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When my husband died, one of my closest friends, who had lost her own husband very young, told me it must be harder for me than it was for her, because I had children. I disagreed, because without my children, I don't think I would have bothered taking care of myself. All I wanted to do for those first few weeks was curl up under the covers of my bed and hide from the world, from life. But I couldn't, because I needed to take care of my children. And in order to do that, I needed to take care of myself.
Self-care is one of the hardest parts of grief. Self-care takes thought and energy, two things that are in very short supply while you're grieving. Fortunately, I was surrounded by friends and family who reminded me to take care of myself and who took care of me when I couldn't do it myself.
If you are grieving, or struggling with depression or other issues that make it difficult to take care of yourself, here are some things I found it helpful to remember.
You need to eat.
At first, anything you can stomach is good. I couldn't manage eating actual meals for a while, but having snacks that people had brought visible in the kitchen reminded me to eat when I could, and keeping a variety on hand meant that I could often find something that appealed. Food had no taste to me for a long time, so I looked for snacks with an appealing texture: yogurt, pudding, creamy soups, hummus, milk shakes, mashed potatoes. In those early days, nutritious value took a back seat to simply getting calories in. Later on, I worked my way up to comfort foods: pasta, pizza, pot pie, cinnamon toast, PB&J sandwiches. Eventually I worked in more protein in the form of grilled chicken, summer sausage, deli roast beef, grilled cheese sandwiches. Do what works for you, but make eating a priority.
You need to sleep.
This is one of the hardest parts of self-care, because you can't always control it. I was almost two months out before I got anything like a full night's sleep, and even that was interrupted. Sleep when you can, even if it's in the middle of the day. If you're wide awake at 5:30am, get up and watch the sunrise, then go back to bed and try to get another hour or two of sleep. If it's 8:30pm and you're nodding off on the couch, go to bed. You're going to wake up early anyway, so try to squeeze in a few extra hours earlier in the evening. Don't be afraid to speak to your doctor. My doctor offered to write me a prescription for a sleep aid to use in the short term. Especially if you have trouble falling asleep because you can't turn off your thoughts, a sleep aid can help break the cycle of anxiety. A rested mind is often a less anxious one.
You need to practice personal hygiene.
I found it very hard to care whether I'd brushed my teeth, or washed my hair, or shaved my legs, or taken a shower. I was like a glassy-eyed zombie, stumbling through my day doing only the most essential of tasks. But I found that when I forced myself to take care of my body, I felt more human, more ready to interact with the people who were trying to help me. Looking into a mirror and seeing an unwashed face with dirty, messy hair and fuzzy teeth was disheartening; seeing clean, brushed hair and teeth helped me feel ready to square my shoulders and face the world. Also, a long, hot shower is a good place to cry with impunity. Speaking of which...
You need to let yourself cry.
Different people deal with grief differently, but I think that at some point all of us need a good cry. For me, at first I was frozen, and then once things had sunk in I was afraid to let myself cry for fear that I wouldn't be able to stop. But I've found that deliberately finding times to cry, in safe places or with safe people, relieves a huge amount of pent-up stress and anxiety. The best place and time that works for me is in the morning before my kids get up. I get a cup of coffee and sit either on my front porch, where I can watch the sun rise, or near the window with my birdfeeders, and let myself cry, with tears simply pouring down my face. There may be times when you find yourself crying at a memory, like something you find around the house; or about some bureaucratic tangle you're dealing with; or a specific anxiety like finances or household management; but it's healthy to have a good, nonspecific cry now and then. Let it all out without worrying that it's messy or snotty or you're making disgusting noises. Talk out loud if it helps. Let out all those pent-up emotions.
You need to take care of your mental health.
Everyone has different resources, but most of us have access to friends, counselors, therapists, books, podcasts. Looks for resources that work for you. Crowdsource recommendations. If you have access to an EAP, take advantage of it. If your medical insurance covers a therapist or counselor, make an appointment. If you attend a church, speak to your pastor. Consider joining a grief support group, either in person or online. Explore your options, and find what works for you. But don't let your mental health spiral out of control. Work on managing it before it becomes a problem.
You need to take care of your physical health.
See your doctor regularly. The stress of a loss can exacerbate existing conditions like high blood pressure, heart problems, digestive issues, autoimmune diseases, etc., and it can bring on new conditions. Address these issues promptly before they become a problem. I have chronic health conditions and my doctors were incredibly supportive and helpful in making short-term changes to make sure that problems with my physical health didn't affect my mental health, and that they didn't worsen due to the stress I was under. I hate taking any more medication that I absolutely need, but sometimes a short-term prescription is healthier than powering through a situation. Work with your doctor to find what's right for you.
You need to ask for help.
Asking for help is very hard for me. Even letting people help is very hard for me. But people genuinely want to help. The people in your life, your family and friends, are grieving as well, and you're actually doing them a disservice by refusing their help. People who love you are hurt by seeing you hurting; let them help to ease that hurt any way you can. Accept help when offered, and don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it. Let friends bring you meals, even if you feel like you can cook. Let someone drive your kid home from an event, even if you're free to pick them up. You have so much on your plate that you can't do everything, even if you can do all the parts of everything. Use the time you save by accepting help to take a breath, to take a shower, to take a moment to organize your thoughts. Accepting help allows you to do some of the needed self care on this list.
You need to put yourself first sometimes.
Especially if you have children (as I do), and especially if you are a people pleaser (as I am), it can be difficult to give your own needs priority over others'. For quite some time, I felt like I had to accept all the offers to go out for coffee and to go for a walk and to participate in some activity or other. And I genuinely wanted to accept them all, both for their sakes and for mine! It was lovely to have friends who were happy to talk, listen, or just sit quietly together, and I know it made them feel better to see for themselves that I was doing okay, all things considered. But I'm an introvert, and despite enjoying the company, there was a point when I was simply all peopled out. So I decided to take a few days and let myself be a hermit. I gave myself permission to say "no" to everything and to refill my emotional tank through solitude. And as a parent, I needed to be very careful that I was supporting what my kids needed, but not at the expense of my own emotional well-being. Instead of taking on the emotional load of figuring out how to get my son to a gathering of friends, I told him he was welcome to go, but he needed to figure out his own transportation (he's almost 16; this was something he could absolutely handle on his own). I worked in several volunteer positions, and I told one of them that I just couldn't do it any more. I felt guilty that I was letting them down, but it was simply too much. And I felt a huge sense of relief after I stepped away. It's okay to make yourself a priority.
The bottom line is that you need to take care of yourself, so that you can take care of whatever and whoever you need to be responsible for. And if you're struggling to take care of yourself, find people around you to help take care of you. After all, you're the only you you've got.
