Under doctor’s orders, I’ve spent the past week trying to learn to meditate, via a helpful app known as Calm. When you open up the app, it gently assails you with nature sounds such as frogs croaking, birds chirping, and water flowing. This is supposed to make you feel relaxed, although it usually makes me have to go to the bathroom.

From there, you navigate through the options of various meditations — meditations for gratitude, for anxiety, for college. There are also simpler meditations, where you set a timer through the app and it plays nature sounds until you’re completely relaxed (or really need to pee). I have been practicing diligently for six days, nearly every morning.

I’m horrendous at it.

I’ve been told that I overthink things and that meditation is the antidote to this problem.

I’ve been told that I worry too much and that meditating to a looped track of hey-don’t-you-have-to-pee-now sounds every morning will bring me peace.

I’ve been told that I take things too seriously, and sitting or lying still while trying to focus on breathing and ignoring the call of nature will fix this character flaw.

I’ll admit it does help with the last one. It’s hard to take anything seriously, including yourself, when you feel like you might be in danger of wetting the bed for the first time since you were a toddler.

I’ve always thought of meditation as one of those fake cures, like wheatgrass or yoga or the Paleo diet — something that’s heavily evangelized and touted as the Next Big Thing that doesn’t actually work. But since my sole New Year’s Resolution is to prioritize my mental health, I took a leap, deleted Facebook off my phone, and replaced it with Calm, where a tranquil female voice tells me to wiggle my fingers and toes at the end of every 10-minute session.

Doctor’s orders were to meditate in the morning, before I start the day proper, before I even get out of bed. In theory, this is a good idea, as I begin the day by centering myself and becoming more mindful of my surroundings. In practice, the meditation often lulls me back to sleep, and I wake up to the nature sounds and the tranquil meditation guide congratulating me for completing the session I’ve just slept through. I feel vaguely like I’m disappointing her, which is not a good way to start the day.

Still, I’ve persisted with the meditation for six days so far, and I intend to keep going. I’m prioritizing my mental health. I’m retraining my brain. I’m practicing patience and bodyawareness and noted breathing, goddammit. I’m told it gets easier with practice, and I really do hope that’s true. Someday I’d like to look forward to these morning assignations with the nature sounds rather than treating them as a bonus nap after the alarm goes off.

For those of you committed to other resolutions, I hope you’re finding success. For those of you in the meditation trenches, good luck. Keep going.

And for God’s sake, hold it.