DIY Self-Care: Because I’m Broke but Anxious

So apparently I’m supposed to be “taking care of myself.”

Drink water. Stretch. Meditate. Journal. Put cucumbers on my eyelids like I’m a salad.

And don’t get me wrong — I want to be that person. The one who lights a candle, sinks into a bubble bath, and emerges glowing and renewed, like a soft-lit commercial for lavender. But in reality? Self-care feels less like relaxation and more like… homework. Homework that I don’t have the budget for.

Because here’s the thing: I’m unemployed. Which means all those “treat yourself” versions of self-care — facials, fancy yoga classes, that $40 face mask that claims it’ll solve both rosacea and my life problems — are not exactly happening. My current budget for wellness is whatever’s left after bills and minimal groceries.

So when Instagram says “book a massage, you deserve it,” I’m like, okay, but can I pay for that massage in leftover rice and veggies?

“Have you tried yoga?”
Yes. On YouTube. In my living room. With a towel instead of a yoga mat because mine ripped.

“Have you tried skincare?”
Yes. It’s called soap and moisturizer.

“Have you tried a gratitude journal?”
Yes. Page one: “Grateful I found five dollars in one of my old backpacks.”

And honestly? Even when I try to do the “cheap” self-care things, my brain is still screaming about job applications. Because job searching is basically a full-time stress hobby: writing cover letters that sound human, waiting weeks to hear back, and then rereading rejection emails like they’re breakup texts. It’s exhausting. Which makes the whole “just relax and do a face mask” thing feel kind of laughable when my idea of unwinding is not crying on LinkedIn.

Somewhere along the way, self-care stopped being about what actually makes me feel better (naps, watching trash TV, texting memes to my friends) and started being this weird checklist of things I’m supposed to be doing to prove I’m well-adjusted. Which kind of defeats the point, doesn’t it?

Like, I’m stressed about not relaxing enough. And broke while doing it. Do you hear how un-chill that is?

Here’s my radical take: maybe self-care doesn’t have to look like a Pinterest board or cost and arm and a leg. Maybe it’s just whatever small thing gives your brain a break — whether that’s painting your nails with the polish you’ve had since 2016, going for a walk, or eating cereal straight out of the box while scrolling YouTube.

So no, I might not be the type to thrive on Himalayan salt lamps and $80 serums. But if self-care means putting my phone on Do Not Disturb and hiding under a blanket for 20 minutes, then congratulations to me — I’m basically a wellness guru.

And old Ratatouille mug with English Breakfast Tea