Self-care is not self-indulgence. Or, at least, not always.

Fall is a difficult time for a lot of us with mental health issues.  Of course, I don't have stats to back that up, but anecdotally, a lot of my friends have said the same thing. We struggle with the changing of the seasons.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love fall.

I can finally wear pants, cardigans, heavy boots, and cute scarves. I'm not inundated with boob sweat or swass. Also, everything is flavoured in pumpkin, and that's just exciting.

I love the cozy nights by the fire place and the crisp breezes and the colours of the leaves. What I don't like is the crippling depression and dread that sometimes goes with it.

So, it was fitting that on October 10th, the day set aside to discuss World Mental Health, I couldn't get out of bed.

It is no secret I have depression and anxiety issues.  I've joked about them time and time again.

I have written seriously about them too.

Depression, pain, and the lies they tell
When I jumped on the meditation bandwagon

With that in mind, I've been thinking a lot about self-care.

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Self-care has recently become a bit of a catchphrase that has lost all meaning.  (Like saying "tartlet" too many times! source)

It seems to me that now it is all lithe blond girls on Instagram who take pictures of themselves with large glasses of wine and a hashtag of #lol #blessed #selfcare!

And, while I'm sure that is also true, that's not always helpful for most of us.

What is self-care?

Self-care may better be described as emotional health care.

It is taking care of one's self so as to be the healthiest, best version of you.  It's doing the things to make that happen and to be gentle with yourself when those things aren't an option.

The trouble we come across, as a society, is that we seem to have gotten lost in the line between being gentle with ourselves and giving in to our every whim in a guise of "self-care".

Some days, me staying in bed all day is the only thing I can do. In order to take care of what I need to that day, I can stay there and not feel guilty or lazy.  I just do it and know that tomorrow will be a different day.

The problem is when I'm on day 3 of staying in bed all day.

That is not self-care.  That is depression taking over.

At that point, self-care is bribing myself with pie if I get out of bed and take a shower.

It's all about balance.

But again, if I only eat pie for breakfast every day and then get myself that extra-large latte and treat myself to ice cream for lunch - for a week - that isn't self-care. That is over-indulgence and emotional eating.

Sometimes, self-care is doing things we don't want to do, but that are good for us.

We have to be the "parents" of our bodies and our health - both physical and mental.

Just like with real parents, we need boundaries, we need rules, but we also need to shuck those rules sometimes and go to the zoo.

Be good to yourselves.

When I jumped on the meditation bandwagon

I am a fairly high-strung person.

I look calm and collected, but inside my head I am freaking the @#*& out.

I come by it honestly.  My mother was this kind of person too.  It was said she could put her head on one chair and her feet on another without sagging in the middle.

I resemble that remark.

My shoulders are never relaxed.  My jaw is always clenched.  My head is always aching.

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My mind never stops considering the options of disaster and woe that lay ahead of me.  I go over every conversation that didn't go as planned, every thing I wish I had done differently, and every thing that I might have to do or say in the coming months.

It makes sleeping rather difficult.

Actually, it also makes being awake rather difficult as I can get so ramped up that my resting heart rate is 100 on a regular basis.

When the "mindfulness" trend started many years ago, people started telling me about it.  It was presented as a perfect solution to settle my disquieted mind and really focus on the present.

Pardon me while I hurl.

Truthfully, the first few times I tried mindful meditation, it filled me with such uncontrollable rage I had to stop right then.  It didn't get better for a long time.

Then I started yoga.

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Everyone who knows me, knows I'm a huge yoga fan (you have to check out Yoga with Adriene, she is the greatest!).  I have taken classes in a picturesque brick room with the city bustling beneath me while I settle into the mat and am at peace for the first time in a long time.  I have taken busy active yoga with a crammed room of 50 other people while the sweat pours down my face.  I have settled into a nice mix of both in my living room while I get ready for the day.

Finally, I understood what meditation is about.  But I had to learn it while DOING something.

Once I had that, I realized I could move into exploring what meditation could do beyond the mat.

I started listening to a guided meditation on Calm.com on my iPhone.  I found I didn't hate the voice of the woman so I could sit through it without being all ragey.  This is an important first step.

Second step was working my way up from 2 to 10 and finally 25 minutes.

Just sitting and being is really hard when you're a doer and a worrier.  It feels weird.

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I'm not solved.  I still have anxiety filled nights of insomnia, but they are fewer than they were.  I still have rock hard shoulder and neck muscles (and not the kind that are enviable) but I have ways to work them out.

Now, I try and do yoga three times a week and I do nightly meditation to fall asleep.

I'm still awake at 4 in the morning, but I am taking deep breaths while I am.