Buy the Damn Burrito
(Originally written in February. Still may be relevant or useful to some).
In the wake of another surgery for my son, my dear friend visiting and helping out with things I felt too overwhelmed to do, a backlog of work I steadily chip at but never seem to complete, awaiting the outcome of a job interview, and the general grind of winter, the pandemic, the anniversary of my father’s death, and so on…I find myself depressed.
It’s not really surprising. This time of year is always difficult for me—I am a fire child, a sun lover, a needer of blossom and buzz to stay lively. Add all the other stuff on top of it and once the main crisis is over and all the visitors have gone, I tend to crash. Sometimes hard.
One of the results of this is that I start to castigate myself for not getting the work done, for leaving my basement in such dishabille, even for things like not feeling like cooking or wanting to rest or…anything else I can find to wound myself, as if doing more emotional self-harm is somehow going to make things better rather than the paralysis and deeper woe it inevitably causes.
To wit, this morning I had determined I would go to several different places to buy things to save a dollar here and there. But I was too tired. I didn’t want to. I ended up buying the things all in one place, even if they weren’t as cheap. I hadn’t had breakfast yet and stood in front of a freezer case for at least five minutes, arguing with myself because I felt I shouldn’t spend the $1.99 for a frozen breakfast burrito. But the thought of having to scramble the eggs, bake the bacon, assemble the tortilla, etc., was just exhausting. I knew I wouldn’t do it. And yet I also knew that I really wanted a breakfast burrito.
Friends, I am here to tell you: Buy the damn burrito!
I did and I’m happier as a result.
I’m not saying we should choose convenience over frugality all the time, and I realize there’s a host of reasons not to buy prepared foods, but today when just getting out of bed (and staying out of bed!) seems an epic struggle, when all the awful voices inside are yelling at me about everything under the sun, you know what? One little breakfast burrito tossed in the microwave isn’t gonna hurt.
I tell you this because if you, like me, are experiencing some form of this, I want to encourage you to be kind to yourself. Being kind to myself is actually a learned skill for me. Whenever someone is kind to me, I’m immediately suspicious because of the pall depression casts over everything. Depression for me is like a pair of gray-lensed glasses I can’t take off. I see everything through this color, and it is very hard to see any other. (I’d take rose-colored glasses any day over this!)
Being kind to yourself doesn’t mean you have to overdo it, of course. But one damn burrito, one tiny nap, one fun pen or pack of stickers…whatever little thing might cheer you up and make you feel a little better?
Go for it. This blog right here is your permission.