When the neurologist told me about the traumatic brain injury and related neck issues, she gave me a list of things to do everyday to help my headaches. Some of the suggestions were physical therapy and other ones were “brush your hair backwards and forwards twice a day” and “neck massage twice a day in shower or bath.” And I laughed because, well two neck massages? Two baths or showers? A day?

But, while a shower and a bath twice a day seems a bit much unless I really happen to need it, the other ones all became habit. The hair brushing, the physical therapy that I merged with yoga that led to regular meditation. Five years on, I am doing better now that I’ve learned to take care of myself. I even feel like I deserve it, mostly.

Because it ain’t easy managing any long term condition, and you absolutely have to believe you deserve to feel good to do it. No mean feat. But I’m glad I had the practice. Because for the last few months I’ve suffered from chronic sinusitis that blocked my eustachian (ear) tubes and caused them to become infected. I lost significant hearing in my right ear that was replaced by tinnitus, and I constantly smell burning rubber.

I have always had highly dramatic sinuses, but this is some Italian opera nonsense that I have going on at the moment. Months of fatigue and low grade fever. Four courses of antibiotics. Steroids. Baths. Neti pots. Essential oils. Facial massage. Ayurvedic recipes for soups and teas. Special yoga. Self-care has become a full time job!

I realized how odd my life had become when I woke up and didn’t feel like taking a relaxing bath in Epsom salts with tea tree and eucalyptus oil. I didn’t wanna! I didn’t wanna make more healing broths. I didn’t want to make my special sinus tea. I wanted a hoagie and a rum and coke, for crying out loud! I wanna go swimming. I want to not be tired. I want to be able to stand sunlight.

But truly I have had to make my expectations of myself be: take a nap and don’t feel bad about it. My two big escapes have been some audiobooks about China, Sumeria, the Silk Road civilizations and the Mongols (not all in one book, mind you) and playing Skyrim. My gamer score didn’t transfer over from the XBox 360, so I have been achievement hunting.

I feel ridiculous for complaining about taking baths in essential oils, practicing yoga and preparing semi-elaborate foods and concoctions, playing video games and taking up the habit of giving myself a foot massage every day. I suppose I wasn’t made for the influencer life of taking care of myself all the time or simply focusing so much on myself. But apparently, I had to learn.

It’s not much different than learning to brush my hair backwards and forwards every day and practicing my physical therapy and yoga. Because my diagnosis of the brain injury also came with a referral for trauma informed therapy. And what a revelation that has been. But why should mental and physical healing be separate?

Managing any illness and trying to heal what you can is a slow process that requires a gentle touch and extreme amounts of patience and forgiveness for oneself. Because we gonna screw up, right? Things won’t move as fast as we want them to, and we’ll get frustrated and angry and depressed. But if we keep going back to what is helping us to manage and heal, we will eventually learn how to live in peace with whatever is going on.

And let’s not kid ourselves about how rough that’s been. Firstly, I am only now beginning to even let myself remember my dog that passed last summer. She was eight and went fast. It brought up issues I had surrounding the death of my father. I was never able to properly mourn him. I just dove right into making my thesis film, and then away I went to LA to thank the Academy, and then I was married, and then I was in Costa Rica, and then…I had never stopped. Never slowed down. Never processed that fully. Three years ago I had to move because I was being harassed by my dog’s murderers.

So dead dog, dead Dad, traumatized and brain damaged me eventually shut down, I guess. And all I can do is take care of myself. And I still feel as though that’s such a pathetic whine. For years I lived with a man who’d pull me out of bed every night by my hair and ankles repeatedly to beat me because he was out of his mind on cocaine and alcohol night after night. I’d hide outside and wait until he got quiet and try to sneak back in. And sometimes he’d wake up and it would start over.

So, I mean, yeah, I think I can cut myself some slack. I’m fortunate I have this time to go through this. Because I absolutely have to. This was the amount of time and effort I needed to put into caring about myself. I needed that many special healing yoga sessions, that much meditation, that many baths, that much special tea and soup, that much history to muse over and that much time in Skyrim, my second favorite place (the first is The Shire).

I’ve also decided that this house will sell exactly when I get better and am ready to move! So I haven’t been sweating that too much. I want to move. I’m ready. And I’m absolutely done keeping this house like it’s a fine restaurant and the owner’s coming by with friends. But I’m working at it. I’m working at it because it’s my life, and my life matters. My health and wellbeing and happiness matters. And I began this journey five years ago with my PCP who sent me to that neurologist who told me to brush my hair. I have a nice, flat, stiff bristle brush for that now. And I use it almost without thinking every day. It all counts. Every small act stacks like so many bonuses.

Healing is hard! It’s messy and gross. Let’s think about what’s wrong with me right now: I’m stuffed full of mucus. Great, if icky, metaphor for needing to learn to flow and let go. And I have the trash cans full of tissues to prove it, as I sit here making noises like Felix Unger clearing his sinuses.

I feel like this old commercial for some beauty product for women that said “because you’re worth it!” I feel like that “worth it” lady. I don’t have long hair to flip luxuriously about. In fact I gave myself a pixie cut and dyed it a dark sapphire color, but I’m worth low maintenance cute hair. It cheers me up.

And I’m worth this Full Moon deep rest yoga nidra I’m about to do, and the special tea I’ll make after. I’m worth the bath and essential oils and facial massage and breathing techniques and and and because that is what I need right now to heal. It’s curiously simple.

I need to take care of myself to heal, but I need to believe I deserve to heal and take care of myself first. Luckily they reinforce each other. The language nerd in me loves that “yoga” has the same Indo-European root as “yoke.” It means a union or fusion of mind, body and spirit through a practice. Yoga is the practice of making oneself whole. The yoga of healing is the same. It takes the mind, body and spirit, and it takes time and practice. There’s going to be a lot of embarrassing and deflating moments along the way, and the journey might last a lifetime, but, ya know, I’m worth it. You’re worth it.

Well that’s why I haven’t posted in so long. Hopefully this is part of the healing process. What practices are you adding to your life to make it the legendary experience you deserve? Let me know down below.

-J.Lakis

✌🏼❤️‍🩹🐦‍🔥🍵🍲🧘🏻🤕🙏🏻

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