Saturday, January 31, 2015

Dare You To Run: Self-Care and the Art of Saying No

I said no to myself last week.  I've been having writer's block.  For me, writer's block isn't so much that I can't write--I can always force words, one way or another--but that nothing I write speaks to me.  Last week, I had time to write this blog, but I said, "Self, you need to take a week, see if it helps."

It didn't, but the point is that I tried.

I'm terrible at saying no.  Saying no to myself when I have set goals, yes, but also saying no to other people.  Going back to the post of two weeks ago, saying no feels like admitting that there's something wrong with me, that I am something less than completely functional.  If I don't say no, in other words, I am fine, I am on top of things, I am more functional than Joe Shmoe standing next to me.

The problem is, saying yes to maintain that facade means that I get even less functional in reality.  It means that I over commit.  I am not saying this is something that happens only to depressives.  Quite the opposite, I suspect this happens to plenty of people with perfectly normal brain chemistry who don't like letting others down or have a plethora of reasons for the inability to refuse a request.

That said, I think it wears on depressives more than the average person.  In essence this is "spoon theory."  Spoon theory works like this: imagine a collection of spoons.  Now imagine that for each activity you do in a day, a spoon gets taken away.  The spoons represent energy, the energy available to do something, to create something, to carry out a plan.  Depressives (along with other populations that are not the focus of this blog) start with fewer spoons than people not suffering from chronic disorders.  (I do not actually buy into the theory that persons without disorders have an unlimited number of spoons, we all have limits, it's just a matter of how far they stretch.)

So, essentially, because we have less spoons, we have to be careful in apportioning our spoons.  This does NOT mean that you should never ask someone you know to have depression to do something.  It does mean that a) you should probably consider how much you really need that person's help, and b) you need to not take it personally if the person says no.  Honestly, if it's someone you love and care about, and they normally don't say no, but they get up the nerve to say it?  Positive feedback is a really good idea.  Something like, "Well, I'm sad you're not going to help, but I'm glad to hear you putting yourself first."

How does someone who has trouble saying no start to do it?  Well, first of all, start small.  Start by realizing you have to tell yourself no some of the time.  Had plans to clean your house this weekend but really, really don't have the spoons to do it?  Tell yourself no.  Tell yourself you need to ask for help, or it needs to wait.  Tell yourself you can do ten minutes, but that's it and no more.

The next step is to start verbalizing self-care to the people you know support and love you.  A friend asks you out for dinner and you need a night at home?  Say, "I'm sorry, but I need to go home and take care of myself tonight.  Can I take a raincheck?"  Half-measures, or putting things off, is a great way to start.

Another half-measure is if someone asks you to help with something and you limit the amount of time you're willing to give.  In other words, someone asks you to volunteer, let's say, and you respond, "I'd love to, but I can only give one hour every other week."  It doesn't matter if time-wise, you can give more.  Spoons-wise, if that's what you have, that's what you give.  If you have less spoons, but you aren't yet able to just say no, then this is a way of at least limiting the deficit you feel at the end of the day.

The important thing is to remind yourself that you're not doing this to be mean, or because you don't care about helping others, or for any reason other than if you're not taking care of yourself, you cannot be a helpful, productive member of society.  You might be able to fake it really well for a while, but sooner or later, it is going to crash in on you in one way or another.  Maybe you get physically ill to the point where you can't do anything, or maybe the depression drives you to self-harm or complete inactivity.  However it happens, it's inevitable if you're not able to put yourself first at times.

Of course, all of this is a lot harder than just waking up and deciding you're important.  The depression actively tells us we're not.  I know some people who leave themselves notes around the house reminding themselves.  I know other people who have mantras they say when they wake up and go to sleep.  I, personally, have to essentially fake it until I make it.  I set saying no as a goal, as something I should do, and that reframes it for me in terms of something to achieve.  Everyone has a different way of getting there, but taking those first steps are crucial, because everything else will follow.

No comments:

Post a Comment