Everyone always says, ‘you should look after yourself’.
I have always wondered what they mean. Do I have food in my teeth? Am I looking a bit rough? Is my tag sticking out? Does my breath smell? Did I even ask you?
BTW never tell a woman she looks ‘tired’. It’s never appreciated. Looking tired is never up there with healthy and gorgeous. It means worn out. Ravaged. And shit. It’s up there with ‘well’, which we know means ‘a bit fat’. While I’m on this, maybe just stop commenting on what women look like. It makes us feel weird inside.
I know people are talking about ‘self-care’. Which to me always reminds me of a cat having a licky bath. I can’t watch cats lick themselves, it grosses me out. But I guess, you’d have to call that self-care, at least for cats. I don’t do that. I’ve always been big on self-neglect. Put yourself last.
Be a martyr. It’s my Catholic upbringing. Nothing like a bit of suffering to get you up in the morning. Self-flagellation is probably the opposite to licking. Unless you have a spikey tongue … I think cats have spikey tongues. Gross.
I was thinking of this at 3am the other morning when I woke up needing to go to the toilet. You know that excruciating sleepy feeling? When you are half-asleep, but you are desperate for a wee, but you just don’t have the energy to get up, so you fall back to sleep, and the bladder pain just gets more intense. It’s because you didn’t deal with it.
Your body sends you a signal. It sends you the ‘discomfort’ message. And you go, ‘F that, I’m overriding discomfort, because you know what else is discomfort? Getting out of bed at 3am in the cold and having to walk 15 steps to the toilet. I don’t care. Not doing it.’ But your body goes – ‘really dickhead? You want to play it like this? How about I double the urine load? Let’s see who wins the discomfort war now!’
I am thinking this while I lie in bed and don’t get up. I’m in pain. And I’m not asleep. I’m in pain because I want to be asleep and won’t engage in a small inconvenience for my own wellbeing. I have become a ‘pisskeeper’. I have chosen to suffer and hope it will go away. That seems nuts. The only way it goes away is if I wet the bed, and I haven’t crossed that line. Yet.
I have an epiphany. This is a metaphor for self-care. You have to do the thing you don’t feel like because in the long run it will benefit you. Like brushing your teeth. Or exercising. Or unpacking the dishwasher. There will be a little bit of annoyance but it will be followed by results. I got up, went to the bathroom, returned and fell asleep. Getting up wasn’t as bad, or as difficult, as I thought it was going to be. Thinking about it was a lot worse than doing it. It was over in a minute. I fell asleep in seconds. I had been lying in bed having a bladder war for 40 minutes. The war took up more time than the surrender. It’s crazy being human. AI couldn’t write us.
Self-care isn’t so bad after all. Why don’t you give it a go? By the way, you’re looking a bit tired.
- Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox column has appeared in The Echo for almost 23 years. The personal and the political often meet here; she’s also been the Greens federal candidate since before the last two federal elections. The Echo’s coverage of political issues will remain as comprehensive and fair as it has ever been, outside this opinion column which, as always, contains Mandy’s personal opinions only.
For four decades The Echo has printed the stories some people loved, some people hated, and some pretended not to read. If you want us to keep telling the truth, the real truth, not the sugar-coated version. We’ll need your support to keep the presses rolling. 
