Self-Care:
Musings from a Clinical Psychologist

Right, so…you’ve let me vent about my gripe with present-day notions of ‘self-care’. I’ve presented thereafter the problem at hand, as I see it (‘noise’ saturation). Now what’s the solution I propose?
Sleep.
That’s it…quite underwhelming, I know, but let me explain.

You will recall that the problematic feature I highlighted in the vignette (Part 2), and, indeed, in all our lives, was the sheer amount of noise that we contend with on a daily basis. Our ancestors, although plagued with grave battles of their own, simply didn’t have the stimulation-saturation levels to contend with that we do. This ‘noise’, the cumulative effects of which are difficult to quantify or track (unbeknownst to your conscious awareness you are constantly bombarded by it), is what has become so negatively salient about our modern lives.

Sleep offers a natural solution to this problem because when you are asleep you are essentially unconscious, offline. You are protected by in large from the noise of the daily grind, which allows thus your brain to capitalise on this temporarily induced serene state that is sleep so that your brain can be ‘cleaned out’ each night, like an efficient garbage collection service.

It is possible, though, as in the case of the vignette, that the noisiness of our dreams might punctuate our sleep, but this is a rarity. Even so, sleep offers the most sanguine solution to the problem of daily noise attenuation. I am not suggesting that it’s the only solution, of course, but given its foundational importance to our overall wellbeing and functioning, I will continue to sing its praises as the ‘act supreme’ in one’s self-care repertoire.

I referred in passing in the previous chapters to the notion that sleep is central to the re-configuration of our brain’s neurochemistry. This statement remains an instantiated fact a million times over, confirmed and corroborated by every corner of every science that has an interested in the brain and its functioning. However, outside of the alignment of these corners, sleep, clearly so vital to our functioning, no longer receives nearly as much prioritisation as it should. In fact, some of the commitments that we undertake in our lives today aim to compete for – or even undermine – its necessity. Some of this ‘competition’ cannot be done away with (like holding down a job that happens to finish later that one would like), but other sources of competition – equally, if not more – egregious to our natural sleep cycles, are willingly pursued or entered in to as if we have no choice (e.g., using cocaine recreationally on the weekends, or becoming a volunteer workaholic. Note: in both instances here, I am not referring to ‘addicts’ of either referent). Being paid a lot of money to work sixty, seventy-plus hours a week is the kind of competition that I am referring to. Wouldn’t it be an interesting experiment to get some data from a representative sample of your ‘average CEO’ to see how much they value your, and your colleagues, sleep? Probably very little, I would presume (…likely because they’re interested in other things).

So, sleep. It has become a prized commodity. As a clinical psychologist, I rarely hear of people sleeping well and have noted further that when people do find themselves in a poor patch of sleep (for whatever reason), they seem to struggle to know how to auto correct this otherwise temporary disturbance. There are times, granted, when the quality of one’s sleep isn’t going to be optimal; pregnancy, the first year (if one is so lucky!) of parenting a newborn, the week before your thesis deadline, or final prep for an upcoming presentation at work, to name a few. Sleep in these instances, given the emotional valences associated with these demands, is very likely going to be compromised. But this is only whilst the thing that’s driving the valence is experientially relevant (i.e., you are actively contending with it). Assuming that one day newborns will grow up, and work presentations will come and go, we need simply try in these instances take these moments on the chin – ride them out, as it were – and see them through to their eventual, natural conclusion (or get help, if at all possible, as in the case with poor sleep during infancy. One could hire a night nurse or call on family to assist).

What I find in my practice as a clinical psychologist is that many people are poorly able these days to home in on and focus on one thing at a time. This, I feel, has everything to do with the stimulation-saturation point I was making earlier. It’s like expecting them to stand next to a bubble-blowing machine going full tilt and asking them to pick out their favourite bubble. In Nakamise (Toyko). At night.

In such wayward times, I might help them to try cut through the noise in order to see the effects that innocently indulging in binge-watching Netflix/Youtube before bed (in the name of self-care) might, inadvertently, have a lot to do with their encroaching lethargy the next day. There might arguably be something positive you are getting from relaxing and watching Netflix at night (if one’s serotonin stores are ‘normal’), but what is certainly guaranteed to happen is that, soon enough, such an act will eventually lead to far more being taking away from you than you’re able to get back. Submitting time and time again that Netflix is part of your self-care routine is all fine and well, but if it’s affecting how you feel the next morning on a recurrent basis, putting you on the back foot each day, well, then, your relationship to Netflix needs to be analysed (blue light stimulation, although not ‘bad’ in and of itself, is mutually incompatible with good quality sleep (as is cocaine, high/moderate alcohol consumption, unchecked stress, and workaholism, to name but a few of life’s many temptations).

A further point of necessary elucidation: off the back of a poor night’s sleep, all people will tend to be more impulsive because the uncleared ‘trash’ from the previous day impinges itself on the clarity required to exercise sound judgment during the next. Any commitment to one’s self-care routine is therefore going to be, at baseline, compromised, unless a good night’s rest has been achieved. Any attempt thereafter to eat healthily, drink more water, be kinder to oneself (with words), say ‘No!’ when required, plan one’s day appropriately to meet one’s deadlines etc., – all these acts are going to be more challenging to realise without adequate sleep. That’s a fact.
So, sleep.

Bryn O’Reilly is a South African-born clinical psychologist living in the Central Algarve, Portugal. It is from there that he runs his private practice, offering both in-person and online services. Should you wish to contact Bryn, please click here