Instead of checking myself into a mental facility, I checked myself into a nice hotel for the day.
It’s no secret that being a woman in today’s society can be a daunting task, but you add being perimenopausal, the full moon, a sick spouse, a general malcontent feeling of existential dread, watching the world burn, a weird ass pimple, bills without the funds in the account to cover them, a co-owner of a business, an overheated touch-me-not that loves to cuddle but hates to be touched, insomniac until midday, dog mom of an anxiety ridden mutt that won’t let you pet him but demands to crawl on your chest at 4 am and you have a breakdown soup on the stove about to boil over. Okay, I’m not necessarily describing your life, but I’m describing parts of it, aren’t I?
Hi. I’m Kristy, a 43-year-old woman that’s just starting to figure how this life thing works. I thought by now I would have it all figured out. I come from the generation of suck it up and walk it off, put a little dirt on it, I’ll give you something to cry about. (Or maybe that’s a daddy issue thing that we’ll discuss and digest another time.) So, it’s no wonder at the current moment of life going nuts I walk into my boss’ office in tears because I haven’t slept more than 2 hours a night in a couple of weeks, confess I’ve considered running away, and just want to give it all up and this saint of a woman says, “go book a hotel room and sleep”.
Wait a minute, I can do that? I can take the day off work, drive to the nearest hotel, tell them I want a room and go to SLEEP? Yes, the answer is yes, I can do that and so can you.
Now before you let the inner critic start with “I don’t have the extra money, my partner will be angry/hurt, what about this thing and that thing, blah and blah oh and blah?’ Stop. Let’s think about the hilarity of all of that being what’s on your mind when you’re on the precipice of a mental breakdown. You’re a caregiver, a damn good one too, so good in fact that in the middle of all of this, you’re thinking about others and neglecting the one person that does the caretaking: YOU!
I dragged my tired, mascara-streaked sad face to this beautiful hotel and quietly said to the receptionist “I need a room. Not all night, but like 10 solid hours. Wait, I’m not meeting anyone for an elicit affair, why did I say that? Ugh, **sniff** I just need a quiet, dark room so I can sleep.” After the awkwardness of my request sunk in, I was warmly greeted with a knowing smile from the 50 something lady looking back at me. She gave me an excellent rate, let me check in at 10 am instead of 4pm, and gave me a voucher for a free coffee. If I could have mustered more than a teary thank you, I would have. Another woman who gets it.
I walked in, pulled the cover back for that precursor bug check, turned on the fan, took my shoes off, put on a t-shirt from my gym bag, tucked myself into the fluffy sheets and pillows of a king-sized bed and slept like the dead. A bomb could have gone off and I wouldn’t have had a clue. I woke up 7 hours later not knowing who I was, where I was, what day it was, and a wet spot on the pillowcase from drool. Surrendering to the process of allowing my mind and body to fully relax was blissful.
So, reader, I’m inviting you along on a journey with me. Find out how a 43-year-old woman made it to the point of checking into a hotel in the middle of the morning on a random Tuesday and what happens next. Go along with me on this journey of unapologetic selfcare, radical acceptance, forgiveness, guilt-free allowing of the good things that already reside within. You are welcome here. You are safe here. You are allowed to be here.
Here’s to filling our cups first.
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