Self-care is no Longer a Luxury

Pushing through put me in hospital

I know all about self-care. It is what I’m passionate about, what I read and write and talk about all the time.

But knowing and doing are two different things, and I found out the hard way that knowing about the importance of self-care does not make me immune to stress and anxiety.

I knew I was stressed. I knew I was under a lot of pressure. I knew that I was working on my days off. I knew I was emotionally drained and fragile. I knew all of these things, and yet I thought everything was under control. I was handling it! I even told my boss, “I’m handling it.” I had three more days to go until some scheduled time to rest. 

I was handling it, but my body wasn’t.

It was Friday morning. I was at work (on my day off) preparing training materials for a conference the following day. Everything was on track. I was looking forward to the weekend ahead of team vision and training, a weekend that was a highlight on my calendar each year.

It started as a dull ache, a pressure in the middle of my chest that didn’t go away. I ignored it and kept focused on the task at hand. People were relying on me to deliver. I had work to do.

As the morning went on, the pain continued to intensify. I began to feel lightheaded and shaky. I tried to ignore it. I had lunch to see if that made me feel better. It didn't. I had a difficult decision to make because I knew that if I told anyone about what I was feeling, I would then become the centre of attention, everyone would worry, and I would be embarrassed. But I also know there is a history of heart problems in my family, and so as a gift to my husband and children, I told a colleague who called an ambulance. 

What followed was four days of monitors and tests, pokes and prods. Every one of the medical staff I encountered was friendly and kind, but I hated being in hospital. I felt powerless and vulnerable. At any time, day or night, random strangers would come into my room for blood or an ECG, opening the well-positioned openings on my gown to put stickers and chords on my chest. I was exposed and completely disarmed. 

My heart passed all of the tests with flying colours. I have a very healthy heart, which is a great thing to know. The cardiologist basically gave me a 0% chance of developing heart disease in the next ten years. This was great news!

Diagnosis: panic attack, anxiety, stress.

I thought I was handling it, but my body wasn’t. It had had enough. I was given an un-ignorable signal to stop, rest and change the way I handle it.

When I came out of hospital, I pretty much cried for a week, letting out the mix of emotions and feelings I had been boxing up neatly through the months prior. I walked by the water, took long naps and sat in silence, staring at the clouds. I went to doctors and counselling appointments and began to develop a plan to re-enter life. They were difficult and necessary days. 

A month down the track, I feel happier than I have in a long time. I wake up with a smile on my lips and a song in my heart. Who is this girl?

The key to my recovery and preventing anything like this from happening again is becoming more aware of how my body is feeling, and taking notice of the cues it sends me. I am learning that simply stopping work is not recovery enough. I need to make intentional healing practices a part of my regular routine. Self-care is no longer a luxury but an essential part of being healthy.

Here’s what’s helping:

Professional counselling

I found a counsellor who shares my faith, my world view, and has experience with people in vocational ministry. She has asked me hard questions and challenged my thinking patterns. She made me work through the motives behind how I respond to expectations, both those I impose myself and the expectations of others. She gave me a framework of questions to help me examine my heart, and tools to teach my body to be still.

Meditation

I downloaded the Headspace App (there are many different options available) and used the short, guided meditations at regular intervals through the day. Teaching my body how to wind down rather than wind up has been important.

Laughter

This one came out of the blue. Some of the boys I work with started a podcast, Kangaroo Court. I found out about it and felt obligated to check it out. It’s just silly banter about random topics, nothing that adds value to my life, but it made me laugh. After 45 mins of laughing these guys taught me something serious about myself. I feel great after a good laugh. 

I feel better after 30 mins of laughter than I do after 30 mins of meditation. Laughter will continue to be an integral part of my stress relief from now on!

Gratitude

Counting my blessings rather than counting my burdens makes a big difference to my state of mind. I have started forming lists of things I'm grateful for, and once I get in the swing of it, I can go on and on and on and on.

I have started posting things I’m grateful for in my Instagram stories, and I’m going to try to add to it at least once every day. I am going through my day actively looking for things that give my joy, and it does my heart good!

Worship

I was involved in worship ministry at church for many years. It was my thing, and I was immersed in it. I was continually listening to worship music, looking for the next new song for our church to sing. A few years ago, when my role changed, I began listening to other kinds of music and enjoying it. Over time I have gotten out of the habit of listening to worship outside of the Sunday church experience.

In the past few weeks, I have rediscovered the power of filling my home, my car, and my heart with songs of worship. I’ve even been making up my own songs in the car, singing out words of adoration to God.

We have an Alexa in our lounge room, and my new favourite thing to ask is, “Alexa, play some worship music”. She plays a different playlist every time I ask, some songs I’ve never heard before and some are familiar. Last week I spent a morning colouring in and listening to worship fill my home. Truly, He restores my soul.

Community

The last thing I felt like doing when this happened to me was to reach out and surround myself with people. I was embarrassed about what had happened and wanted to retreat into a safe cocoon of my own. I don’t feel like there is a stigma to have a mental illness, as long as it is your illness and not mine. Oh, dear. 

One of the blessings in disguise about this whole experience is that it happened in such a public way. My colleagues, my team and my church all knew I was ill, and they surrounded me with prayer, messages of support and stories of similar experiences. I am not alone in my struggle, and I have appreciated the vulnerability of others as we have shared stories, strategies and verses together. It has blessed my heart beyond measure.

My recovery is ongoing, but I feel like my chest pain experience has become a springboard to a healthier, happier me. I hope I remember this lesson for a very long time and continue to make self-care a priority rather than a luxury.