I paid $175 to learn that I needed a nap.
The credit card charge appeared just moments after I had told my doctor through the screen that something was off. It was a regular check-up and things were mostly fine, but I admitted a tiny concern: I was finding it hard to relax. I had what felt like extra energy at the end of the workday, amped up and tense just cooking dinner. It didn't matter if it had been a hard or easy day - I felt as physically frantic as I would if I had consumed an entire pot of coffee. How could I get rid of all this extra energy?
Doctor: You do not have extra energy.
Me: I do! I do!
Doctor: Energy is something you control, and this is something you're not controlling. You are not energetic. You are restless.
Me: What?
Doctor: You are tired. You need to take a nap.
Me: Blank stare, squinted eyes, twisty lips.
Doctor: You go from being a CEO to a dinner-fixer, kid-wrangler, laundry-folder, bill-payer, and writer. You are working virtually and no longer have the 40-minute drive to transition and settle. No one will miss you for twenty or thirty minutes while you lay down and sleep at the end of your workday.
I argued as long as I could, then I relented.
The next day, when my work was finished, I laid down, covered myself with my favorite blanket, closed my eyes, and before I could finish my silent rant about how ridiculous this was, I had fallen asleep. Thirty-two minutes later, my eyes opened, I took a deep breath, and I got up.
For that short time, my mind quit racing, my body quit pacing. My jaw unclenched. My shoulders returned to level position.
When my kids were babies, I met their needs as specifically as possible, heeding warnings from my mamma-mentors that I not give them a bottle at every whimper. I learned to assess their different sounds and faces - some meant hunger, others meant they were tired, still others meant they had gas and were in pain. When they were in pain, I held them and rubbed their tummies; when they were hungry, I fed them; when they were tired, I put them to bed. Milk would not fix pain, nor would sleep fix hunger.
My go-to solution for this grown-up life I have has always been to do something. Think more. Say more. Do more. But more is not the answer for a woman who is tired. The answer for a woman who is tired is sleep.
You and I are both worth the 60-second pause it takes to assess what's going on, what we need, and provide it. Self care is not a list of things to do. Self-care is paying attention as specifically to ourselves as we do to a newborn baby, learning our own signals. What do we need right now? Sometimes the answer will be food. Sometimes the answer will be a friend to talk to. Sometimes the answer will be a nap. We are worth asking the question, and we are worth the answer.
It cost me $175 to learn I needed a nap. But the truth is my reluctance to acknowledge my limits has cost me much more than that. It has chipped away at my health, my relationships, and my effectiveness as a boss-lady. I'm glad to have the chance to build a new pattern now, with a simple daily choice to lay down when I'm tired. It's funny: closing my eyes has helped me see everything just a bit clearer.
Sleep tight,
Amanda
