The crash-bang of me knocking the same bottle of lotion off its shelf in the bathroom every night. The excruciating pain and subsequent curse-shouting of whacking my ankle bone on the coffee table trying to get up and feed the cat. The unusual ache of that one sensitive tooth when I drink ice-cold water, probably from clenching my jaw too much.
All of this likely—and unfortunately—sounds familiar to you. If you’re like me, they’re sounds and sensations you’ve been experiencing a lot lately. Maybe so much so that they’ve become part of your daily repertoire and you don’t even notice you’re moving a mile a minute and that stress is creeping throughout your body, building a home there.
But I noticed today.
I noticed it when—even in what was supposed to be an hour of self-care time—I was speeding through clipping my nails with my jaw as tight as a trash compactor, furiously rubbing the bar of soap between my hands to get a good lather but still keep my shower short, and slathering lotion on my body as fast as I could before my skin dried out. And I had nowhere to be, nothing urgent to do.
This is not normal. Taking care of myself should be luxurious, slow, and enjoyable, not feel like something I need to rush through to somehow beat the clock and move on to the next thing. It’s almost as if my get-things-done-and-prepare-for-the-worst mind has spilled over into the wrong parts of my life.
And that is just one example of how I know I am stressed, tired, and all around burned out.
I won’t even waste space or energy recounting all the reasons why. If you’re a human who pays attention, you know why.
And yet, we’re still expected to carry on with business as usual, making slide decks and commuting to offices and caring for others and overcommitting ourselves, and also somehow pretending like we’re not still in a pandemic, or like it never even happened.
I’m not a mental health professional, and I can’t tell you what this is doing to us or what to do about it.
But what I can do is serve as a reminder that we are allowed to slow down. To rest. To go to therapy. To break down and cry and write or talk about everything that’s going on in the world to even remotely begin to process it. To even simply notice how fast we’re moving and how tired we are, and do nothing but acknowledge it.
To do whatever feels right to each of us in the moment.
Personally, I’m going to attempt to pay more attention to how fast I’m moving, both physically and mentally. And to how tense my jaw is. And then at least ask myself, “Why am I rushing?”
Sure, sometimes I do need to rush, but I also need to be healthy and savor moments with loved ones and take joy in the little things.
Overcoming stress in 2022 can seem like an impossible task, or even frivolous to suggest. But if there’s something you personally can do for yourself to lighten the load even a little bit, it’s worth it to try.