Opening Post

Who Cares?

I was talking to my dad the other day (I talk to him every day, now that my mom is gone) and we were talking about laundry.

He said he takes the laundry out of the dryer right away, but he doesn’t fold it or put it away. I said, “Doesn’t that make all your clothes wrinkled then?”

He said, “Yeah, but it’s just underwear and towels and stuff.”

I asked about his shirts and pants, and he said, “Yeah, well that too.”

I said, “Does that mean you go out wearing wrinkled shirts and pants?”

And he said, “Yeah, but who cares?”

The thing is, maybe no one cares. Maybe they don’t, ya know? But maybe they do. Maybe they notice. I would. And I would think it odd.

I would think, “This person doesn’t take care of themselves or think about how they look.”

And that’s my concern about my dad. That he’s stopped caring about taking care of himself and how he looks.

I mean, it’s not like you need to really be worried all the time about what people think of you, but you should take some pride in your appearance. And you definitely need to take care of yourself.

Especially those of us who have bipolar disorder. It’s part of managing the disorder, really.

Grooming may seem like such a small thing, but taken with everything else, it is important. You need to take care of yourself.

It should be part of your routine. Like for me, there are certain things I do every day as part of my routine in taking care of my bipolar disorder and myself in general.

Every day I make my bed, no matter what. And I always get dressed, even if I’m not going anywhere. And I brush my teeth twice a day, because that’s just a good habit to have. And I take a shower and groom myself.

And for me, I have to have my morning cup of coffee. Just one cup, but it’s important to me, to my routine. It gives me a good start to my day.

Being well-groomed is important to me, because I like that, at least on the outside, people can’t tell that I have bipolar disorder.

There is nothing that sets me apart, makes me look any different than anyone else.

That, unlike my dad who wears wrinkled clothes, makes me NOT say, “Who cares?”

Who cares? I DO!

Wishing you joy and stability,

Remember God loves you and so do I,
Michele

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