Well, after a week of procrastinating and/or just not having the energy to do it or to care, I've finally managed to get in the tub and shave my legs.
I'm sure you all wanted to know this.
I never used to shave. I remember that when I was twelve my brother gave me an electric razor for Christmas and I was actually kind of offended--like, "Oh, now I'm grown up I'm supposed to do this thing that men don't have to do, not for my own benefit but for someone else's?" (I guess that's not really fair, as men "have to" shave their faces and if they chose to do it they have to keep it up pretty much every day. But that's the point really--that men are free, in the main, to shave or not to shave and women are expected to shave whether they want to or not.)
Anyway. I never used to shave--I think that razor lay in a drawer in my dresser the entire time I lived at home. I didn't feel particularly put out by the fact that I didn't shave, as none of my friends did, either--we weren't that kind of crowd. I mean, the "do girly things" kind of crowd, although I did wear makeup from my junior year in high school on until about 20 years ago and still do on special occasions (and enjoy it when I take the trouble).
But then a few years ago we were going to a week-long music festival in the summer. And I knew what people think of "the kind of women who don't shave." And while that doesn't bother me, really, I just didn't want to deal with it. So I took up shaving, and have ever since. And I find that since starting it's hard to stop--I feel cleaner when I shave and I have this idea that I smell better. I like the smoothness of my legs and armpits and looking down to see, not a bunch of coarse hair, but skin.
So that's the story of my shaving. Except, for the past year or so I have found any kind of personal hygiene related activity comes harder and harder to me. I used to shower at least every other day and bathe and shave twice a week at least. But with this depression, I find it hard to care. Hard to get motivated. I now shower once a week in a good week--only when my hair becomes too greasy to put up with any longer and needs to be washed. And as for bathing and shaving, well...let's just say I count it an heroic accomplishment to do it at all.
I wonder why this is. I know a lot of people with chronic physical and mental illnesses find bathing challenging. It just seems overwhelming. There are so many steps involved. And I often wonder what the point of it is. I never go out and no one ever sees me, so why should I bother? My psychiatrist would answer that I should make it a point to get out more and the problem would solve itself, but I wonder. Anyway, I can't see the point in getting out more, either. There is nothing in this little town that draws me anymore. Nothing I want to do and no one I want to see. All my social life takes place on the internet. So who cares if I have hairy legs?
Well, I do. And that's the one thing that keeps me doing it maybe every ten days. In the summer, maybe more often. I just wish I could do it once and be done with it for life, though. It would make things so much simpler.
So would a massive cash influx, but that's the subject of another blog altogether.