Letting People Help Me
I am letting the people who love me carry some of this with me. Asking for help is one of the ways I survive.
You have been quietly insisting, for far longer than you should have, that you are fine. You were never meant to do this alone. And yet, in crisis, the old voice that says don't bother anyone, don't be a burden, don't seem weak gets very loud. That voice is the long teaching of a lifetime, and the long teaching of what you have lived through. It is not the truth.
The truth is: you have people in your life who would be glad to help, if you would let them. And help in crisis is not abstract emotional support. Often it is small, concrete, practical — the kind of help that fits in an hour or an afternoon.
Help might look like:
- A friend who watches your children for two hours while you rest
- Someone who drops off a meal you do not have the energy to make
- A trusted person who sits with you while you open the mail you have been dreading
- Someone who reads through a piece of paper with you that you cannot face alone
- Someone who simply sits with you, on a hard evening, in silence
Help might also be emotional. Saying, I am having a hard day. Can we talk for twenty minutes? Saying, I do not need you to fix anything. I just need someone to be here. Saying, I am scared. I do not know what to do. All of these are allowed.
Be specific when you ask. Can you help me? is a hard question to answer. Can you come over Saturday at two? is a question someone can say yes to.
When help is offered, let yourself say yes. Even when it feels uncomfortable. Even when the old voice whispers about being a burden. The people who love you want to be useful. Letting them is a kindness to both of you.
Not everyone you ask will be able to show up. That is information about who can carry what — not a verdict on your worth. You learn to ask. You learn to notice who comes. You are learning the steady knowledge of who can be trusted to carry weight with you.