Everybody talks about baths and showers for self care for clean core related care but what about other stuff? Here are some ideas:
1. Brush your teeth. Honestly it can make anybody feel a lot better. And it’s fast!
2. Change your clothes, including your underwear. I know that sounds weird but go ahead and change your clothes twice, even three times in one day if it’s a rough day.
3. Hand sanitizer is great, but it really dries out your hands and can promote cracking. Make sure to get a fresh-scented (cucumber melon, jasmine and mint remind me of cleanliness) lotion to apply to your hands. If you hate that greasy feeling of lotion, there’s something called Corn Husker’s Lotion which is glycerin based and really moisturizing without being greasy. It doesn’t really feel like lotion and dries really fast.
4. DIY some bath/shower products. The actual DIYing products is self care! And then you get to use them... Ahhhh...
5. Do laundry! Fresh clothes = fresh mind.
6. Have a light snack and drink plenty of water. It will help you feel refreshed and sort of... internally clean? I don’t know, that’s how I view it.
7. Gently exfoliate. Removing some dead skin might make you feel clean, but be cautious and know your limits.
8. Give yourself a manicure. It doesn’t have to be nail polish. Just clean under your nails, moisturize, trim, file, give them some care. And you want to remove drastically chipped nail polish, like two and half week old nail polish. That’s one of my biggest problems with my nails.
9. Clean your glasses, if you wear them. They make lens wipes, sprays and cloths. Clean vision!
10. Sanitize your phone case and clean your phone screen. You touch it all the time, right? Might as well clean it!
11. Chew gum for a fresh taste in your mouth.
12. Clean your ears. Never put a Q-Tip inside your ear because this can lead to hearing damage, ear damage and/or ear infections. Instead, soak a cotton ball in olive oil or witch hazel and gently clean what you can reach.
[Warning: devolved into a long and somewhat personal rant.]
Is it too much to ask that people express their personal preferences/aversions/needs as personal preferences/aversions/needs rather than The Objectively Correct Thing To Avoid Of Which Others Need To Be Informed?
I should explain myself by describing my position on how to deal with everyday habits people have that others don’t like (e.g. making certain noises, leaving clutter, etc., I’m thinking especially of things that affect others who live with you.) It seems that all of us have certain aversions that don’t come with any rational justification. (Here a rational justification would be something like “not washing the silverware well increases the risk of contracting certain diseases by X amount, which offsets the benefit Y of not bothering to wash the spoons and forks carefully”.) Now these aversions may originate in culture or circumstances of upbringing, but from my experience they’re highly variable among even individuals from the same family. It seems likely that variance among individuals in the same culture is much higher than variance between cultures.
So how should you talk to someone about not violating such a personal preference? I say, firstly by actually referring to it as a personal preference, and by describing honestly what effect it has on you (this is the old suggestion of using “I statements”). Now there are certain rules in each culture dictating which things are good and bad manners, and sometimes it’s helpful or even necessary to let someone (especially someone new to the culture) know that what they are doing is generally considered wrong in the eyes of the society around them. Even this should be treated with caution, since I suspect that many are overconfident in knowing how universal certain norms are in their culture; a lot of rules apply more to subcultures or even particular social groups. Still, in most cases, I think the only informing that should be done is informing others of your own preferences and aversions and the effect on you when they’re violated. Usually it comes at very little cost to the other person to stop doing the thing, so the reasonable and decent thing for them to do is stop. Otherwise, the other person can express their preferences which make it difficult to stop doing the thing, and usually something can be negotiated (I guess this is what rationalists mean by “competing access needs”?). In the rare and unfortunate case that it really can’t be negotiated (e.g. your roommate smokes and can’t quit easily, and you can’t stand the smell coming from their breath and clothes), then you and that person may have to break up, stop hanging out, etc.
The thing is, basically nobody that I’ve hung around long enough ever seems to consider putting this technique into practice.
Instead I get talked down to by others whose tone always implies that they’re just trying to teach me an objective lesson. They explain this lesson by invoking either the evident rationality of their preference or the universally understood fact that my habit is unacceptably bad manners, and usually both. But they often go beyond saying “Don’t do that; it’s wrong because of X, Y, and Z” by seeming completely unable to cope with or tolerate what I’m doing, or just being incredibly grossed out. And maybe they genuinely are. Maybe they can’t easily change their preferences. So in general I don’t feel that I really have the right to dismiss their reaction on the grounds that it’s irrational. But the thing is that that’s often how they deal with my requests: calmly giving a brief explanation of why they don’t make rational sense and dismissing them on that ground. So when they object to something I have an aversion to, I do try to defend myself on the grounds that their objection is not actually based in rationality or some universally accepted rule in the culture. My defense based on rationality will usually be dismissed in a confident tone (for a lot of these things, especially e.g. germ-related, there are so many beliefs out there that it’s hard to argue one way or another on rational evidence). And my defense based on the behavior not generally be considered wrong is usually met by flat denial, or (in the case of one roommate) by them actually polling other people to “prove” their point, either using random people on the street (literally!) or (one time) using a sample of our mutual friends behind my back.
To more concretely illustrate what I’m talking about, here is a list of some of these habits that have come between me and people I’ve spent a lot of time with, off the top of my head mostly in no particular order:
tending to leave things out, which eventually creates clutter
leaving a pot or a couple of dirty dishes in the sink
using (recently washed) hands to select one of visibly separated dumplings on a platter being shared in a restaurant
serving oneself food with one’s own already-used utensil out of a dish being shared in a restaurant
brushing teeth standing out of the bathroom in plain view
not wiping around the bathroom sink thoroughly after washing one’s face in it, leaving visible drops
touching doorknobs or the fridge handle without washing hands first while sick with a cold
leaving (at least partially) used tissues (not during a cold but after sneezing from allergies) out in plain view, or even on one’s own bedroom desk away from common view but then running the risk of touching communal objects after having touched the desk
Can you guess which three of the above are my own complaints about things others do, rather than the reverse?
Maybe from some subtleties in my tone, you can guess that the “touching doorknobs while sick” and “serving oneself food with used utensil” are my own complaints about others. From what I understand of germ science, these are probably based in some rationality, although they’re influenced by my being raised to be rather germophobic and are probably overreactions on my part. I’ve learned to cope with them. The “brushing teeth” one is mine as well, based entirely on an irrational grossed-out reaction to many things saliva-related, which at least half a dozen roommates have seemed mystified by. I’ve mostly coped with that one, with some difficulty. (Btw this is the only “criticism” I remember making of Stranger Than Fiction, which is otherwise a great movie.)
(Yes, the two germ-related objections of mine can each be paired with an obviously parallel neighboring thing on that list, which another person objected to me doing... in both cases the very same person. I point this out in order to highlight that, ultimately rational or not, these combinations of preferences don’t even look that consistent.)
And the fact that these norms aren’t consistently enforced or practiced among people I’ve known from roughly similar backgrounds sort of vindicates my frustration at being talked down to when these things come up. For instance, I have a tendency to leave some objects out after I use them and sort of “tune them out” so that I don’t think to put them away. I once had a roommate who found this very annoying, and his way of showing it was to tell me that I “needed to learn” (literal phrasing) how to put things away, with the air of a parental figure explaining something to a teenager (he was several years older than me and most of the time a pretty cool guy). My very next roommate had a far more severe tendency to leave everything out but promptly found so many habits of mine to “teach” me not to do that I don’t recall if I ever found the energy to tell him his clutter was annoying me; if I did, it certainly didn’t change his behavior. I could go on with more examples, but you get the idea. It doesn’t help that to most people I give off an impression (definitely not entirely false) of “not having common sense”.
Of course I try to practice what I preach. I’ve probably slipped up occasionally, but I think nowadays I present my preferences as Objective Etiquette pretty darn close to never -- at least, I can’t remember the last time when I did. But nobody around me seems to follow this standard. The result is that my preferences tend to get dominated by the preferences of people close to me. I mean, this is a major part of the reason that since finishing graduate school I made a priority of and put lots of money towards not having roommates anymore.
In fact, the one exceptional subculture that I think seems very likely to follow the approach I described above is the rationalist community. I’ve never spent time with rationalist community members in real life, so I can’t say for certain, but if this impression is correct then it is one major bulletpoint under the “pro” side of pros vs. cons of getting a job in the Bay Area and living with rationalists.
Mysophobia and Rhypophobia Discussion and Examples
I have rhypophobia. It’s not the same as mysophobia/”germphobia.”
Rhypophobia is the phobia of filth, dirt, etc. It is not related to germs or viruses necessarily.
Mysophobia is the fear of contamination, germs and/or infection. It’s definitely related to germs and viruses.
Examples: A person with rhypophobia may be triggered by watching mud wrestling, having oily skin, spilling food on themself, etc. A person with mysophobia may be triggered by doctor’s offices, somebody coughing without covering it or somebody spitting on the ground.
-have bright red hands almost all the time from using too much hand sanitizer (hygiene compulsion).
-have had a panic attacks because the sound of other people’s (or my own) eating is way too much to handle (misophonia).
-was hospitalized because I had suicidal plans because of misophonia.
-have small scars all over my scalp and legs from where I picked and ripped out scabs (dermatillomania).
-hoard small pieces of “clean trash.” (hoarding tendencies)
-have had intrusive dreams and thoughts about incest, violence and other uncomfortable situations that I would hate.
-sometimes cringe when people talk, even if it’s not loudly (misophonia).
-once became secretly furious with a stranger for laughing at me in front of my friends and still ruminate on it to this day. It was more than a year ago.
-have almost finished two ounces (one of those purse-sized ones) of hand sanitizer in less than an hour.
I want to drink hand sanitiser so maybe I could feel clean again, but I can't do that without poisoning myself, so maybe I should get wasted on vodka, it's the closest thing.
You there, wriggling alongside me. All of your legs and those antennae. Searching through our surroundings by touch. I can't see anything. I guess you can't see anything either. We're too big and too small and too overfed and too similar. Sometimes I wonder if I have shed you away from myself in fragile layers like desiccated coconut falls from a soft lamington, or perhaps I have picked up parts of you as you've also naturally shed? I have added it to myself slowly as we go, and now we might as well be the same creature. Are we making our way somewhere? Or trying to find something? Or are we all waiting in this space together for some other reason? Waiting for something to happen? How many of us are there? You've got extensions that protrude outwards from something that flaps like a fin. I glide, then waddle like a duck. We never really stop, only to reach out and search for a clear path, or an obstacle. What's that between us though? What allows us to slide past each other, and collect so closely like this in one place? Is that slime? Are you covered in slime? Am I? I try to alter my position to bring my arm and right hand towards my face. My left arm is pinned down by something. It's heavy, but it could move? Maybe it will move? I think it's alive, so... I'll have to wait until it moves. My face is itchy and I want to scratch my nails into it, but it's just so crowded in here. Everyone will notice me if I dig at my skin again. Maybe you're covered in oil? Or spit? Or condensation from my warm breath fogging up this cold space? My right hand drags past something with scales. I can feel scales. How did you get there? How did I get here? What do you look like? Maybe if my face stops itching I will be able to focus properly. Why can't I see anything? Your stomach is wrapped around the back of my neck. I can hear you digesting something. I can hear lots of things. I can hear everything bustling loudly around us, but it's muffled. Can you hear that noise too? We're all cramped and contorted against each other, and my ear carefully distinguishes between the loud ticking, and beating, and thumping, and swimming. I feel like we're underwater. Are we underwater? No, everything is too viscous. And cluttered. And complicated. And crashing. I can't believe that there's crashing. A collision is happening every second and we're always, always shedding. And there's grit. There are grains suspended here with us. Betwixt us. Particles coating the surface around us, and they pass over our flesh in the same way that exfoliation beads grind into tissue. So much grit and all of this tissue. I still don't know what's happening. I can breathe though. It's surprisingly easy to breathe. How am I breathing? A tail just shifted in front of me. I think that was a tail? Maybe. It's the end of you, or is it the beginning? You definitely picked up speed for a moment anyway. There are feelers pressing into the skin on my ankle. They try to work their way underneath the tongue of my shoe. I close my eyes, and clench my jaw, and grit my teeth, and a tightening grip spreads throughout my toes. They are curling. So much curling and I'm fighting. I'm silent, and I'm still, but I'm fighting. They give up. I feel you writhing beneath my feet. I bring my chin to my chest and count back from ten. Ten. Nine. Eight... Which way is up? I realise I don't know in which direction I should be heading. Eight! Stay focused. Seven. Six... You engulf my hand as I count, and suck between my fingers. I can't stop my spine from shuddering. I take exception to my current circumstance and I don't want to know if you have teeth, do I? Teeth are so interesting. Gnashing and ripping and chomping. They leave such fascinating prints behind them, like feet, like weather, like inked up etches. I retract my arm and keep it close to my body. Five. Four. Three... Maybe if I pretend that I'm in an open field, and you're still there, but you're not. In this imaginary space you're hiding away in distant trees too far from where I stand comfortably, and I can't see you, or something, yes. All of that is happening instead of you actually dragging yourself through my personal space. I try to focus on that. Three. Two. One. You move and my left arm is released. Finally. I open and close my fingers and attempt to ignore the sensation of blood pulsing back through my limbs. You kick outwards and knock the air from my lungs. It bubbles over my mouth, and my cheeks and nostrils, and that change in surface tension sends you into shock. You scramble and try to hide under my skin. I can feel you burrowing in. I shake every part of myself and brush my hands down each side, across my legs, over my forehead, and wipe the space behind my ears on the patches of shirt covering my shoulders. You scurry and scamper trying to find new places to fill. You are everywhere. I grab at the soap, and a brush, and push it into the grooves between my nails and fingertips. I let the warm water flow over the suds until it heats up further, and scrubs, and scalds, and only these words break through the steam "Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One".
