Why Operation Self Care?
When Instagram first became a thing, my Instagram handle was related to my then-husband and his last name. So when we got divorced and I went back to my maiden name, it seemed time to change my handle. I had been with my first husband for 14 years, since I was 18 years old. Like most women, I was really good at taking care of him, and not so good at taking care of myself. After I left, I lived in a one bedroom apartment and it was the first time I had ever lived alone. I had no husband, no pets, not even any plants. I had no one to take care of but myself. And it felt liberating.
Operation Self Care felt like an appropriate reminder to myself to take care of myself. The “Operation” part made it feel urgent, like it was a life or death situation. And it sort of was. That first year, I did things I’d never done before. I took myself to Hawaii first class for a yoga retreat, then travelled around the island by myself. I started doing yoga more regularly. I started going to bars by myself and making friends (or what I thought were friends).
And while parts of that were taking care of myself, parts of it weren’t. Parts of it—especially when my drinking really took over—were me numbing and running away from the pain and my feelings, the exact opposite of taking care of myself.
The week between Christmas and New Year’s in 2017, I hit the bottom of my drinking. That day, I had two work parties to be at. One that started at 3 pm, and another at 5 pm. At that point in time, I had convinced myself that if I only drank gin and didn’t mix with other booze, I wouldn’t be hungover the next day. (The alcoholic mind is an amazing thing….) So I started drinking gin martinis at 3 pm, and I don’t remember anything after 6 pm. I was not normally a blackout drinker, but for whatever reason I was on that day. There are so many things I still don’t know about that night. I don’t know who I talked to, what I said, how I left the party, or who I was with. All I know is that somehow I ended up sitting on a curb in downtown Portland, by myself, a block and a half from a homeless camp, for who knows how long. I was somehow able to call the man I was seeing at the time, he came and got me and took me home.
The next day I was still drunk, and shaken and scared. But I was also weirdly okay. I didn’t get fired, I didn’t get mugged, I thankfully didn’t drive. It felt like the Universe was saying, “Okay, baby girl. I kept you safe that time. But you need to get your shit together, because I can’t promise that again.”
I didn’t know if I was more scared to drink again, or to never drink again. At that point in my life, I didn’t know what an alcoholic was, I didn’t know what Alcoholics Anonymous was. I just knew I couldn’t go on the way I was.
Fast forward to my first year of sobriety which started on January 1, 2018 (as a new years’ resolution because I didn’t know what else to do). That first year was HARD. But it was also the first time I really took care of myself. In putting my sobriety first, I finally put myself first. If I had a bad day and didn’t trust myself to go to the work party, I didn’t go. If I couldn’t get out of my head and needed a friend, I called someone. I asked for help, I slowed down my life, and I took care of myself for the first time in my life. It was once I got sober that Operation Self Care really came into practice.
In a weird way, leaving my career feels a little bit like admitting I was an alcoholic. When I was drinking, I would tell myself every Monday, this week I won’t drink during the work week, this week I’ll wait until the weekend; and I would maybe make it to Tuesday. Maybe. Throughout most of my career, I’ve been telling myself, “Just get through this week. Just get through this week.” But the weeks keep coming. I don’t want a life I have to “get through.” I don’t know what that sort of life looks like, but I am stubbornly going to believe it’s possible, and go search for it.
Operation Self Care is about questioning what we’ve been told life should be. Recognizing that so much of our systems are based on patriarchy, capitalism, and white supremacy. The system works well with well behaved women. I no longer wish to be a well behaved woman. I want to see what’s out there, and what is possible. That is my mission, and I choose to accept it.