I am someone who experiences dysregulation on a fairly regular basis.
It's something I've dealt with or didn't deal with in my younger years and I struggled
as a result.
The tough times were extremely tough and translated into feelings living within me that caused
me physical pain.
When you're not taught at a young age how to manage these things to set them free, well
it wears you down, it wreaks havoc, and it keeps you feeling like your feet are never
quite touching solid ground.
These are things that I had to learn about myself well into adulthood, and though I could
feel shame about this, I simply choose not to.
This is one of the few times where it seems that I am able to make the decision and stick
to it.
I find it hard to remember what I need in the thick of it, but I do get there eventually.
Gentle reminders that I am still learning how to do this in the best ways possible for
me.
To get started at any time is better than never starting at all.
I often tell myself, oh yeah, I didn't do this today, and then it makes sense why I haven't
been feeling well emotionally.
These little things that sound silly, but really do make the world of a difference.
Hard to believe that one could forget them, hey?
If you know anything about the experience of being dysregulated though, you'll understand
completely.
It can be debilitating.
The first thing that I do when I feel overwhelmed with a restless mind that can't seem to sit
still due to internal discomfort is to take inventory of my surroundings.
I have learned that I do not feel safe in my space if things are not as they should
be.
For me, that means disheveled environments, messy, disorganized items and spaces, sends
me for a loop.
The first step then is to ensure that my space feels safe for me to exist within.
If I want my mind clutter to clear up, I just can't be among physical clutter.
This looks a lot like cleaning and organizing.
I know that I am someone that if I do not stay on top of regular cleaning, regular organization,
it can quickly fall into disarray, and that alone sometimes causes me to feel itchy, yucky,
dirty.
That may be a strange way to describe how I feel, but it's a pretty accurate description.
I started implementing a routine or rule for myself when I started trying to better take
care of myself, which includes regularly picking up after things before I sit down, before
I get comfortable to do the next thing.
By the time things are in disarray, because of my routine, it means that it isn't likely
that every item I own needs to be categorized or restocked, but even the slightest disorganization
can cause it to feel like such a daunting task all the same.
In those moments, I don't let myself think about it or argue.
I don't give myself a second to resist.
It's almost as though I go into a sort of robot mode.
There are times where I do need to talk myself into it, but it's usually task by task.
Okay, pick this item up, put it back where it belongs.
Once I get started, I get distracted by the next item nearby that isn't where it belongs,
that also needs attention, and it just goes from there.
It's always the getting started that gets to me.
I start wherever I feel like it.
I don't force myself to start in any specific order.
I just do.
I look at something, and I think, this ain't it, and I tend to it.
I'll wash the floor, then I'll do the dishes, clean the sink.
If I happen to notice I've forgotten something along the way, I will just keep going or I
come back to it.
Dry the dishes, put them where they belong, tuck things away into their designated spaces,
so I don't have to see them, so I feel less overwhelmed.
What a significant difference it makes.
Once it's done, I take a look around.
What is it that I see, and how do I feel about my space now?
And then I go from there.
Often times, I feel like the chaos of my mind, the constant chatter, seems to slow down a
bit or decreases in how loud it seemed to sound at the start.
It doesn't fix everything, but it's a great starting point.
It enables me to think a bit more clearly about what else I need to remember, to remind
myself of.
Where else can I implement seemingly simple tasks to improve my current mental state?
This might sound weird and maybe a little gross.
If you're not somebody who suffers in this way, but I find I need to check in with myself
about my hygiene, showering regularly can be a struggle when things aren't looking
well, when the mental stores of energy are depleted depending on what's happening in
my life.
It's not to say that I don't have hygiene at all, but there are times where I know that
I am struggling because I am aware it's been a few days since I last washed up.
Sometimes it isn't even that it's been more than just a day.
I may not even need one per society's standards, and whatever those are, I don't actually
know.
I just know that for me, showering is a task that for some reason takes up a lot of mental
and physical energy.
Don't ask me why, I don't know the mechanisms or the reasons behind it, but it's just how
it is.
I also know that once I am in there, I love the feeling of hot water running all over
my body, and I almost always find myself doing grounding exercises as a natural part of just
being in the shower.
This is something I did even before I learned about grounding and breathing.
I stand, I feel the hot water envelop me as though it were a loving embrace.
I breathe in the humid air, which feels like it opens up my lungs.
I admire the way drops form and stay on the shower walls.
This keeps me in the present moment.
My mind is blank, free of whatever was troubling me prior to showering.
I know that showering absolutely makes me feel better, but I hate having to get prepared
to do it, to convince myself to go there.
So when I'm in the thick of it, I remind myself gently that showering does make a difference.
I think about how good it feels, the benefits I get from it, and then I agree with myself.
It might take a while, I might be slow to move, but once I'm in the shower, oh man
does it feel good.
I tell myself, you were right, I did need this.
Something else that can make a difference in a night or day way is movement.
I'm sure that sounds typical.
Oh yeah, of course it does, but for me, it's so vast.
It has to be something that I genuinely enjoy.
It's important to note, this is something I am inclined towards.
When I'm restless, my body itches for me to move it.
I find myself struggling to sit still.
This is how I know movement is beneficial.
I know in this mental state it isn't a form of punishment or an obligation.
This must be something that I thoroughly enjoy, and it must be something that feels indulgent.
No surprise, hiking is a top choice for me, but that's not always feasible due to weather
or your location.
It can sometimes be cumbersome, and it takes a lot of breath.
You have to gather supplies, map out your route, and simply leaving the house.
Sometimes it isn't the easiest when you're feeling some kind of way.
So my remedy of choice is spin.
When I'm home and when I can use my own bike.
But if I'm not near it, I look for classes nearby, or find a gym that has a bike that
I can use for a quick ride using my workout app.
Earlier this week, I'd been feeling really down, as though there was a heavy, dark grey
cloud just sitting above me, covering the sunshine, weighing me down.
It sounds like a metaphor, but my body, my shoulders actually felt as though they were
carrying a weight.
I felt sure that what I was struggling with would pass, but it's not great to sit and
feel yucky as a body sensation.
I feel slow, sluggish, unmotivated, questioning if I'll ever see a sunny day again.
Of course I know I will, but in the moment, I still question it.
I went to a spur of the moment spin class, a simple 30 minute session.
I was still getting over this weird cold that's been plaguing me for a few days short of a
month now, so I figured it might be best to not overdo it, to start with a shorter session.
As anticipated, the halfway mark hit and I felt invincible.
I was on top of the world.
My lungs burned, but not because of the cold.
They burned due to the increased demand I placed on myself as I pushed against the heavy, thick,
mud-like resistance of the pedals below my feet.
I was dialed in, focused, thriving.
What a feeling.
Honestly, I'm not exaggerating when I say it's night and day.
I laughed, pouring sweat, walked out into the cold air, and found a piece had washed
over my entire body.
Finally, I thought.
I felt as though I had taken a seat back within myself, back within my body for the first
time in over a week.
When I got home, I was motivated.
I put together this podcast.
I felt productive, calm, the emotional baggage had significantly lessened.
Another obvious variable that severely impacts me is sleep.
Time to do a check-in.
Have you slept well?
Are you feeling rested?
If the answer is no, well, I tend to have a short fuse, a low tolerance, and I'm extremely
sensitive, absolutely emotional.
I don't tend to go nap when I recognize this.
My medications prevent me from fully winding down in this way.
So instead, I try to remove tasks from my day that can absolutely wait.
The ones that are heavier and likely to drain whatever capacity I have left.
I view this as a self-compassionate move, so whatever can reasonably be rescheduled,
I do it.
Instead, I include more restful activities, laying down in silence if it's what I need,
but it also can include low-key activities such as reading or whatever things feel restful
and will contribute to an eventual winding down for hopefully a night of restful sleep.
I don't do anything specific for a night routine, I don't take any medications.
I usually just plan these days to allow a calming of the mind so I can go to bed earlier
in a more natural way.
If I'm at a point where my lack of sleep is affecting my mood, it's usually around
this point that I will have a great night's sleep.
I know that I get like this and I tend to prioritize enough hours for sleep and a restful
sleep routine.
It's not always possible, but even when I forget other aspects of care, I know that
fatigue has devastating effects on me.
I've spent too much time being tired, exhausted.
It's no wonder I'm afraid to allow myself to deplete in the most basic of ways.
I think that the problem for me is I became so used to the hustle culture, the grind,
all of which involved putting myself and my needs on the back burner, where it required
me to neglect my basic needs to ensure that I could keep up even if it was at my own expense.
In doing so, the basic concepts have escaped me for so long.
Caring for myself in these ways ensures that I remember that I am absolutely worthy of
compassion, that I need to be gentle with myself.
This is also how I can show up for myself, to show myself that I do love me.
It's another way I am learning to love myself in ways that I have always needed, but hadn't
known how until now.