I Took Three Days Off Instagram and Stress-Cleaned My Bathroom
...and I forgot the full moon is in two days so no wonder I feel bananas.
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Content note: brief mention of suicidal ideation
On Sunday, I decided to take some time off Instagram after the first week of Marlee’s The People’s Research Class. I wanted to take some time to be present and was also feeling creatively tapped. But since I took time off Instagram and didn’t tell anyone I was doing it, I got messages asking if I was okay (which is very sweet, by the way).
I wish I could set an away message saying, “I SWEAR, I’M FINE, BUT THE FULL MOON IS IN TWO DAYS WHICH ALSO MEANS I’M STARTING MY PERIOD SOON AND DAYLIGHT SAVINGS FUCKED UP MY BODY AND THE WORLD IS STILL ON FIRE AND I HAD TO TELL ANOTHER PSYCHIATRIST THAT I DON’T WANT TO DIE BUT I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE BUT I’M ALSO SCARED OF DYING AND I’M OKAY BUT ALSO NOT BE BACK SOON.”
I’m okay, but also not. I had a psychiatry appointment with a new psychiatrist. I knew when I woke up this morning that I didn’t want to go. My body was telling me it wasn’t right. And honestly, it’s not that I don’t like the one I have, but I reached out to a bunch right when I moved to St. Louis when I was hoping to find someone who used an integrative, holistic approach. It’s been weeks, but she finally reached out to me after she had been sick, so I thought “What the hell? Let’s try it.”
I am suspicious of holistic practitioners. I have been burned one too many times and, in my experience, holistic wellness can be just another code word for diet culture. This practitioner was no different.
The truth is that I am in pain… all the time. It’s hard for me to go on walks. My stomach hurts every time I eat. I get these weird bursts of sharp pain in my chest. I am functioning just enough to get the things I need to get done, done. But most of the time, I am just dissociating out of my body so I can live my life.
I feel my best when I am fully present in my life. I am also the most terrified when I am fully present in my life. My best friend, Nic, drove from Austin to St. Louis to surprise me for my birthday last week. In this pandemic world, an unplanned interaction of any kind would have normally sent me into a spiral. But cases are lower (?) and I fucking missed my best friend. So, I decided to be present in the experience of her being there with her, of us exploring my new city together, and dreaming what’s next for them. I was in pain and scared, but it didn’t matter because I was also laughing, crying, getting a tattoo, and eating good food on a park bench.
After the appointment that was incredibly invalidating and infuriating, I wanted to get on Instagram and scroll my evening away. But instead, I cleaned my bathroom. It’s always the place in my house that goes uncleaned the longest. I am terrified of cleaning a lot of the time despite being scared of germs. But I don’t like to touch germs and bathrooms ESPECIALLY freak me out because of my emetophobia. But in ERP therapy (Exposure Response Prevention), we are talking about baby steps to sit in the discomfort, not seek reassurance, and be empowered to do things on my own.*
*Note: One of the reasons I didn’t seek an OCD diagnosis for so long is because I *do* have some of the “stereotypical” OCD symptoms that people talk about. This is a reminder that it is extremely harmful to say you’re “so OCD” when you mean you like things a certain way. It’s that kind of stigma that stopped me from getting help for a long time. Which by the way, within 10 minutes of my appointment with the psychiatrist, she said, “Oh yeah, I like things a certain way too. I’m have a little OCD.” 🚩 I should have hung up then.
I don’t know what it was about cleaning my bathroom and being present in that discomfort of it all, but I felt like I was able to really come back into my body after that. I cleaned my bathroom, tidied up the kitchen, drank some water, realized the full moon is in 2 days, and then sat down to write this newsletter.
Today was both uncomfortable and illuminating. I just got back from a walk and talked to DJ about my appointment and I said, “A good part of everything about that appointment going wrong is that it solidified everything I know I want.” I was able to practice compassion with myself today. I feel empowered to take my care into my own hands and vocalize to my current care team where some things are lacking (which I did with my rheumatologist and was met with this book I am feeling hopeful about). I feel aligned in my values.
I am learning to trust my body to tell me when something is not good. I am learning to trust my body can handle discomfort. I am learning it’s okay to read a book very slowly or communicating with basically a stranger that I actually will not be going down a restrictive food path and do not believe in BMI despite a psychiatrist’s credentials.
Anyway, I’ll be back on Instagram because I miss my internet friends and I have a hot-ass photo of myself I want to post. Frankie said on her TikTok that she goes absolutely feral in spring and I relate. There are purple tulips growing in front of my house and it is a gift. The Midwest sunset have been unmatched these days. I’m sitting in the discomfort and am surviving it.
Pre-ordered Care Manual: Dreaming Care into Being.
I’m finally reading Crying in H Mart.
Also reading Information Activism: A Queer History of Lesbian Media Technologies.
Consider donating to the St. Louis Queer+ Support Helpline.
Making this recipe as soon as a plumber comes to fix the kitchen sink.
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Love,
