They all deserve love
They all deserve love
Extending compassion to self-variations, moving progress, and some skincare product recommendations.
I seriously don’t know what Past Sara was thinking when she scheduled so much during the kids’ school break(s). But, I admire her tenacity and attention to the kids’ education.
She’s forgiven.
Onward.
In an attempt to be less critical of myself and more mindful of my journey, I mentally split myself into four variations: Future Sara, Present Sara, Past Sara, and Way-in-the-Past Sara.
Future Sara has shit figured out. I’m banking on her.
Present Sara is doing worlds better than Past Sara, but one day, I recognize that Present Sara will become Past Sara. But, Present Sara is doing her best, so she’s still on good terms with Future Sara (as far as I know). Way-in-the-Past Sara is a dear thing who needed protection she didn’t have. So, Present Sara thinks of WitP Sara, also, as someone who did her best with the microscopic amount of information she had at the time. She is automatically forgiven for anything and everything.
Maybe this whole concept is silly, but as you probably well know, we evolve constantly. I don’t see how holding way-in-the-past and even near-past versions of ourselves to the same standard we hold present and future variations is productive.
(But, Past Sara still gets some flak. What the hell was she thinking at times..?)
I don’t talk like this, to be clear—no real-life third-person referencing happens. But, in my mind, I absolutely split myself up. It helps me recover from past wrongs done to me and by me, and foolish mistakes I’ve made. It helps me offer myself forgiveness, and to focus on the future, even when the past is pounding at my subconscious’s door.
It’s a form of self-compassion. When I split myself up like this, it helps me view and treat myself as if I were a good friend I care for deeply, versus how I used to treat and view myself prior. Back when I had less compassion for the beautiful people in my life—self-variants included.
We got approved for the new apartment this week.
I’ve been hauling out and making arrangements for most of the break, in addition to the break-squeezed-in appointments my past self made.
But, Past Sara foolishly didn’t forecast the potential moving period. Granted, we didn’t expect to find a space that we’d want to secure immediately, especially not a couple of months before our actual lease ends.
Something I’ve discovered from friends who’ve never lived in a major city is that, when you find something in a major city, you have to act fast. Otherwise, it won’t be available for long. If something’s priced too high, sometimes it’ll sit for a while, then the owners/property managers get wise to why their unit or property is sitting still, and they’ll lower the cost. Other times, it doesn’t matter. When you have an influx of people moving here from more expensive cities, they may see $6,000 per month for a 1,200 square foot (111.48 m²) 2-bedroom apartment as a steal, and jump on it while you only bookmarked and monitored the space, waiting on a price decrease that never came.
So, our moving deadline advanced drastically. We leapt on a larger, definitely-not-$6,000-per-month (thankfully) unit after extensive research on the building, scouring past and present tenant reviews, and after just one viewing of the space in-person.
You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. And, for the first time since we moved to Seattle, we did it swiftly. No regrets.
(Mind you, I’m a wee bit obsessed with monitoring the real estate market year-round. It’s another form of self-compassion as a renter in a fast-ish paced city: I want to know what to expect when lease renewal time comes. I want to be able to bring research and information to negotiate potentially ridiculous lease increases and not feel like a fool for arguing with people who have access to more market information that I can’t get ahold of without a real estate license. Time blindness,1 however, often finds a way to throw me off the long game, though. But that’s a story for a different day.)
I have a love-hate relationship with moving. It leans more towards hate ever since an injury while bowling, what was later exacerbated by a move. Now, the act of moving is permanently painful and damaging to my chewing-gum-like tendons and ligaments.2 To note: I wasn’t yet diagnosed with EDS when I went bowling. That came a few years later, and post-pandemic. Had I known… I can’t say I would have made different decisions because other health issues felt more in-my-face than EDS did.
Not so anymore.
I’m unsure what Past Sara would have done, really. I’ve always been stubborn. I push through pain because Way-in-the-Past Sara was led to believe she was a “wimp” and a “whiner” for speaking up about specific activities that caused severe pain—pain lasting for weeks and months, and sometimes longer. (I’ve learned that when other people don’t suffer the same way you do, they’re often less likely to believe that you could suffer so much. They think you’re a liar, or you’re just trying to get out of something.)
Anyhow, when I’d take care of myself or take things at a slower pace trying to listen to my body, I’d be called “lazy” when I couldn’t keep up with my peers because of the pain. So, I learned to push through pain (emotional and physical), causing more and more damage, which I still ignored to avoid what I deemed more painful name-calling and overall criticism from everywhere in my life.
With nowhere safe, I forced myself to do things I shouldn’t to create a faux sense of security. Hollow, as it was.
All these push-throughs became a part of the mask I wear, still. But now I have enough self-respect to “burden” others over potentially getting stuck in a wheelchair because of continually pushing my body beyond its limits.
Present Sara is honest with doctors now, too.
“Where’s your pain level at on a scale from one to ten,” my EDS-specializing podiatrist said before one of my every-6-weeks shockwave therapy treatments recently.
“An eight. I’ve been waiting for this since the week after the last treatment,” I said, chuckling. (The most I ever used to say was a “four”—even when I was dying from a seeping appendix—out of fear of being thought of as a “whiny woman.” Yes, I was afraid of what others would think of me, let alone what they may say.)
I wasn’t ready for the pain of the last shockwave treatment. Go figure, when your pain level is heightened, the effects of shockwave therapy are significantly more painful, too. Instead of trying to remain completely quiet and still like I usually do, I gave myself permission to not “suck it up” this past time. I had to pull my foot away from the shockwave gun several times due to the torment it caused, yet, my kind podiatrist said I’m still one of his only patients who can handle a level-10 from the gun.
(I thought, Should I “handle” it, though? Okay, next time I’ll ask for it to be reduced if I need it.)
I’m preparing myself mentally for the next injury during this move. My left foot’s posterior tibial tendon is already protesting, and I’ve only hauled out the kitchen, part of my closet, and our bathroom thus far.
There’s still so much left to do, even before the packing begins.
I finally connected with our preferred moving company, and our official move-date is December 17—just before my next shockwave therapy session. That way, the inevitable injury (likely: injuries) ahead will have a mending treatment immediately following.
I want to make Future Sara proud. Her thoughts and feelings and experience matter to me.
I want to keep her out of a wheelchair, if I can. I want to prove to her that I care more about her and our future than I do about appeasing others, and looking like I won’t inconvenience anyone.
We all deserve thoughtfulness. We all deserve love. And if it takes splitting myself into four to continue giving each variation compassion, then so be it.
I hope you had a solid, restful and/or enjoyable break this week.
Before I go, I want to share some skincare products I use(d) and love.
Doctor Rogers brand has been the best skincare I’ve used in my lifetime.
My favorite products are:
The Face Cream*, filled with actives and emollients for my Sahara-dry, aging, and sensitive skin.
The Night Repair Treatment*—amazing—with gentle exfoliation, antioxidants, and prescription-strength anti-aging safe for even the most sensitive-skinned folks. I was unable to tolerate Tretinoin, however, I do use Adapalene Gel*—the most effective over-the-counter acne/anti-aging option available (U.S.) without a prescription on my forehead and nose to keep sebaceous filaments3 at bay.
The most recent addition to my routine, the Face Wash*. I was dead-set on Avène’s XeraCalm Lipid-Replenishing Cleansing Oil*, but after trying the Face Wash from Doctor Rogers, my skin didn’t get as red as it usually does (see photos below) after contact with even lukewarm water. But, cost-wise, the Cleansing Oil is less expensive, and does a great job. However, if you’re sensitive to oils like I am, go with the Face Wash, if you can. It’s much more
The Body Cream*, offering smooth, smooth skin—it completely replaced my foot cream, too.
And the Healing Balm* for my winter-beaten hands and fingernails. I use it as an eye cream at night, too. It’s a solid alternative to petrolatum-based products, however, it’s still an oil (castor-oil based), so if you’re sensitive to oils like I am, be mindful if using on the face, neck, and décolleté areas.
(I promise I will actually film and release my skincare and makeup routines someday soon.)
Also, my previous skincare-love (which Brian and my kids who care about being a part of our “Skincare Buddies” brood use), Avène.
I still use their incredible Cicalfate+ (zinc) cream* to soothe rosacea/MCAS flares. Brian and the kids use the Tolerance Control Soothing Recovery Balm* as a daily, preservative-free moisturizer—also what I used before discovering Doctor Rogers through my new dermatologist. The only reason why I stopped was to cut back on how many products I used, but also because my skin in winter needs significantly more hydration, which the Doctor Rogers brand offers (for a steeper price, though).
To give you a progression of what Doctor Rogers (partnered with prescribed Azelaic Acid, and more recently a Rosacea Quad Gel—started after the last photo was taken—formulated by my dermatologist for the rosacea):
No regrets.
My best,
Sara
P.S. I predominantly write from my personal experience as an Autistic person with ADHD, chronic illness, Anxiety, and more. Each of these factors can influence my individual experience overall, as well as my experience of each condition.
What I share is not a substitute for medical advice.
Self-identification of Autism and ADHD (what many call “self-diagnosis”) is perfectly valid. If a personal Autistic experience I write about resonates deeply with you, consider these resources on Embrace Autism (starting with the Autism Quotient Test) as a first step. If professional assessment is important to you or your life has been impeded enough that you may need to qualify for Disability, you can print your results to bring to a diagnostician. (Having all those tests completed in advance saved me a lot of money!) Although there are many more diagnosticians available, here is a comprehensive list to get you started.
Lastly, some of my opinions may have changed since I first wrote the piece that lead you here.
Comment with any questions, and I’ll respond as soon as I can.
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What is Time Blindness?, Cleveland Clinic
Ehlers-Danlos syndrome: A common but overlooked cause of chronic pain, Mayo Clinic Press