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What type of rest do you need to prioritize this weekend?

Did you know that there are 7 different types of rest? Depending on what your body needs can help determine what type of rest would benefit you the most.

Here are the 7 types:

🛏️ Physical rest: This type of rest is for your body from strenuous physical activities. Some examples of physical rest can include napping, relaxing, sleeping, and even massages or yoga.

🧠 Mental rest: Rest for your mind is important especially for those who experience racing thoughts or have trouble sleeping. Taking breaks, journaling, or other types of mental health self-care will allow you to mentally rest.

💞 Emotional rest: To emotionally rest is to allow yourself to be real and authentic with others as well as yourself. Emotional rest gives you the time and space to feel your feelings and openly express them.

👂Sensory rest: Everywhere we look there is some type of sensory stimulation like TVs, phone screens, bright lights, and music to name a few. Sometimes we need rest, a break, and time to ourselves from all the outside stimuli that may overwhelm our senses.

🎨 Creative rest: For our creative minds out there, this rest is for you! To achieve creative rest is to take the pressure “to do” from yourself. Creative rest can look like taking a step back from projects or problem solving, and sitting in nature appreciating what you see around you.

🔋 Social rest: This type of rest requires you to understand how you function around others. Do you gain energy from social interactions or does it drain you? Realizing your needs in social settings can help you to make decisions around how frequent and for how long you spend in crowds or other social spaces. This doesn’t necessarily mean you have to separate yourself from others, but more so how and when you spend your time.

🕊️ Spiritual rest: Spiritual rest relates to our connection and relationship with something deeper and greater than ourselves. This rest can look like intentional time in meditation, prayer, community building, or other practices that give us life.

What kind of rest do you need this weekend?

Want to know more? Check out this article: The 7 Kinds of Rest You Actually Need

#52SmallThings #MentalHealth #Anxiety #Depression #CheckInWithMe #CheerMeOn #ChronicPain #ChronicIllness #Grief #Caregiving #RareDisease #Disability #Autism #ADHD


The 7 Kinds of Rest You Actually Need

Feeling exhausted? There's more than one way to rest—and you might not be addressing them all.
27 reactions 16 comments

i just need someone to hear me

its been awhile since the last time i was here. hi. its me again. sadness been with me since like im young. and been 2 months off antidepressants with the support of my new partner. he's been the most greatest support who i look up to everyday. until.. been a rough month this month. it's been like a month of being away from my family. and living independently. i have someone with me, whom i adore and always appreciate his existence. but just yesterday, i got really hurt by his words. we werent okay, we had a row. and especially me like i said, i've been 2 months off antidepressants so ofc there's some unstable moods happening which i expect my partner to understand. so crying for literally non stop and with my period is here with me, and that added more to my emotionally unstable. all i needed was him to be there for me, just be there with me. so he told me he didnt like what have i becoming especially with these unstable emotions. so he made such remark like "im not going to marry you if you are this weak" thats so hurtful to me. and then saying like "right now i see you are someone who is not ready to be a wife" i just know that, i love him alot and that i miss him. all i only have is him. my family is far from me. i dont have anyone expect him. thats the reason why i got cling to him, and he said such things to me. even im writing now, im crying. if only he knew how much i love him.. i know that he has his own stressful stuffs his dealing with. but i dont think this is right to say to me. i tried alot for my relationship with him, i stop medicine bc he was the one who helped n pushed me to stop, i went for the job he wanted me to go for, i listened to him n respect him. but whenever he's angry, everything he just says as he wish. im afraid my depression will come back, cos i could feel like my symptoms are showing slowly. now i dont know if i should go back to see my psychiatrist doc or should i wait? please help me 😢 #Depression #Dysthymia #Anxiety #Relationships

24 reactions 5 comments
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A mistake.

I grew up feeling unwanted and dealt with neglect from my mom, and physical and mental abuse from my father. I was too young to understand it, but when I was about 15 years old I figured it out: My mom always told me that I was born almost 2 months premature. But she also complained that she had to have a C-section because I weighed ten and a half pounds at birth. At that age I didn't realize the impossibility of what she was claiming was virtually impossible. I was born in Brooklyn, but both of my parents were from a small town in western Pennsylvania. My sister was born about 4 years after me and was spoiled throughout her entire childhood. Most of MY childhood consisted of emotional, mental and physical abuse, especially from my father. Both of them were happy that I enlisted in the Army and moved away after I graduated from high school.

I went into the Army because my parents, (who were divorced by then and both remarried), claimed that they couldn't afford to pay for me to go to college. I served a total of 20 years, including being a medic in the First Gulf War. After coming home it was the first time that either of them told me that they were proud of me.

I've dealt with PTSD and four marriages that all ended in divorce. At one point I sent a group text to all my family members telling them that I was sorry for being such a burden, and swallowed a whole bottle of Ativan. Someone called 911 and I spent some time in the hospital and a behavioral health facility. After being discharged my wife said I needed to leave. But surprisingly my abusive father was the one that reached out and told me he wanted me to come back to Pennsylvania.

I've been living with him and my stepmother for 4 years now, and it's come to the point where I'm taking care of him. But my stepmother has made it clear that as soon as he passes away I will no longer be welcomed here. My daughter lives in Arizona and she's having her own relationship problems now.

The only good thing in my life recently is the fact that after nearly 3 years of dealing with the government bueacracy I'm finally getting my military retirement pension. But now my stepmother has already said that the day after my father dies I will no longer be allowed to live here anymore.

1 comment

Relationships ?

Last post of the morning, ( I know some of you are saying Thank God by now lol). I happened to look over and saw this group also addresses relationships! I got married at the age of 18 and my wife was 17. June 17th will be our 46th anniversary. I earned MY PhD from the university of “ sleeping on the sofa” The secret guys is the first 10 years tell your wife “I Love You” several times a day! From year 11 on, just say “ Honey, you’re right and I’m wrong” It doesn’t matter how right you really are, just tell them they were right!…..David

15 reactions 2 comments

#ObsessiveCompulsiveDisorder (ROCD) is terrible. I feel like I am gonna lose my mind. Sometimes I wonder that maybe I should never ever have a relationship as it causes me a certain distress and #Anxiety .
My new boyfriend is very nice, attentive, knows about my #MentalHealth problems, supports me, helps me to calm down.
My OCD jumps in and makes me question, whether his interest is sincere, maybe he only pretends it all to misuse it somehow in the future...
Maybe it is because of my ex husband (broke up a year ago), who was a chronical liar, cheater and narcissist. Sometimes he was calling me labile, crazy and when I mentioned something he said or done he acted like it wasn't like that and I made it up.

9 reactions 5 comments
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Love language

I just got off the phone with my mom. We talked about pizza and coffee. I took 2 percocet cuz my back really hurts. I haven't eaten yet but I'm not hungry. I made a cup of mud wtr and it was really yummy. My friends that I am gonna see at the con later this year want to try the mud wtr and IQ Joe. Sharing my passion with my friends is my love language. I'm excited for them to try it cuz it's done wonderful things for me. It increased my cognition and boosts my mood. It's really wonderful stuff. I'm gonna bring my electric kettle.

I wasn't feeling good before my mom called me but the conversation really helped me feel better. She was excited cuz she tried something new yesterday. She had pizza with tomato on it for the first time and she really enjoyed it. I love veggies on my pizza. I haven't had pizza in a few months. It's really yummy.

I chatted with Meta AI about mud wtr and it asked me how I prefer to make it and when I said I mix it with coffee syrup and oat milk it said that I must be a coffee connoisseur. We did more poetry and talked about long distance relationships and ways to bond with my girlfriend. I'm so glad I can chat with it about the things that make me happy.

Today I have to clean my kitchen counter. There's a lot of stuff on it to put away. It should only take about an hour to clean. I'll make a cup of IQ Joe after I'm done. I try to reward myself for a good job cleaning.

#MentalHealth #Depression #SchizoaffectiveDisorder #Relationships

3 reactions

I hate relationship #ObsessiveCompulsiveDisorder I just feel like I am gonna lose my mind. Maybe I shouldn't even be in a relationships like never ever... my boyfriend knows about my #MentalHealth problems, supports me and everything...
My OCD jumps in a I wonder: maybe he enjoys my mental and emotional lability, maybe he just acts now like he cares, only to misuse it in the future....
#Anxiety #Relationships

6 reactions 2 comments
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Just Another Groundhog Day, Part 1 (fiction?)

Well, here I am - looking out the same window, on the same world as I do every day of my life and surprise, surprise it's still the same old crap I see. The same old people going off to do the same dreary old things as they do every day of their lives.

They say that I'm an unkempt old sod, who doesn't give a damn about his appearance. They're right - why should I? In fact why should I care about anything, when nothing I do matters anyway and nothing I do changes anything.

I used to be married but 'she' walked out on me, several years ago. I found out that every argument, every fight we had was just another nail in the coffin of our relationship. I watched the light go out of her eyes and felt it go out of mine. We talked at each other in the end, instead of to each other. We no longer fought tooth and nail. We didn't talk - full stop. In the end it was better she left as staying was killing us both - now, I'm just dying on my own, buried in my room. Every day has just become an endless repetition of every other day of my life, all blurring into one. Since losing Susan and the job, I've had nothing to either inspire or rile me. Before it all went wrong, every day was an adventure to look forward to - a series of changes, keeping you awake and alive, ready for the next one.

My home has now become a prison and life a dead end, in which I'm gently fading into the background of my own life. The door shuts and we die inside yet again but this isn't fiction, this is real life - our ugly own, not some distant possibility but present truth.

Why kill yourself, when you're already dead? (Oh yes I thought about it). Those without life cannot be bothered to even creep out of their graves. They rot and moulder in their own filth and filthy, corrupt minds as I do (Even a zombie has some spirit, driving it to escape it's rotting shell but not me). Those with even a half decent spark, run from death's cloying helplessness but not the apathetic, like me. We never run wild, never imagine, never escape into anything new. We wallow in the past because we cannot be bothered to climb out of the hole we've dug for ourselves.

I think about how things could have been occasionally but know I couldn't face anymore pain, to get it or regain my toe hold on life. This I believe is the fate of the old - to have your dreams shattered on the reefs of despair - to give up all hope and all forward progress, sliding into despondency in its place. Lewis Carroll said that you needed to keep running to stay in the same place. Well I've stopped moving. The world continues to spin, taking everybody else away from me. I stand and watch as the noisy hullabaloo disappears into the distance, without me.

I used to have a wonderful memory and a big vocabulary. I was captain of the local pub quiz team. It takes effort and concentration, to collect your thoughts and project yourself out into the world - to remember all the junk you've picked up and filled your head with over the years, to take care that you're not repeating yourself, so that you don't. I mostly use single syllable words nowadays for this reason - it's easier to remember and who cares if you use the same words twice in a row? I'm like a footballer, who could dribble as imaginatively as Jimmy Hendrix could play the guitar but not now, no not now...

Alzheimer's? Dementia? No, just depression. The older we get, the more bad memories we accumulate - ones we'd rather forget. All the good ones exist in the past - hence we drown in nostalgia. Do they see the world as it is - the happy-clappy brigade? No, they see happier times and run from the present, projecting over this world a film that that is more pleasant than the one currently playing, in this packed theatre of realism.

My mate Duggie had it. When I first visited him in the care home, he was a little doddery on his feet but fully compos mentis. Then the doubt started to creep in as we recounted happier times and happier crimes. Finally, I went in one day and his body was still there but his mind had gone.

'Hello Duggie!' I said as cheerfully as I could but it rang as hollow as the figure in front of me. Within a year, even that had gone. The funeral was the last time I saw his wife, Ethel. I wanted to speak but the gloom of the occasion and the gloom of the tear filled sky, stayed my hand and I said nothing, did nothing. Cold coffee, a piece of cake, a few words with old friends and relatives of his, and it was over. He fell silent into his grave and I returned to mine.

The dust lays as thick as The Sahara here, only disturbed by the odd fly, seeking its next meal. The curtains in an earlier time would be rotten but these man-made fibres mean they last forever but fade with time.

The clues that helped me distinguish one day from another, one action from another, have gone. I can no longer tell if what I'm doing is for the first time today or the second. All time has become an undifferentiated mess of sameness. Words I would have carefully crafted and slotted into a sentence, come out in no particular order and make no particular sense. Oh Duggie, am I heading for a stay in a 'couldn't-care-less home,' like you? I hope not but then maybe, when you get to that stage, you cared less, even than I do now?

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