Thoughts and Cares

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My fingers show my emotions. From broken nails, jagged and torn to the nub, to dry cracked cuticles and shredded skin. My fingers are the truths I cannot hide. They tell the story of anxiety picked cuticles, of stress torn nail beds, and of the emptions I fail to process in other ways, if at all.

I noticed this today because for the first time in too long I really paid attention to my hands. It's only been eleven days since my gallbladder removal surgery. Being forced to slow down physically has somehow helped me slow down mentally too, allowing me time to sit with myself and to "mind my hula hoop," a term a friend uses often to describe what is and is not her monkey or her circus. IYKYK.

How did I miss the destruction of my hands? I'm a thinker - the kind who spends hours in the corporate boardroom of my mind, analyzing my analysis until I'm lost in loops of metacognition. It's equal parts monotonous and all-consuming. But today was different. When I looked at my hands, instead of diving into another analysis spiral, I allowed myself to simply have the thought: Why do I do this to myself? And then I let it go.

My therapist often points out my need to 'pathologize myself and the world around me.' She's right - I spend 90% of my time trying to understand why people behave the way they do, why they make the choices they make. And here's the revelation: it doesn't matter.

Well, that's not entirely true. The 'why' matters - we need to understand a thing to change it. But what many people are just now learning (realizing? admitting?) is that actions have consequences even without a complete understanding of their origins. And those consequences require immediate care.

While I've been busy analyzing, my hands have been telling their own story of neglect. So today, I allowed myself to let the question go because the answers, although important, are not as important as insuring my hands get the attention they need to heal from the harm I caused.

So, I'm shifting my focus. What if, instead of centering on the why, I prioritize the impact of what I've done? What if engaging in care becomes as important as understanding? This month, my focus is on both Thoughts and Cares - not just one or the other.

I've already taken the first step by scheduling weekly at-home manicures. These aren't just about making my nails pretty, although I wanna try some art kits in the future, they're planned check-ins with myself. These will be moments to take stock of what my hands are telling me about my emotional state. Between these sessions, I'm engaging in activities that keep my hands busy creating rather than destroying.

Crocheting and meditative for me - whether it's continuing my brother's crochet hat or starting something new for myself, I hope to finish at least three projects this month. An added bonus is that repetitive motions of crochet calm my mind so I've long used it for stimming.

Then of course, is writing. I'll be working on Project MWS, and journaling on my blog. Creating worlds and stories are essential to my peace. Of course, I'll be playing The Sims 4 and The Sims 2 which gives my analytical side a productive outlet.

Even simple acts like meal prep and folding laundry become opportunities to process my emotions in a more productive manner.

I'm also reading. I've joined a few virtual book clubs hoping to engage in more discussions for fun.

Finally, as I recover from surgery, gentle movement - slow walks and chair dancing -will keep me in tuned with my body rather than lost in my thought.

This is not about stopping the analysis entirely. I'm more interested in finding a balance between thinking and showing care. And of course I'm wondering how this can be applied to the world at large.