When you have anxiety, it never really feels like you have a rest day. Every free minute could be spent volunteering, or reading up on politics, or fucking doing jumping jacks.
My knee hates it when I run. Yesterday it swelled up to the size of a genetically modified orange. But I do it, because when I run, I’m incapable of thinking about anything else. Which is actually a really good thing.
If I have a day off I have to spend it cleaning the house, doing chores, exercising, meal prepping, counting calories. That’s right. Even the things I eat get calculated and thoroughly planned out and then logged into this little device that tells me whether i’m being “good” or not.
When you have anxiety, self-care goes out the window and it’s all about self-improvement. How can I be better? How can I possibly speed this process up a bit so I can get to the good part. Relaxing just isn’t really an option.
And I’m happy. I really am. And with myself too. I’m really proud of everything I’ve accomplished. The key is to fight the voice that’s always saying that I shouldn’t be. That says I’m not good enough, and that this life I live, shouldn’t be enough for me. The voice that tells me I have to wake up at 6 a.m. and get an hour work out in every day. The voice that tells me I’ll never make it in comedy. Etcetera, Etcetera, the list goes on.
So then, how you do you fuck it? How do you take the life-lemons and squeeze the shit out of them? How do you keep yourself from doing 500 jumping jacks at 6 a.m. and thoroughly pissing off your downstairs neighbor Deborah?
Well, dear readers, I don’t have it all sorted out yet. But I think it starts with realizing that you don’t have to do x, y, z, to get to the good part. That this is the good part. That wanting to be healthier and smarter and better is good, but so is watching cartoons and eating Dominos and drinking $4 red wine. You can do both. (but not at the same time. I’ve drunk wine while doing a Jillian Michaels workout DVD before and it did NOT end well).
Life is always going to be weird and hard and messy, so why make it tougher on yourself right? I know, I know. Easier said than done. But think about it terms that not everything has to happen right now. You can have a hand-tossed delivered pizza tonight and make a salad for tomorrow. (seriously, Dominos’ hand-tossed crust is the shit you guys.) If you’re tired and you just want to find a way to illegally download Jurassic Park, but you need to vacuum your room. Don’t vacuum your room. Watch dinosaurs. You can vacuum your room tomorrow, or never. Who even goes into your room?
What I’m getting at, dear readers is that it’s okay to cut yourself some slack. That self-care is even more important than self-improvement, and that can come in the form of meditation, a decent run, or pizza, but try and get a rest day in. Even if your anxiety tells you don’t deserve one. Because you do. You are a beautiful wood nymph. Go watch T.V.
XOXO
The Weekday Hangover
milky feelings 