B is for Baths

Okay, so I had to take a bath today for reasons I won’t go into and I really, really hate baths. Hate them. I had to take a bath though, because I do like being clean and having clean hair. Plus there is a section in the employee handbook about being clean and presentable and that’s hard to do when you’ve not washed your hair for a week.

So I took a bath and washed my hair and just for the hell of it shaved too. not cause I needed to shave my legs – tattoo time isn’t for two weeks (I’m adding to the cartoon animals on my left leg) – I kinda like the feeling of smooth legs on the sheets though. It’s a personal thing, I do it basically for about ten minutes of nice feeling when I get into bed tonight. I shave under my arms because I tend to smell worse if I don’t and my deodorant doesn’t seem to work with hair. And I can only use that type of deodorant because my under arm skin is really sensitive.

I can only use one type of body wash too. It’s really annoying but it took a long time and a lot of painful spots to get to this point.

Anyway, this has little to do with my not liking baths and was probably more than you wanted or needed to know.

I don’t like baths.

I’m not sure what it is. I can’t seem to navigate them. I’ve had more baths in the past month than I’ve had in the past ten years, so it’s not really a surprise I’ve forgotten how they work. Were they always so slippy? Have I always been this ungraceful.? The answer is probably yes to both those questions because I don’t remember being particularly graceful as a child. Though my mum had a corner bathtub when I was little so that probably helped with the getting in and out.

Or not.

I don’t really remember. I remember taking baths with my sister and using a toy whisk to make bath water milkshakes with that were served in a plastic souvenir cup from a Disney-On-Ice show we’d seen at the Birmingham NEC on year. My mum had a friend who worked in the box office who could get us cheap tickets. I don’t remember anything about the actual show.

We used a bathtub like this too.

We never had a shower growing up, so baths were the norm until I moved out and then I didn’t have a bath, only a shower and then, then the depression kicked in and the whole personal hygiene thing really suffered because I was suffering and looking after myself really wasn’t high on my list of priorities.

I think it’s a left over from that in some ways, those years when just being awake was a struggle and having a bath – being that clean – just seemed so far out of reach that I still struggle with that idea. Even though I shower often and can spend a long time in the shower being clean.

On top of this I just don’t like sitting in the bath. I know it’s clean, cause I clean it. I have removed the cat litter and lego from it and made it shiny and white again, but I don’t like sitting in it. It’s an odd sensation and it makes me uncomfortable.

Which is odd cause I’ll happily sit most other places in the house naked. Just not the bath.

I think, if I could explain, it, properly, it wouldn’t be so much of a problem. That first bath I had a few weeks ago would not have been so horrible and following baths wouldn’t be that bad either. But they are because, well, I have issues. Showers I like, but I will admit that I still struggle to convince myself to get into the shower sometimes, even with the knowledge that afterwards I’ll be happy and clean. And happy with being clean.

I am clean though, and happy, my odd bouts of anxiety and depression are few and far between – I just don’t like baths.

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