The word “self-care” gets thrown around all the time.
According to the World Health Organization, it’s defined as “the ability of individuals, families and communities to promote health, prevent disease, maintain health, and cope with illness and disability with or without the support of a health-care provider.” It encompasses a variety of activities and factors from personal hygiene, nutrition, cultural beliefs or responsible self-medication.
How do you define self-care? What does it mean to you and what have you learned from spending more time on yourself? Tell me in the comments!
P.S. If anyone’s interested: I Was Their American Dream author and comic artist Malaka Gharib is hosting a self-care zine workshop today at 8:30 pm EST. Grab a pen and paper, and tune in!
I'll start! When I think about what self-care means to me, I realize it depends on a few things: where exactly I'm at mentally and if my depression requires more professional help; how much time I actually have in a day and my bank account. Lately, I've been yearning a sense of patience as the world around my hurriedly tries to return to "normal." I'm trying activities like watercoloring and puzzles. Instead of calling or video-chatting loved ones, I'm opting for letter writing because of the sheer effort that goes into the activity—and the time it takes to hear back.
I think of things that help me relax but also help me heal. This especially includes activities I can do on my own that help me recharge. For example, working out, cooking, and reading are relaxing for me.
Self-care is a concept that fluctuates for me too, especially in relation to my depression.
Once I thought of it as a reprieve, for me to relish in small acts of indulgence, like enjoying my favorite dessert. Or it meant giving myself away to hours of escapism, just to allow my mind to focus elsewhere, usually in the form of consuming film and TV or listening to music.
But nowadays, self-care has become something of a burden. My therapist often asks, "What are you doing to take care of yourself?" Sometimes it's hard to answer. Depression has made it so that I can't enjoy the things that I used to for too long. I'm distracted. I'm restless. I'm uninterested. Extended periods of escapism somehow has lost its appeal, especially considering that nothing fills.
And then I realized that I've been passive with my life, disengaged with the day-to-day, and quite frankly, coasting on autopilot. And I don't want that. So, I'm learning to practice self-care again. Long walks help. Long phone calls with friends help. Music still helps. Sometimes prayer helps. I'm trying again. Did anyone ever realize that self-care takes work? Haha, it never ends.
I'll start! When I think about what self-care means to me, I realize it depends on a few things: where exactly I'm at mentally and if my depression requires more professional help; how much time I actually have in a day and my bank account. Lately, I've been yearning a sense of patience as the world around my hurriedly tries to return to "normal." I'm trying activities like watercoloring and puzzles. Instead of calling or video-chatting loved ones, I'm opting for letter writing because of the sheer effort that goes into the activity—and the time it takes to hear back.
forgiving myself for lazy and unproductive days
I think of things that help me relax but also help me heal. This especially includes activities I can do on my own that help me recharge. For example, working out, cooking, and reading are relaxing for me.
Self-care is a concept that fluctuates for me too, especially in relation to my depression.
Once I thought of it as a reprieve, for me to relish in small acts of indulgence, like enjoying my favorite dessert. Or it meant giving myself away to hours of escapism, just to allow my mind to focus elsewhere, usually in the form of consuming film and TV or listening to music.
But nowadays, self-care has become something of a burden. My therapist often asks, "What are you doing to take care of yourself?" Sometimes it's hard to answer. Depression has made it so that I can't enjoy the things that I used to for too long. I'm distracted. I'm restless. I'm uninterested. Extended periods of escapism somehow has lost its appeal, especially considering that nothing fills.
And then I realized that I've been passive with my life, disengaged with the day-to-day, and quite frankly, coasting on autopilot. And I don't want that. So, I'm learning to practice self-care again. Long walks help. Long phone calls with friends help. Music still helps. Sometimes prayer helps. I'm trying again. Did anyone ever realize that self-care takes work? Haha, it never ends.