Micki's Musings

I learned something new about myself last week in my personal finance class. It had less to do with finances and more to do with another of those dark spaces I need to clean out that I didn't realize existed: I struggle to ask for help for myself not just because of pride, but because of fear. It's much more of a wall than I realized. I thought I was actually pretty good at asking for help. I asked for help with moving. I asked for help cleaning and organizing once during the midst of the chaos when my house was completely out of control. I asked for help with my yard when the weeds were taking over and my landlord was getting annoyed. I accepted help when my landlord offered to bring dinner three nights in a row when I was sick. I thought I knew how to accept help. I thought my pride was under control. But it's not. You see, I know how to ask for help, but I only will when I am truly drowning, and I really, really hate doing it. Not just the regular prideful stuff,

I've worked out of my latest funk. Literally. I have a friend who is in the same space as me as far as wanting to take better care of himself, and he and I are holding each other accountable. We're making it a contest. Last week I exercised half an hour a day for four days. This week my goal is to work out five days of the week. We're just making half an hour to breathe a little harder, get the heart beating a little faster, nothing major as far as lifestyle change or difficulty, but it still makes a big difference. It helps so much to have an accountability partner. For me, it helps for that accountability partner to be a cute guy I want to impress. *Insert smiley face and shrugging emoji here.* I know, I'm still fairly ridiculous, but if it works, I'm going to use it. I feel much more balanced again. Taking care of me doesn't feel like as much of a roadblock. My sister sent me an article called 6 Honest Reasons Why Self Care Is So Hard (and Can Feel Lousy).

I have completely fallen off the self-care wagon. Why is it so difficult for me to take care of me? I love myself, I truly do. I accept myself wholly and completely, the good, bad, light, dark, beautiful, broken, all of my pieces. I love me. Why can't my actions reflect that? It's an actual, deep kind of syndrome I currently have. I need to heal it. I thought I was doing really well. I've been going to activities and playing hard. The guilt is still there, that I "should" be spending more time with my kids or "should" be cleaning my house or blah blah blah. But I brush it aside and truly enjoy myself. But then the weekend ends and I still haven't worked out for a month and I still take the time to do the "make sure" things for others, but not for me. I've been sick all week. Like bad sick. I have a hacking, debilitating cough that literally brings me to my knees. All week, at night, I make sure to slather the kids in essential oils