Why is it so Hard to Relax?

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I need to be held accountable, so I am doing a full on confessional today. I am currently studying my habits and trying to fix them. I am gathering some of my favorite pieces of advice from books and podcasts and assembling them into an action plan. (I need to find a more relaxing way to plan to relax).

Last month was brutal on my health. I wasn’t ‘wellness me.’ I was stressed, exhausted, worried and running on empty. I barely had time to sleep much less take care of myself toward the end of the month. I skipped lunch about 85% of the month. It was horrible. And now, I am recalibrating.

They say March is the month of balance because the hours of darkness and light are almost the same. Neither is really longer than the other. I am going to take that message to heart.

I am wedding planning and getting things done in every spare minute. (There are few). This past week, thanks to many heavy files and boots with a heel, my lower back was killing me after many consecutive court days. I decided it was time for a massage. I was long overdue. Massages are like heaven to me.

I walked over there today, and the lady told me it would be a 15 minute wait. I didn’t mind. These women are magical. They are like mind readers when it comes to pressure points and pain. I started getting ready in the little room. I walked over to the restroom and pulled my hair back and walked back over to my room. My clumsy self hit the edge of my glasses frame against the door frame. I stumbled with that whiplash as I walked in. I started cleaning my coat pockets and checked my phone (for what I thought was) one last time.

The lady walked in and told me to just lie down and rest while she finished up. I smiled and nodded, signaling I understood her broken English, and she disappeared behind the curtain like a quick mouse.

I lay down on the massage table with the blanket draped over me. I stared at the ceiling. I saw my coat pocket light up. A text message. I stared at the ceiling and wondered why I was so antsy and couldn’t just unwind and forget about the world.

I sat up and leaned over toward my coat pocket. I laughed internally at the fact that I was trying to be as quiet as possible. I was sneaking around into my own coat pocket, ashamed at the fact that I couldn’t just pass out for a power nap. I guess the lady heard me because she flung the curtain open and looked at me like “tsk tsk.” She shut off the lamp and light in my room, and said, “SLEEP NOW.” She gave me a pillow and rolled me up in the blanket like a taquito. She disappeared, and I looked up at the ceiling like an ashamed puppy, hands bound at my side like a mummy thanks to the blanket. It was then that I decided to rest. I relaxed my feet, and then my legs, and then, the rest of my body.

When it was time for the massage, I was so tight I thought I was going to cry. She raked my muscles with zero compassion. I left like a new person. She berated me while I paid that I need to relax more.

I know she is right. Why is it so hard to relax? I type with my back feeling the delightful soreness of having been cracked open.