Self-Care in Recovery
“Self-care” is a cultural buzzword.
For many, it elicits images of luxury or momentary comforts to temporarily relieve everyday stress—like a glass of wine in a bubble bath, or spending the evening watching Netflix in a face mask. While these two examples aren’t bad things, they aren’t necessarily authentic self-care either.
I’ve had a strange relationship with the term self-care myself, as I have a tendency to vacillate between what my husband calls my “two speeds:” an intensely choleric overdrive (in which I move at high speed through the many things I need to do) and escape, where I’m prone to try and calm myself by reaching for something easy and immediate to soothe me. This pattern has been present for a long time. While, again, it’s not wrong to watch a show or have a glass of wine, it can be unhealthy if it’s a consistent coping mechanism.
Self-care, to me, has become a necessary part of recovery—and it’s been all the more necessary that it becomes real self-care.
Over the past decade as I’ve learned more about my unique mind, body, and soul—and the patterns of both strength and weakness I have—I’ve come to see both the “speeds” I tend towards as a result of my own dysregulation, not my temperament (shoutout to the choleric melancholic women!). Self-care has become a way to find a balanced middle, where I can feel regulated, alert, and do what’s in front of me well: whether that’s working or resting.
There’s a tendency in a lot of Christian recovery resources to encourage fasting and penance as a way to resist temptation. Fasting and penance are an enriching part of our faith, especially when followed as the Church has directed in the liturgical calendar or through the confessional. But imposing fasting and penance as a “catch-all” solution for sexual compulsion misses the point. Because we’re often reaching for those compulsions out of a need to self-regulate, deprivation may just create a pendulum swing between itself and indulgence—the balance lies in an authentic care for the self that truly regulates the mind, body, and soul.
I think this authentic self-care—in recovery and in general—looks like a fusion between discipline and rest that requires a deep knowledge of ourselves. Where do we tend to reach for easy coping mechanisms? What emotions or circumstances dysregulate us easily? Conversely, where do we deny ourselves what we really need?
Indulgence is likely not going to be helpful when trying to attain real regulation—that’s where discipline comes in—but deprivation and constant restriction can also create the perfect breeding ground for sexual compulsion to pose itself as a way to cope: the need for calm and rest. Finding this balance is finding something virtuous.
If you’re looking to create a rhythm of self-care in recovery, start with a few categories—perhaps where you tend to feel most triggered and dysregulated. Think of the categories of prayer, movement, mental health, and nutrition as a start. It takes discipline to have a routine in any of these areas, but as the saying goes, “If you take care of order, order will take care of you.”
Discernment in self-care, again, takes self-knowledge, and perhaps a release of guilt or apathy. You are worthy of care, and this can be an incredibly challenging thing to believe.
So much of self-care will be determined by your particular triggers, needs, and circumstances. If you’re a person experiencing regular or immense stress, self-care may look like a routine with a lot more calming practices, such as low-impact exercise, long walks, or weekly therapy. If you’re struggling with a season of apathy or isolation, it may look like scheduling one social event every week. If you’re struggling with self-loathing, self-care might mean taking the time to cook yourself a dinner you’ll truly enjoy and be nourished by every night. The possibilities are truly endless, but what brings you regulation is key.
What gives you a sense of calm from which you can live well?
What truly brings peace and helps us choose the path to virtue?
While it’s been almost ten years since unwanted sexual behavior was part of my life, true self-care has become crucial to my well-being. As I’ve written above, the patterns that helped feed my compulsions have taken a lot of time to address, and I’m far from done with the journey.
For me, self-care has looked like a rhythm that keeps my mind and body moving at a calm but alert pace throughout the day, and helps me relax at the end of the day when my stress has always tended to spike.
Trying to create this rhythm for myself and avoid the “two speeds” has been incredibly helpful. My current routine involves morning exercise and prayer in the quiet before my kids wake up, and my evening routine involves turning off any technology at a certain time, and relaxing with a book or my husband before heading to sleep. I have many other things that are important to me in self-care, but they all involve some level of commitment and effort. For instance, it’s not necessarily easy to get up early in the morning, but I feel the sense of peace I'm looking for when I take that time.
When looking for ways to care for yourself, don’t look for “easy,” but don’t look for “hard” either. Look for what brings you the peace you deserve, and helps you reach for life—not for coping mechanisms.