, properly. Not just a baby wipe. Wash your face with hot water and a nice clean flannel. Stick the flannel over your face and walk around like a monster if the urge takes you. Re-enact that viral photo of the dog with ham on its face. Whatever makes you happy.
- Brush. Your. Teeth. Unless of course you’ve just had a glass of orange juice.
- Take a minute to just do a tiny bit of tidying or cleaning. If you’re anything like me, if you’re in need of a bit of TLC, chances are your living space is too. If you’ve got to talk to yourself while you do it, that’s fine – in fact, you get bonus points. Don’t do anything massive or scary like reorganising your loft. Start with a sock drawer, maybe. Baby steps.
- Put some music on and sing along to it. This is very important. You sing like you’re on The X Factor and Danii Minogue is going to press her golden buzzer or spin her chair round, or something. Can you tell I haven’t watched The X Factor for, like, ten years? My current go-to is the Waitress soundtrack because it’s really hard to be sad when you’re singing about unwanted pregnancies with a thick Southern accent. Promise.
- Fling your windows open. The more dramatically the better. If you look like a princess in a tower, you’re doing it right. Fresh air is nice, even if going outside sometimes isn’t.
- If everything’s a bit quiet and uncomfortable, watch something familiar on the telly. If I’m poorly, I watch the Pokémon anime and remember when I was seven and finding a sleeve for my Shiny Mew trading card was the biggest problem in my life.
- Play a game. I can sink hours into video games (my collection is organised from ‘most soothing’ to ‘most hysterical’ for moments when I might need to relax with a virtual farm instead of killing zombie Nazis) but if you’re not a fan, go for something fun and absorbing on your phone. I’m a big of Gardenscapes (not sponsored because I honestly think they’d be worried about me if they saw how much of my real actual money I’d spent on in-game bonuses).
- Make a plan, for when you feel better. Start small. Tiny, in fact. If writing down a task you’ve already done just so you can tick it off makes you happy, go for it. Write down something you did two years ago for all I care. Write a funny little note to yourself. I affectionately titled a to-do list with “do this today, bitch” and it was joyous.
What I’m saying is this. Be gentle to yourself. Wrap yourself up in a fluffy blanket, literally or metaphorically. Make the sliding scale of self-care (say that with a lisp again, I dare you) work for you. That’s what I’ll be doing, anyway.
littlebudget 