The Self-Care Fallacy
Back when I had all four kids home with me, I found myself depleted constantly. My husband traveled regularly for his job, which left all of the family obligations squarely on my shoulders. I got it all done (or at least kept all of the children alive, fed, bathed (usually), and in their own beds at bedtime), but by the end of the night, I had nothing left in my tank.
I’d heard the old adage about putting on my own oxygen mask first, because I’m no good to my kids (or anyone else) if I’m dead. I knew self-care was important. So once every six months or so I would draw a bath at the end of the day, light some candles, and relax.
Except that I never relaxed. Sitting in hot water, worried about dropping my book in with me, incapable of getting comfortable resting my back on the cold porcelain is not what relaxation looked like for me. I laugh at myself when I look back on those days. I kept trying to make what someone else said self-care was work for me. That’s why I hardly did it, and once I did, I rarely wanted to do it again soon. Baths are just not my thing.
Instead, I would permit myself to veg out on the couch and stream shows until way too late every night, compromising my sleep and filling my brain with useless plots and contrived drama. The next day, I wouldn’t have sufficient energy to run around after the brood, so I’d sit when I could and scroll through other peoples’ (seemingly) perfect, put-together lives on social media.
At the end of the day, after a generous portion of ice cream, I’d pour myself that heaping glass of wine that I’d “earned” for surviving another day, thinking that might have been self-care. I didn’t realize that while it helped me fall asleep, alcohol significantly impacts sleep quality. Check out this article from the National Library of Medicine that talks about the effect of alcohol on sleep.
Mindlessly watching T.V., scrolling incessantly through social media, occasionally eating an entire package of cookies, and drinking alcohol are the ways the Devil tricked me. He told me I worked so hard that I needed the break. He told me I deserved the treat of wine or ice cream. He told me there was nothing I could do but stay trapped in this endless cycle of waking up depleted, running on empty all day, and putting anything but actual fuel in my tank every night.
By the grace of God, I have broken this cycle. Not perfectly, not magically. Somewhere along the line, God showed me very clearly that what I thought was self-care was actually self-harm. Like so many of our sins and vices, they came from an honest, good-intentioned place. I wanted to put my own oxygen mask on. I wanted to be a good mom. I wanted to feel good and happy. I didn’t set out to fill my body with unhealthy things, and I definitely didn’t intentionally avoid asking God for his will in my life. But that was exactly what I had done.
At the end of each day, when all my defenses were down, when praying and reading scripture were the last things on my mind, that was not the time to seek peace and recuperation. Actual self-care for me meant sleep. Plain and simple. If I am well rested, I function at such a higher level. My patience at least doubles, and my humor returns. I can laugh at the umpteenth spill I’m wiping up instead of screaming at my two-year-old twins. My self-talk morphs from constant battery to a more honest assessment of the truth. I am able to feel God’s presence in my life again.
When I wake up well rested, I don’t dread starting my day. I find ways to connect with God, and make sure he’s present throughout the day. Even though I rarely had an uninterrupted thirty minutes to do an official scripture reading and meditation or journaling, I found ways to let God be a part of my every action, as I talk about in this post.
When I’m feeling stressed and depleted, I know this is God showing me that I need a little self-care. These days, I stop and reflect on what I actually need. Sometimes that’s a walk or a healthy snack. Sometimes that’s a hug from my husband or my kids. Many times, it’s a 15 minute nap. I don’t always fall asleep, but just resting my body and soul in a few minutes of silence is vastly more restorative than any T.V. show, IG reel, or tub of ice cream ever was.
Copyright 2023 Maria Riley
Image: Canva
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