Sometimes self-care, for me, includes getting dolled up and taking some photos that make me feel sexy and human. It isn’t always something I have the motivation to do, even though I know it is almost guaranteed to make me feel better, every single time. Depression is tricky like that, convincing you that you don’t really want to feel better. Whether it is because the activity seems too daunting, or the self-loathing coats everything in a layer of shit and you don’t believe you have anything to offer, so why the fuck should you bother?
Yeah. I fight that on the daily.
The good news is that I do, in fact, fight it (mostly) and attempt to forge through. I have been practicing being kind to myself these days rather than trying to bully myself through it like I have always done in the past. I find myself internally screaming “What the fuck is wrong with you, Nikki, jesus fucking christ, when are you going to get over this shit?!” less and less lately and replacing it with kinder, more patient, positive self-statements.