‘Nobody tells you this!” For the first year of my now almost-three-year-old’s life, that was my catchphrase. I would say it nonstop. Nobody tells you that you will hallucinate from sleep deprivation in the first few months after having a baby. Nobody tells you how much time you will spend thinking about a baby’s bowel movements. Nobody tells you just how explosive those bowel movements can be.
Eventually, after much complaining, I came to the sheepish realisation that people do tell you this stuff. They tell you all the time. I just hadn’t been listening. Let’s be honest: when you’re not actively trying to procreate there is nothing more boring than hearing about the digestive issues or nocturnal routines of other people’s children.
One fun fact that people probably told me but I didn’t really take in at the time, is that being a parent (especially of a toddler who goes to nursery) means getting sick constantly. Kids are disgusting: they do things like lick the playground slide and put sticks they found on the street in their mouths. And then they hang out with a bunch of other feral children and cough all over each other. Then they cough over you. A study found that having a child makes you five times as likely to get a viral infection in the household as someone who is child-free.
All this to say: I’ve spent a lot of time being ill recently. My body – never exactly a temple – has turned into a crumbling ruin. So, on 1 January, along with several million other people, I decided to make some drastic changes and embarked on a Serious Wellness Regime. I stopped drinking and started taking a ton of supplements and probiotics (because gut health is very hot right now). Then I sat back and waited for my skin to glow, my energy levels to rocket, my good gut bacteria to proliferate and my immune system to develop an iron-clad defence system.
Almost three months later I am still waiting. Unfortunately, my wellness journey has had some setbacks. Taylor Swift is partly to blame for this. You see, a few years ago Swift mentioned to an interviewer that she swears by magnesium supplements. Magnesium immediately became highly desirable, spawning viral concoctions such as the “sleepy girl mocktail” and generating evangelists, including a friend of mine, who recently told me it had changed her life. Obviously, I started mainlining the stuff immediately. What I didn’t realise is that there are multiple types of magnesium and if you get the oxide form instead of the glycinate form, it is basically a laxative and will nuke your stomach. I won’t get into the gruesome details – I’ll just say that I have stopped taking magnesium now. Thank you very much for that, Taylor.
Look, I’m not a complete idiot. I know that supplements are not some sort of magic cure for all ills. Obviously I have been attempting to eat vegetables and exercise, too. Unfortunately, I have had to take an extended pause from the gym due to public mortification. Have you ever had an anxiety dream where you are naked in public and your clothes are nowhere to be found? I have had that dream so many times I accidentally manifested it into reality. (For some reason this never happens with my good dreams.) About a month ago I spent so long in the sauna – which is supposed to improve blood circulation and boost your immune system – that I got heatstroke and completely forgot where I’d put my clothes. Red as a lobster and clad only in a towel, I checked every locker before calling for help. Eventually, after a kerfuffle that involved every single member of staff coming into the locker room, my clothes were found. My dignity was not.
Among all my wellness failures, however, I will tell you the one change that has actually made a positive difference: dramatically reducing my alcohol intake. My sleep has become a million times better; my anxiety has improved. Irritatingly, it turns out that alcohol isn’t terribly good for you. Now, why does nobody ever tell you that?
• Arwa Mahdawi is a Guardian columnist
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