The Importance of Taking Care of Yourself First
How an unexpected injury taught young me to take care of myself.
Hi there!
I grew up in rural Wisconsin. Our home sat on eight acres, a grassy island surrounded by cows and cornfields. The property had been a farm before my dad purchased it, but his joy came from fixing things, so he never pursued the family trade.
There were five outbuildings and a barn on the property, all fairly close to the house. Our parents gave us strict orders to stay out of all the buildings except one we could play in. Of course, that was the least interesting building.
What child always does what they’re supposed to do?
We traced the history of our house back to the early 1800s, the center of the house originally built as a logging barracks. Most of the buildings were nearly as old and neglected, so my parents had good reason to keep us out of them.
“Take care of your body. It’s the only place you have to live.”
- Jim Rohn
Scott Ninneman publishes two newsletters each week. The Sunday All Things Bipolar Newsletter features the newest content about bipolar life. The Speaking Bipolar Positivity Club Newsletter shares inspirational stories three times a week to help you maintain a positive mindset.
The barn was so unsafe, leaning at a 15-degree angle, that my dad pulled it down. The stone walls of the foundation and base of the silo remained standing, covered in broken beams and bits of roof and walls we never got around to cleaning up.
I knew better than to play there, but since there was no longer the danger of a building falling on my head, off to the barn I usually went to play.
I played on the stone walls of the barn for months without incident. It was the ship where I sailed as captain, the mountain I was first to conquer, and the barrier wall of my kingdom. Those adventures inspired the stories I would write later.
My universe was fun and exciting until the day my foot met a long rusty nail.
By the time I got my shoe off, my white tube sock was red. Tears fell down my face as I wondered if anyone from the house would hear me scream.
My two brothers and two sisters were all older than me, each with 5-9 years on me. I was a pest that seldom merited their attention. They were off with friends or caught up in their own mischief somewhere else on the property.
In that moment, with a salty wet face and a foot oozing warm liquid, I grew up a little. I had a problem, and I was the only one available to fix it. No one was coming to rescue me.
Half hobbling and half hopping, I made the epic trip to the house, where I cleaned and treated my wound.
In my mind, the nail was the size of a tent pin and pierced through my entire foot. In reality, it may have only been two-inches long, and the point only pierced my skin enough to make it bleed. But this is my story, so let’s make it a tent spike. My poor foot was skewered and never to be the same.
My encounter with the menacing nail taught me a valuable lesson. The lesson became even more clear years later when I received my bipolar diagnosis. Just as I was responsible for my injury, I was the person primarily responsible for my mental health. I had to take care of me.
The same is true for you.
Yes, you want to have a care team and a support system. Both are essential tools in your treatment plan, but in the end, it’s your wound. You are responsible for seeking treatment and caring for your illness.
There’s a lot about mental illness no one else knows. You can smile, laugh, and tell jokes, all while planning your death or an episode of self-harm. Only you see the internal wound in its raw glory. Only you see what’s hiding under that tube sock. So it’s up to you to take care of you.
I never told my family about my injury. Before long, I returned to rule my kingdom. No rusty nail was going to thwart me from my conquests, though it did make me a little more cautious where I stepped.
I threw my sock away and learned to walk without limping. If anyone noticed, they never told me. I imagine it was then I learned to hide my illness, another lesson that serves me even now.
My wound healed, and I gained confidence knowing that I could take care of myself. If I had me, I would always be okay.
The more you take care of yourself, the more confidence you’ll gain as well.
It’s your body and your mind. Take care of you.
Journal Prompt: When was the first time you learned to take care of yourself? What did that experience teach you?
Creative Writing Prompt: Take part of my story and write your own. Tell the tale of a child who sails as captain, climbs mountains, or rules a kingdom.
Until next time, keep fighting.
Scott Ninneman
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