As a bipolar woman in recovery, learning how to develop and maintain self-care is an everyday struggle. It's something I work hard to practice everyday, and I celebrate myself as best I can when I complete the arduous task of taking care of myself.
So here are a few self-care principles I live by and offer to you:
Practice the basics – Eat, sleep, bathe and go outside. These actions may be simple for many, but for those of us who live with mental illness, they can be a struggle. When I can complete my morning routine of getting out of bed, having my morning coffee and cig, medicating and feeding myself and my animals, I know a functional day is possible.
Take a break from the world – Some days, I need to zone out and tap into solitary self-care. I watch a few movies, knit, make jewelry and fight the guilt of just taking it easy. If you need some time to put down work and check out from life, then take it. Know that you are restoring your energy for the challenges of life.
Find a supportive community – Surrounding myself with friends who understand and support me in my struggles is how I keep going. Whether it's a quick coffee with a friend or a phone call, I'm able to share what's going on with me, and lend an ear to the people I care about. That connection keeps me from falling into self-pity and doubt. It provides me with encouragement to continue my self-care journey.
Tap into your creativity – When I write, I fulfill my purpose. Sing, dance, act, make art and collaborate. Do whatever you feel expresses who you are to the world. The feeling of creating something that comes from your heart is priceless.
Seek peace and calm – In seeking everyday wellness, I call on my spiritual practice to find quiet. I meditate, pray, read, listen to music, and take walks. I conjure up the moments that help me find quiet to hear my inner voice and listen. Seeking peace and calm helps me to better understand myself and formulate how I decide to be guided.
Rest – Let's be real, wellness is tiring. Take naps, sleep well, and slow down your body to take much-needed breaks.
Fight – Never give up on yourself and your right to self-care. When I learned I had to care about myself to care for myself, it was a hard pill to swallow. So I faked feeling worthy until feeling worthy started to become a natural response to my everyday life.
As a Queer Black woman, I live in a world that gives up on me, daily. I refuse to give up on myself in response. I advise with all the sisterlove in my heart that you never give up on the self-care you rightfully deserve.
Editor’s Note: If you need further advice on ways to practice forms of self-care, please visit the QTPOC Mental Health group, a place on Facebook for queer & trans people of color to connect with and help one another. Or, seek out an online group that meets your own intersectional needs.
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Image description:
A fat Black person with long locs sits in the middle of a beach, framed by palm fronds on both sides. They're wearing glasses, a short-sleeved beige shirt, blue shorts, and a long multicolor beaded necklace with a green pendant. Behind them is a pile of pomegranates. In front, objects are arranged on the sand, including candles, crystals, and a crescent moon.
About Cristy C. Road:
A Cuban-American artist, writer, and musician, Road thrives to testify the beauty of the imperfect through unconventional ways of seeing the world. Her obsession with making art [and her emotions] publicly accessible began in her hometown of Miami, FL, where she began making zines in 1997. Her zine turned into a manifesto about being a hyper-sexual, queer, Latina, abuse survivors, and her journey towards self-acceptance.
About Ashley Young:
A queer Black writer, poet and teacher, Ashley has contributed to three anthologies, writes for ELIXHER, and has been featured in Autostraddle. Forthcoming are a collection of poetry and prose, "Chronicles of Bipolar Living," and her first novel, a biomythography "The Liberation of the Black Unicorn." A 2010 VONA Poetry fellow and 2011 Lambda Literary Fellow, she lives in NYC with her wife, four wild cats, and sweet service dog.
In "Honor, the Scorned," Xelestial's soul is in constant turmoil with the encounters of love she has in her life, as well as her insistence and demand to be seen under her terms. We enter a transient space of time and magic in this performance ritual with Xelestiál's body, heart, and soul.
Because we encompass gender defiant ideologies and reject the mainstream, we who visibly navigate queerness, who practice transfeminism, miss out on the queer capitalist extravaganza that everyone else benefits from.
Pride can look like resting with our ancestors, resting with the ones who paved the road of the movement blocks that guide our liberation.
I’ve finally allowed myself to be honest with myself. And as a result, I’m able to be honest with my partner.
They’ll talk Native issues so it seems like they care / But LGBTQ2S issues are Native issues because we’ve always been here
Family meant loving what was not there. But then we grow up. And we learn that to draw close is to survive. And to draw close is maybe even something desirable.
Does adoption count as something chosen? What part? For whom?
Be vulnerable / Speaking your truth / Even when it shaves your soul / Naked / Leaves your heart in tears / Sheds your fear in pieces
I proceeded to tell them what happened. I didn’t have much in the way of details—believing that’s what they wanted to hear—but what I did share left them in a state of slack-jawed shock. They asked me to imagine for a moment if I had done to her what she had done to me, where I might be at that very moment.
I know few get the opportunity to heal. That’s the motivation that drives me to do healing justice work. But in offering community support, I often forget that I’m part of the community too, that I deserve access to heal from trauma. And those “I don’t deserve _____s” are all giving voice to my survivor’s guilt.
Past experiences of broken confidence held me back, and I had even less confidence that I would be able to find a queer competent, POC identified behavioral health professional with sexual assault experience who was worth investing time, money, and trust in.
Communication is super, super important. Yet no one really taught me how to communicate about sex. I’ve begun to ask myself why I am so afraid to be seen.
A video featuring Eve Xelestiál Moreno-Luz. “My perception as a self identified femme brings forth waves of validation to the divine I know myself to be.”
What we always lack vocabulary for is our feelings. We don’t know how to express them without navigating through the shame of being a feeling person first. We don’t know how to ask without demanding.
I stopped being at the mercy of other healers when I began to heal myself.
There are things I want to do all the time, like … I have ambitions, I do, really … want to be there for people, but…
Even if there is tension among your bio family, you are still loved and honored for who you are in the other spaces you create for yourself. No one can take that from you.
Christmas started bullying me; during sleepless nights it showed a carousel of pictures of my childhood: the primary love I thought I had but deeply marked me, carers who gave me unhealthy bonding, yet carers who I deeply miss.
Still no matter how much I try to resist it / I wax nostalgic for a person who never existed
Often, I wonder if I love women because I’m tired of being hurt by men. In effect, I have the same question many queer survivors have: am I queer because I was abused?
I’m not doing it on purpose, I promise. But when I’m in the bathroom alone I look at myself in the mirror and I go to a dark place within my own body, somewhere that I haven’t yet exorcised and burnt incense in.
fuck you! / and now you want me to speak like a martyr? / well I am still alive and much smarter
As we dream of ways to change our world by embodying a more radical self-care and community care, let’s make sure that we don’t leave members of our community or those who could be part of our community behind.
this water offers resolve. / —Touches every part of my body / & does not flinch (Poem also available en español)
You there, you are Sacred & I am Sacred too. / Every one & Every being provides a purpose. / No purpose too small, for even our Beetle Brothers & Sisters bring us a Message.
Once I began to receive my benefits, I began to distance myself from an idea that productivity defines whether I am deserving of respect.
Wanting to take space as a fat brown genderqueer femme is all fun and games until the folks who domineer the space take notice.
I don't know what God meant to do by putting something so un-straight on top of a head so un-straight, but there are reasons they say this is unmanageable / Not because it is impossible to love, or to care for, but because it is impossible to subdue.
I’d like to think of this as a chance to force people to confront the differences between sex and romance. They don't always coexist.
This May, Rest for Resistance is featuring writers who have a chronic mental health condition. Support our contributors on patreon.com/qtpoc, or donate directly through our website.