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My Hair Hurts. So No, I’m Not Doing a 12-Step Skincare Routine.

Its been a while whats been up guys? I’ll go. Nothing lol. Theres been pain nad appointments interspersed with some family fun, birthdays and its just so damn hot in the summer I dont do much, but it hasnt been all bad. I think I decided that I’m going to drop down to the free version of wordpress so I’m sorry if that messes with anyone’s formats or fonts. I’m just streamlining everything I can before the new school year. We are a month out for most schools going back. I’ll be around more once I get a routine.

So theres me, drop me a note let me know what this summer kept you busy doing. Now…

If you’ve never lived with chronic pain, “my hair hurts” probably sounds ridiculous.

But if you know…you know.

It’s not really the hair itself. It’s that strange feeling where your scalp is tender, your skin feels overstimulated, your clothes suddenly feel heavier, and every little sensation seems amplified. Even washing your face can feel like one task too many.

Welcome to another day of living in a body that likes to make up its own rules.

I Didn’t Always Need a Streamlined Routine

There was a time when I wore makeup almost every day.

I washed my face with Noxzema every morning and every night without thinking about it. Skincare was just part of my routine.

Then fibromyalgia, fatigue, and life happened.

What used to be automatic became another task that required energy I didn’t always have. I didn’t stop caring about my skin—I just had to stop pretending I had the same energy I used to.

The Myth of the Perfect Routine

Everywhere you look, someone is telling you that you need a dozen products and a complicated routine to have healthy skin.

Meanwhile, I’m over here negotiating with myself to wash my face before bed.

There are days when lifting my arms to shampoo my hair feels exhausting. There are days when standing at the bathroom sink for five minutes is enough.

So no, I’m not doing a twelve-step skincare routine.

My Real-Life Routine

Most days, I wash my face with a gentle cleanser in the morning and before bed, then apply my Olay moisturizer.

That’s it.

Not because I don’t care, but because I’ve learned the best routine is the one I can actually stick with.

There are still days when even washing my face doesn’t happen, and I’ve stopped feeling guilty about that. Chronic illness doesn’t care about my to-do list, and guilt has never made me feel better.

My Bare-Minimum Routine

On high-pain days, I ask myself one question:

What’s the smallest thing I can do that will still help?

Usually that’s:

  • Wash my face with a gentle cleanser—or even just rinse with water.
  • Apply moisturizer.
  • Wear sunscreen if I’m going outside.

Simple. Realistic. Sustainable.

Your Routine Should Serve You

People with chronic illnesses hear a lot of advice about what we “should” be doing.

Some days, just making it through the day is an accomplishment.

I’ve learned that consistency beats complexity every time. My skin doesn’t need twelve products. It needs a routine that works with the body I have today.

If today all you managed was washing your face and putting on some moisturizer, that’s a win.

If today all you managed was splashing your face with water because that’s all your body would allow, that’s okay too.

Self-care isn’t measured by how many bottles are on your bathroom counter.

It’s measured by finding a routine that’s sustainable—even on the days when your hair hurts. Til next time guys, take care of yourselves, and each other and look for more George updates, they are all over the yard lol.

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Your Body Thinks You’re Being Chased by a Bear (Spoiler: You’re Not)

So here’s a fun thing that’s been happening: my body has apparently decided that normal life is a constant threat and has responded by keeping me in a perpetual state of “OH GOD OH GOD WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE” even though I’m literally just sitting at my desk trying to answer emails.

Welcome to chronic sympathetic nervous system activation, or as I like to call it, “why I can’t relax even when I’ve been scheduling rest and also why am I clenching my jaw right now?”

If you’re reading this and thinking “wait, is that why my shoulders are permanently attached to my ears?” – yeah, probably. Let’s talk about it.

What Fresh Hell Is This?

Your nervous system has two settings: “EVERYTHING IS FINE” (parasympathetic) and “NOTHING IS FINE PREPARE FOR BATTLE” (sympathetic). The sympathetic system is supposed to kick in when you’re actually in danger – like if a bear shows up or you’re about to miss a deadline or someone says “we need to talk.”

It’s supposed to turn on, help you deal with the thing, then turn OFF.

Except sometimes it just… doesn’t turn off. It’s like that friend who came over for dinner three months ago and is still on your couch. Your nervous system has overstayed its welcome in fight-or-flight mode, and now you’re stuck with elevated heart rate, tense muscles, and the general vibe of someone who’s been drinking espresso for 72 hours straight even though you haven’t.

The Fancy Medical Terms (In Case You Want to Sound Smart)

Doctors and wellness people might call this:

  • Sympathetic dominance (sounds like a kink, isn’t)
  • Hyperarousal (also sounds like a kink, still isn’t)
  • Autonomic dysregulation (absolutely does not sound like a kink)
  • Chronic stress response (boring but accurate)
  • Low vagal tone (your vagus nerve has given up)
  • High allostatic load (fancy way of saying “you’re worn the hell out”)

Pick your favorite. I personally enjoy “sympathetic dominance” because it makes it sound like my nervous system is being bossy, which honestly tracks.

What This Nightmare Actually Looks Like

Physical symptoms (aka your body’s way of saying “I hate it here”):

  • Heart doing gymnastics for no reason
  • Muscles so tight you could bounce a quarter off them
  • Digestive system on strike (nausea, IBS, the works)
  • Sleep? Don’t know her
  • Exhausted but also weirdly wired (tired and wired, the worst combo)
  • Headaches that won’t quit
  • Getting every cold that walks by
  • Hands shaking like you’ve had six cups of coffee (you’ve had zero)

Mental/emotional symptoms (aka your brain being a jerk):

  • On edge like you’re waiting for bad news that never comes
  • Brain fog thicker than London on a bad day
  • Irritable about literally everything (yes, even that)
  • Cannot. Sit. Still.
  • Hypervigilance (constantly scanning for threats like a meerkat)
  • Feeling nothing and everything at the same time
  • Anxiety that laughs at your attempts to meditate

Why Your Body Has Betrayed You Like This

Short answer: sustained stress that your nervous system couldn’t process properly.

Long answer: Maybe it was work stress, or caregiving, or financial pressure, or relationship drama, or past trauma, or chronic illness, or just living through the general dumpster fire that is modern existence. Your nervous system was like “okay, we need to be alert right now” and then just never got the memo that the crisis ended.

It’s not your fault. Your nervous system was trying to protect you. It’s just really bad at knowing when to clock out.

How to Convince Your Body That the Bear Has Left

Alright, here’s the part where I actually try to be helpful instead of just complaining (revolutionary, I know).

Vagus Nerve Stimulation (or: Push the “Calm Down” Button)

Your vagus nerve is basically the brake pedal for your sympathetic system. Here’s how to use it:

  • Breathe like you mean it – Longer exhales than inhales. Your body can’t panic and breathe slowly at the same time, so you’re basically hacking the system
  • Cold water to the face – Splash it, shower in it, or just hold ice. Your body goes “oh we’re doing survival mode differently now”
  • Hum, sing, or gargle – Yes, really. Yes, you’ll look weird. Do it anyway
  • Gentle yoga – Not the “let’s pretzel ourselves into oblivion” kind, the “we’re just stretching and breathing” kind

Daily “Please Chill” Practices

  • Sleep schedule – I know, I know. But your nervous system needs the routine like a toddler needs naptime
  • Move your body – But maybe don’t go run a marathon if you’re already exhausted? Shocking concept, I know
  • Go outside – Nature is basically free therapy and your nervous system knows it
  • Reduce caffeine – I’m sorry. I know. But coffee might be part of the problem
  • Eat actual food – Omega-3s, magnesium, B vitamins. Your nervous system needs fuel that isn’t anxiety and spite

The Woo-Woo Stuff (That Actually Works, Dammit)

  • Progressive muscle relaxation – Tense and release muscle groups. It’s boring but effective
  • Meditation – Even 5 minutes. No, you don’t have to empty your mind. That’s not how it works
  • Somatic practices – Basically any movement that helps you actually feel your body instead of just inhabiting it like a haunted house
  • Heart rate variability training – Apps exist for this and they’re legitimately helpful
  • Massage/bodywork – Yes, you deserve it. No, it’s not frivolous

The Practical Stuff Nobody Wants to Hear

  • Set boundaries – Saying no is self-care, actually
  • Reduce stressors – I know this is easier said than done, but where you can, do
  • Get professional help – Therapy is great. Medication is sometimes necessary. Both are fine
  • Actually rest – Not “scroll on your phone” rest. Actual, doing-nothing rest
  • Connect with humans – Safe relationships help regulate your nervous system (unfortunately we do need other people)

Real Talk

This doesn’t get fixed overnight. Your nervous system didn’t get stuck in panic mode in a day, and it won’t unstick in a day either. Some days you’ll feel better. Some days you’ll feel like garbage. Both are normal.

You’re not broken. You’re not weak. You’re having a completely normal response to stress that lasted too long. Your nervous system is just trying to keep you safe – it’s just really, really bad at its job right now.

Also, if this is seriously impacting your life, please talk to actual medical professionals. I’m just some person on the internet who’s been through this. Doctors and therapists have actual training and sometimes you need the real help.

The Point

You deserve to feel safe in your own body. You deserve to not feel like you’re perpetually being chased by something you can’t see. You deserve to actually rest without your nervous system screaming “BUT WHAT IF—” at you.

Start small. Pick one thing. Give it time. Be patient with yourself (I know, gross). And know that it does get better.

Your nervous system will eventually get the memo that the bear is gone. It’s just taking the long way around. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves, and each other.