no. 01 dispatch from collapse

I’ve started conceptualizing for myself that there are tiers to my self-care (for lacking of a better alternative because fuck self-care: a story for another time).

There’s a tier of this self-maintenance scaffolding that is really about preventing further deterioration. This is not the tier where we’re actively building our progress toward health or wholeness; it’s the tier where we’re just keeping the wheels on. Day 1 of collapse is in this tier.

This is the tier of watching early episodes of Supernatural from approximately 9am to 4pm while drinking kombucha and eating cheezits that you ordered on the Dashmart while lying in the bed you never got out of this morning. It’s the tier where you get stoned and watch brain candy content on YouTube. It’s the tier of ice cream and guilt-free pleasures. And I was absolutely contented to spend my first day of short-term disability leave in this tier. I just kept smiling.

I hope to not spend most or even much of my time off in this tier of self-care. I’ve had depression long enough to know what happens when I overstay my joy in this tier. I hope that active recovery efforts can happen as I recalibrate. But I am also granting myself the permission to lean into this tier for a little while longer because it’s honestly delicious. I needed this crash. //