Mental Health

The Importance of Self Preservation

I’m happy. That’s an unexpected feeling these days. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not constantly sad, I don’t think I’m depressed, and I’m not Rhiannon-downer. What I am is overwhelmed, at the end of my rope, and generally one step away from the edge of done. I’m drowning in that sea of obligation, and not doing anything particularly well.

Tonight I stepped off that edge. Done. D-O-N-E done. The-ants-can-have-the-kitchen done. Fuck-it-all done.

So why am I happy? Because there is a certain freedom in giving up. In telling work that I’ll not be in tomorrow because I just can’t even. In deciding that tonight I am doing what I want to do, and everything else can wait.

Tonight I’m putting myself first. I’m being extremely, unapologetically selfish. I’m drinking a beer while Lorelei sits around in her underpants and eats oreos. I assume she will go to bed at some point. I put extra cheese on my salad because what kind of crazy person wants cheeseless salad. I’ll probably eat ice cream >and cookies.

Lorelei doesn’t feel like brushing her teeth? Whatever. She wants extra time on her Kindle? Who cares. Rowan is screaming? Zach can deal.

My official diagnosis, according to me, is an acute lack of fucks to give. Judging by what I’m seeing on Facebook it seems to be extremely contagious.

I haven’t slept for more than three hours straight in a year. A YEAR. Oh wait, I did sleep seven hours one time. I got mastitis. The universe loves me.

The end of my rope is frayed and has been chewed on by a teething infant. It’s caked with dirt and I think someone set it on fire. And since I can’t seem to buy more I’m just letting myself slide down the rope that I already have. I need more room. I need to shower alone and pee alone. I need everyone to get their hands off of me and take their screaming kid-rage elsewhere.

So what does one do when there are no fucks left to give? Me? I take a day off work. I stop giving all the pieces of myself away and keep some for myself. I eat ice cream in the bathtub and make plans of heavy labor. I create, destroy, and create some more. I find the pieces of myself among the chaos of everyday life.

The tide is high right now, but someday it will recede and I will no longer have to cling to this life raft of self preservation. But for now? For now I take care of me. Everyone else can wait until tomorrow.

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Rhiannon Giles

Rhiannon Giles is a freelance writer from Durham, North Carolina. She interweaves poignancy and humor to cover topics ranging from prematurity to parenting and mental health. Her work has been featured on sites such as The New York Times, Washington Post, Parents, Scary Mommy, McSweeney's, and HuffPost. You can find her being consistently inconsistent on her blog, Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.

3 thoughts on “The Importance of Self Preservation

  • Preach it. I sent my children to their rooms with their kindles and a bowl of “stir fry noodles” cooked in the microwave. If they come out, I’m giving them candy, and telling them that I’ll go back into their room to give them more candy every 30 minutes for as long as they stay there. I don’t have a back up plan. THAT is how done I am. Candy. Infinite candy. Just shut the hell up, don’t fight with your sister and stay away from me candy.

    Reply
  • I love your Blog! this is exactly what i have been feeling in the last few months…i could have written these words.. they run through my head each week… its nice to know I’m not the only one feeling this way, or the only one who lets their kid on the iPad for an hour while i take a nap in my cozy bed upstairs… ALONE!!!! 🙂 we are awesome mommies

    Reply
  • Pingback: When Self-Care is a "Relaxing" Bath Next to a Bowl Full of Pee

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