How Going to a Luxury Nail Spa Helped Me Confront My Depression
I came out of my chiropractor’s office to sit in my van for a moment. I’m nervous.
How many people are here anyway? It’s cold out.
I decided to try to trick myself into going inside. Next to the office I had just come out of is a nail spa, a luxury nail spa.
My internal dialogue is warring away. I made a goal this month to do some things to try to take better care of myself. I have been working on the “deep” stuff like writing, yoga, cold therapy, meditation, etc. You get the idea. I wanted to take a leap into the superficial as a means of introducing chaos and changing my constructed perspective.
I am a habitual depressant from time to time. My depression overall is persnickety and wears different hats. This particular one, the habit hat, has been sneaky and squirrely to deal with. I become depressed like someone who riffles through the fridge when they have nothing to do. Thoughts of my shortcomings, reasons I’m not valid, and analyzing conversations to turn them into something regrettable is something to think and to do like a nervous scab picker.
My goals are simple and clear. I want to have my nails manicured and tipped, have my hair cut and colored, and have my piercings in my ears done, maybe an eyebrow or a lip.
