Lifestyle, pet, travel and teaching blog

Sunday, 20 September 2015

How Your Clothes Reflect Your Mood

This week, I had no idea I wasn't feeling great until I looked at my washing.

That sounds bizarre, but life these days is so go-go-go and how often do we really sit down and reflect upon ourselves? I know I don't very often - usually when I'm sitting still, I'm asleep - and it's even harder now that I've started my course at Oxford. Studying plus lectures plus travelling plus taking care of Ayra and seeing Tom and doing housework and then suddenly it's bedtime and the cycle just repeats. I thought I was doing fine! I was coping! Head just above water, but still above!

But then this weekend I did my clothes washing. Normal, every day activity to get through my stinky dog walking scruffs and college-and-school acceptable work clothes, some pjs and pants thrown into the mix.

Ayra was being her usual charming self and stealing clothes pegs from the tub and I was trying to avoid stepping in her poop barefoot as I ran after to her to stop her - oh the joys! So it was only when I'd wrestled those off of her and chased her back that I actually stopped and looked at the washing line.

And every single thing was black.

I exaggerate - there were shades of navy, some grey (probably once black but now faded), but mostly - black.

No yellows, no pinks, no greens or reds or oranges. Just boring, fade-into-the-background black.

And that's when I realised that subconsciously, even though on the surface I'd been keeping on keeping on, my subconscious, much more self-aware self, had been screaming at me that I was not a-ok, and that a little storm cloud had been brewing. I was trying to hide and fade away and not be noticed through my clothing, which was in turn something I had not even noticed I was doing myself! Everything was baggy or ill-shapen and nothing was at all flattering - just all things that were intended to disguise, to not be noticed - and all signs to myself that I was not a-ok. I may not be the bravest of souls but these were choices I was making daily that said something,  ever so loudly with it's don't-notice-me-black, about my mental health, my well-being, my confidence.

I realised that maybe instead of just keeping my head above water I needed to stop, re-evaluate, re-jig my schedule and maybe take an hour for myself. Prioritize. Self-evaulate. Sort it out.

This afternoon I have spent the entirety of it sleeping whilst Tom has Ayra and it has been glorious.

I feel fresher.

I do not feel like wearing black.

Sometimes it is our appearances, how we present ourselves, that can really tell us something about ourselves and how we're feeling - more than we ever even expected or intended to.

Also, subconscious me turns out to be a pretty smart, switched on gal - much more than on-the-surface me. Who knew?

Next week, I'm going to wear COLOUR!


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