What The February is in the air?!

Note: This was originally written + sent to my email list on February 14, 2020. I’m posting it here because it inspired today’s Friday Feels.

This February has been the longest year of my life.

I don't know what is in the air, but shit has been tough.

Conflict seems to be rising to the surface, hard conversations are being had, and my brain is struggling to manage these things because of an intense fog that seems to have descended...and I know that I'm not the only one who has hit this February wall.

I was talking about it with my friend the other day, because I've reached a point where my usual arsenal of self-care tools just aren't doing the trick. She told me that she actually has a reminder in her calendar that February is peak S.A.D. month, so she's come to expect it.

Knowing that I'm not alone in this already makes me feel better.

It makes me feel more normal, and, reminds me that I can do something about it.

I spend a lot of time writing about healthy boundaries and creating sustainable Self-care practices. I even put together a little framework that I call The 4 R's. They are Retreat, Recovery, Reserves, and Revolution.

This week, I realized that I need to take a big ol' step into Recovery mode...because while I'm technically fine, I can feel that I'm starting to have some mental health symptoms that don't lead to a happy and productive place.

That feels like such a vulnerable thing to admit — especially because I help others learn how to listen to their feelings, and set healthy + sustainable boundaries.

Isn't the fact that I'm not feeling 100% proof that I'm a hack? That my framework is a failure?

At times like this, the perfectionist in the back of my head (and I'm not usually a perfectionist — I believe good enough is good enough...but sometimes Ms P pokes her nosy head out and gets noisy) tells me that the only way I can get up in front of people and talk about being healthy is if I am 100% healthy; as if I can be operating from Reserves at all times.

But that's not realistic because I am human.

And leaning towards Recovery or Retreat are by no means markers of some inherent flaw — I honestly believe that taking the time to pause and adjust takes more strength than continuing to go with the flow; changing nothing usually feels like the path of least resistance, and in the past, that's what I've done.

In fact, that's what led me to the Loving Breakdown of 2018.

I was getting the same early warning signs back then — extreme lethargy, loss of motivation, fending off anxiety attacks — but I told myself that I was fine and it could be worse; I pushed through until I hit the wall so hard that I broke.

And while there was so much to learn about picking up those pieces and putting them back together...I'd rather avoid the Loving Breakdown this time around. This time, I know what's on the other side of pushing through and I'd just rather not.

So what does Recovery look like now?

I reached out and asked for help.

I Voxed with some friends to let them know where I was at, and I started a Twitter thread to crowdsource some ideas outside of my norm. Then, I did the things.

I went to the gym and focused on lifting heavy (thanks to Ben and Sarah for that suggestion), I listened to some new music, and most importantly, I was reminded that I'm not alone when these pockets hit.

I made sleep a priority.

This was a toss-up between being fearful that if I went to bed I wouldn't get back up, and feeling called to my pillows and sheets with a visceral longing...I caved. I napped, I went to bed early, and I got z's until I couldn't keep my eyes closed.

I scheduled time off.

I reached out to clients and coworkers, told them when I would be wrapping this week's work, and let them know that I needed to unplug to recharge. I finished my days early so that I had time to decompress before the kids came home, and I did those things even though my to-do list wasn't totally checked off.

It wasn't easy to let myself off the productivity hook, but you know what's harder? Trying to hustle myself out of an episode; that straight up does not ever work. The voice in your head who is telling you that it will work is full of shart. Ignore that voice.

I celebrated ridiculously small accomplishments.

A tip from fellow tweeter, Alita! When a depressive episode starts to creep up, it feels like my brain breaks. I can theoretically understand the value of something like going for a walk in nature, and how it has been statistically proven to improve your mood...but it's as if the steps it takes to get out the door have become jumbled and I can't make sense of how to do it.

I know that sounds ridiculous to say (read?) aout loud, but it's like my body will not respond to my brain.When that happens, things like making toast and peanut butter for breakfast become worthy of celebration. And that gets to be okay for now.

I got someone else's voice in my head.

Audiobooks + podcasts turned out to be my best friend this week. (Thanks Kyla for that tip!) I think in narrative form, and on weeks like this one, that narrator can turn out to be a real B. My kind and gentle narrator temporarily lost her voice, so I turned on some Brenè and let her drawl my brain back to a compassionate place. And when I started to internalize that love...

I cut myself some slack.

I asked, what would I do if I felt a physical illness coming on? What would I recommend to anyone that I love if they shared that they felt the way I did at that moment?

At this point, I'm going to assume that there is no other person on the planet who will be as hard on me as I am. And I've been talking to so many friends who feel the same fog right now — every time I encouraged someone to be kind to themselves, I tried to focus that dialogue to my internal ears. And on that vein...

I'm reminding myself that this is part of the cycle.

The point isn't that life is always perfect and optimized and running exactly the way that you want it to. Those kinds of expectations will inevitably cause disappointment — and I don't say that to be a pessimist, because really, I'm not. I just side with the whole happiness-all-the-time isn't the point of life — but finding resilience in the midst of the struggles is where it's at.

So yes. Right now, I need some time to Recover.

Because I've been here before, and I've done the work to get back to a place of having Reserves, I know that I can do it again. Especially because I've got the support I need to make it happen.

And the best part?

When I honour my needs, I give others permission to do the same.

At least, that's what my friend Maggie and I were talking about via Voxer, and it led to a delightful conversation on her informal Facebook talk show. We talked about my boundaries framework, and I even shared the fourth R! 😁

One of the big things we dove into (approximately 5 minutes in) was whether or not we feel like we deserve to take the time to heal, how I knew that I was in Retreat mode when the Loving Breakdown hit, and how the tendency to minimize what was going on combined with the compulsion to complete my to-do list was always going to prevent me from healing.

**"It's not so bad," and "I'm fine" are fine until they're not.**

And if we aren't listening to our feelings — and worse, we're masking them by trying to hustle for our worth — we are going to miss those red flags until they're on freaking fire.

That's going to burn you in the end, and send you into Retreat mode whether you want to or not so you can lick your wounds.

Taking time to Recover is not weakness, it's wisdom.

It's what we are wired for on a cellular level. And if you don't intentionally take the time to pause and recharge — even if it's only 15 minutes at the end of the day — your body will make sure you come to a screeching halt...and I can guarantee it won't be convenient timing.

So. Today is another day with an un-ending to-do list and needs to do.

Take a moment in the midst of the madness to love on you. Stand in front of the mirror, look yourself in the eyes, and ask your Self how you really feel today. Don’t be afraid to answer the question honestly.