Containers of Care
Being chronically sick sucks. Those have been the waters I’ve been swimming in since June. On and off initially. And now consistently, daily. I'll spare y'all the details, but it's been a ride to say the least. And I’m in process with not a whole lot of clarity yet.
One of the many things I've been sitting with in all this is: Why do we put the blame on ourselves when we are sick? Just me? I have been thinking things like “Oh I haven't been taking good enough care of myself” or "I've been letting things build up for years” or versions of that inner commentary. The general theme being, ‘I'm here and experiencing this because of things I have and haven't done…this is my fault’.
And maybe there is something to this. Maybe there are choices over the last four decades Ive made that are contributing to where I am now. But I'm a bit over the commentary I’ve seen making the rounds that says a woman might have an autoimmune disease (or any sickness) because she wasn't enough of a bitch or didn't have enough boundaries. Maybe there is some room to grow here.
Perhaps it's not just about adding things like boundaries, supplements, acupuncture, and massages. Don't get me wrong, these things are important and have a place. Maybe its also just as important to sever ties and take things away. Like in my case, stepping away from board/committee meetings. Cutting cords from perfectionism. Detangling from the chronic caretaking and managing of all the things around me. It can also be about clearing energy from the systems that impact our day to day (a whole other topic of rituals for another writing!)
So, YES. There are things I can and want to do to better care for myself. Both add and take away.
AND, to think that I am the only one responsible for my health and wellness is part of the quackery and falsity of supremacy culture and colonization. It’s not just on me. It’s not just about me.
My beautiful mentor friend Paulina Mendez recently shared with me about the importance of creating containers.
As a mother, 1st born Xicana daughter, sister, therapist, and partner, I have been so skilled at creating containers of care for everyone around me. I've been doing this as far back as I can remember. So, for at least 40 years I've gotten great practice at “holding space and change” for folks. I see the value in it and I cherish these parts of myself.
The kind of container I have less familiarity and practice with: containers where I am being poured into. Containers of receiving.
People trying to extend support to me often has left me feeling really uncomfortable. Not always. But lately, definitely. So, I'm practicing building containers for receiving. It's been a really hard practice. I kinda don't know what I'm doing, and I feel like I'm flailing around when it comes to building containers of receiving. But I am trying.
When a friend offers to accompany me to get the MRI, I say “Yes, please. Thank you querida”.
When another friend offers to make and share their ancestral food, so I don't have to cook, I say, “Yes please, thank you jamae”.
It sounds easy enough, right? But the mental gymnastics I do to arrive at those seemingly simple words are wild to me. It literally takes me days of mental back and forth. I've had friends offer to pick up my kids from school, to come help with laundry, bring me more food and I’ve not been able to bring myself to say “yes, please” to them yet. It's an edge, and I'm feeling it out.
So, I'm here to share my own experience of trying to de-program from the mentality “I'm sick because I didn't take good enough care of myself (Damn, we are so good at oppressing ourselves, aren't we? What a shocker considering the soup we are swimming in?!)
Trying to lean into growing containers of receiving feels hard but it's also feeling a heck of a lot less lonely this way.
Life has shown to be full of unexpected and expected illness, grief, loss, and suffering. May we not go at it alone. May we go at it accompanied with some solid fucking friends and fam.